So, I'm standing at the edge of a precipice, ready to fling myself off. And why? Because yesterday I got this really sweet email from the guy that I tried to buy the ticket off of, saying he was sorry about how it didn't work out, and how the show was great, and how he and his wife went to the after-party and hung out with the guys from Union Station and Elvis Costello and everyone and how it was really fun.

I answered, 'O, you're breaking my heart! Because I have a huge crush on Barry Bales, that tall bass player with Union Station and Dan Tyminski's band! Not to mention Elvis Costello, of course, my cat is named after him.

Actually, I think that the thing I want the most is to see Ralph Stanley live before he dies. I'm glad you had a good time, though I wish I could have been there, too.'

He answered back that he had talked to Ralph Stanley at the party and Dan Tyminski and the Coens and Ron Block and everyone was really nice, and that Barry Bales was great. Great! My Barry Bales was great! And I could have found out for myself, but, as I said:

'It is probably best that I don't meet Barry, because I would just embarrass myself by having this conversation:

"Hi, I'm Barry."
"Hi, I'm Kymm. Will you marry me?"
"Well, we only just met..."
"Please? C'mon, be a sport, I love you enough for both of us!"
"Um, Security? Can you please escort this insane woman away?" '

And that's why I'm throwing myself into the abyss. Abyss, I say! Because, although I certainly am happy that I didn't make an ass of myself in front of him (not to mention the fact that I can just hear myself saying to Elvis Costello, the words "My cat is named after you! He is very bad indeed!"), it's not as though my life is filled with chances to meet cute bluegrass bassists.

But I did have a chance to see him in a film, instead, so I took it.

Down From the Mountain is the concert film of the Nashville O Brother Where Art Thou concert last year, and it opened last night with a Q&A by the filmmakers afterwards. It is a really swell film, and if you like bluegrass at all, I really recommend it. The first third was all rehearsals and backstage stuff, and the rest was the concert itself.

There weren't enough shots of Barry, (who should definitely change his name to Barry "Just Out of Camera Range" Bales, or possibly Barry "Standing Behind the Mandolin Player" Bales), but there really couldn't be enough for my tastes, but besides that, it was terrific. Seeing him with that big stand up bass, though, really made me understand why, playing an electric bass at the concert in Somerville, he did so much wandering all over the stage, as you really can't do that with an acoustic! And an electric bass is much sexier, because it's all about the dick, whereas the standup is about the arms. Not as good.

And the very recently late John Hartford was all over the film, being the master of ceremonies, and it was an incredible tribute to him, though of course they couldn't have known that he would die before it opened, even though he was sick when they made it. I knew who he was, of course, but I just really fell for him over the course of the film, he just glows, and all I could think was, "He died a week and a half ago and I'm only discovering him now? What have I been doing with my time?"

The other performers were great, too--Emmylou Harris is absolutely a stitch, Gillian Welch, the Whites, the Cox Family, Ralph Stanley, the Fairfield Four (which seems to have five members, but I'm not questioning it), the whole thing made you just wish that you could hang out with them all. And it seems that in order to be a great bluegrass or roots country performer, you need to be just a little bit odd, everybody seems to be quirky as hell, but not as an act for the camera, really for real.

But I guess that makes sense, bluegrass is a music that is determined to be itself, it has a very strong personality, and in order to perform it well, the last thing you can be is bland. This may be why I identify with the music so very strongly. Either that or I just like peppy, banjo-fueled songs about death.

After the screening, Ethan Cohen and Frasier Pennebaker and, um, some guy named Bob who was one of the filmmakers, but I don't know what his name is, answered questions about the film, some of which were remarkably idiotic. My favourites were, "The actors in O Brother lip-synched so well, was it hard for them to do that?" and, "Why wasn't Leon Redbone in the concert, he was on the album!" (she was thinking of T-Bone Burnett) and, "Where were the Soggy Bottom Boys? Aren't they a real band?" to which I said, "Well, they're Union Station," and then Ethan repeated, "They are basically Union Station."

One good question, and one I was wondering about, was why "Man of Constant Sorrow" wasn't in the movie, and the answer was that Dan screwed up on the lyrics so egregiously that they couldn't use the footage. Poor Dan!

Anyway, great film, see it when it comes near you, and there will be a whole bunch more songs on the DVD! Can't wait! Even with the appalling lack of closeups of Barry Bales.

By the way, happy Bloomsday!

Today's horoscope:
You could get carried away today trying to squeeze the last ounce out of your activities. Be reasonable and know when to quit.

One year ago today:
I'm Typhoon Aerofreak, pleased to meet you, and washing his belly over there is my cat Opulence Hotbooty.

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Last Updated Sun 17 June 01:25:09 2001