We're mooching off our friends, Beth Henson & Noel Ignatiev (and son, John Henry). I have friends who went to college around Boston (let's not talk SAT scores here, but I went to school in Maryland, and then Arizona). They, those living out in our neck of the non-woods, pine for time "back East" like the socialite wives of 19th Century mining moguls. (That might explain why even in the dumpiest Arizona town, a pile of shacks in the middle of a million acres of kitty litter, that they'd have one hell of an "opry house.") Well, anyway, we're getting back to the east, and getting paid for it. Only this time, we get to bring the culture (if you use a very broad definition). The great part for me is that I've always missed summer (we have it from November through March) since moving to Arizona, and now I get a paid summer vacation. (Traveling in the van with The Mollys is like going to summer camp or on vacation with a family - a very dysfunctional, warped family).
So, he we are, in Boston (Cambridge, actually; OK, Somerville, if you want to get technical), more than halfway through our second East Coast swing in a month. (There was this unfortunate period of discontinuity in desire for The Mollys somewhere between). But, that's OK, because they know how to have fun back here when the gray snow melts. (A damper has been thrown on this idealistic view of the warm months by one of our hosts, Beth, who says, "We have this thing called black fly season.")
We started out in Philadelphia at Sam Adam's Brewery. Uh, ... was it something we said last time? Maybe we weren't as fresh as we should have been after being crammed in The Beast for a couple thousand miles. Whatever the case, there was a very small group there. To put it mildly, if Kevin's family weren't there, it would have been just us, the staff and six of our dearest fans. We didn't suck, honest. (But if you don't suck in the woods, do you really not suck?)
Full of self-doubt and loathing (well, maybe it was just a hangover), we returned to Kevin's parents' home on the other side of the river over in New Jersey, and ate them out of house and home. Next morning, we headed north for a radio appearance (can you really "appear" on radio?) in West Hartford, CT, at WWUH-FM on Dwight Thurston's show. We got backed up in the traffic - one of those three-lane parking lots that appear and then dissolve for no apprent reason - and just breezed in 15 minutes before Dwight went off the air. So, Kevin, Nancy and Catherine rushed in and did a few songs as an acoustic trio, and then we staggered out of there and headed a few miles out of town to Gemini's in Simsbury, CT. It didn't look good; the first thing I saw when we loaded in was the poster for the band set to play the following night: "Love Gun!" Out from the poster stared four humans shellacked up in Kiss makeup. A tribute band paying tribute to Kiss. Maybe this wouldn't be such a good thing. But, we had a decent-sized, and wild, crowd. And a bunch of friends (including more of Kevin's relatives - thankfully, they're everywhere) were there. This being away from home isn't so bad when you get to see friends. Our friends, and former Tucsonans, Claire & Dave Boggs were there. They came down from Northhampton, MA, and we followed them home to mooch a night's lodging, a great breakfast and a lot of catching up.
Next, it was the legendary Towne Crier in Pawling, NY. Like the Bottom Line and Godfrey Daniel's, the Towne Crier is one of those places where the signed posters on the wall in the green room are enough to scare the hell out of you. Pretty much every folky and blueser has played there (except that Dylan guy).
There was a change in the appearance, of which we weren't aware, and we wound up on a double bill as the opener. Hmmm. Always a good deal for us, in that being the underdog is a no-lose proposition. We were told the other band, The Boneheads, from Maine, had a strong local following. The only problem could have been from fans of ours who showed up late thinking we were playing the second half. Our apologies to anyone, if that happened. We didn't know, honest.
But, other than that, it was a great night. Just hearing them mess around during sound check I knew this was going to be a hot show, and that we were going to have to be in top form to hang with these guys. I hate sports analogies, but any time you put two bands on the same ticket, you get a contest. The bands might as well admit it, because the audience is going to compare their performances anyway. We had a fine set, as some of the material from the new album began to grow and change a bit. With a great sounding room and sharp sound engineer (Jim), it was easy to stretch out. The crowd gave us a hot reception, a loud encore, and then we got to hear some great music.
The Boneheads are one of the best bands I've ever heard, period. But making it even more enjoyable was the fact that I'd never heard of them. Everyone in the band was at the top end of the journeyman skill level - aces on their instruments. The four guys who were doing the vocals all had distinctive voices with a lot of character, really reminding me of The Band. The drummer didn't sing, but I've heard he can. Nothing about these guys would surprise me; they all move from one instrument to the next with skill. Often, bands with such a concentration of instrumental chops lack songwriting skills, but The Boneheads had some great songs, too. I got a copy of their most recent album, "Words & Things & Numbers & Stuff." Fine album. Musicians usually hate being compared to other bands, but for the sake of description, these guys remind me more of the Subdudes than anyone, but they've also share strong common characteristics with Little Feat and The Band (three of my Top 20 bands). The hottest band I've run across since we played with The Gourds last year in Philadelphia. If you think this sounds like your kind of music, and you get a chance to hear them, do. I don't think you'll be disappointed. (207-878-2330 for information) (e-mail - skylineml@maine.com) (www.Biddeford.com/~Bonehead)
We had a short drive to Fairfield, CT, the next morning to do the Fairfield County Celtic Festival. Fairfield is in that string of pricey Connecticut towns where a lot of people who work in "the city" live. We've played their private celtic club a couple times and always enjoyed it. The festival was held in a park behind a school with several circus-sized tents, some for arts and crafts, food and music. We were on the mainstage in the big tent. Big crowd. Big sound system. Big stage. Big fun. Big pile of empty Murphy's pint cups. And, our old buddy, John Whelan was there. At one point, I looked over at Gary who was gesturing wildly toward the table next to the stage where our CDs were on sale. There were a bunch of people rummaging through our suitcase full of CDs and tapes, and we weren't there. It looked like a looting at a yard sale riot. But then, I saw someone with a fistful of bills. It was Johnny, working the CD table for us. We owe him. Then we dragged him up on stage and we did a burn-down-the-stage version of "Hat Trick" with Kevin and Johnny dueling on the accordion breaks. John's band, "The Kips Bay Band," just broke up, and he's about two years into a solo career. He's a repeat former Irish accordion champion (it's kind of a sport over there), an amazing musician. So, we got to hang with John and had a good time. His new album, "Flirting With the Edge," features some guests, including one of our Canadian friends, Oscar Lopez. Oscar's album, "Heat," also on Narada, could bring back the dead. I'm at a loss to describe the emotional power in his guitar playing. Oscar's a master. I was ready to go burn my guitar after hearing him the first time. Listening to his album a couple days ago, I remebered why. Sorry about the name dropping, but these are musicians you should hear. Players that we can vouch for as world class musicians. They're both on Narada; don't be put off by the New Age associations, this stuff rocks or soars emotionally without any schlock and no farting soprano sax or cosmic crap. John's "Flirting" is, to my mind, a great album. It's one of those recordings you're proud to turn a friend onto.
Monday we drove north to Boston to play Club Passim. It's right on Harvard Square, a small room with a big folk world reputation. School's out, so we didn't have our usual sell-out house, but we had one of the best nights of playing we've ever had - some great moments. Club Passim is a great place to hear music, with perfect sight lines from every seat and enough acoustic hardness to the room that we can play with just a little help from the PA system. Our favorite sound engineer, Doug "Golden Ears" Brunnelle, showed up and did something he said he's wanted to do for a long time - listen to someone else work the board while we played. He looked happy, so I guess the sound was good. It was a memorable night.
We're staying with our friends, Beth and Noel, (Noel's an award winning author - "How the Irish Became White" and editor of Race Traitor - and Beth is a former Bisbee (AZ) resident, so we go way back. They spoiled us with a big feast tonight, our first night off on this tour. We've got a couple of days to kill before we play the Chicago Country Music Festival in Grant Park on Friday. More about that later.... Tomorrow I'm going to wander around in Boston. Soak up some culture. Maybe go over to Car Talk Plaza and meet Tom & Ray.
If you haven't heard us and want to get an idea what The Mollys are all about (and help keep this thing going), the best things you can do are:
Thanks,
dan sorenson - and the rest of those rascally Mollys