So last night was the show I have been waiting for for seven months, the "Down From the Mountain" concert.

I missed it in June at Carnegie Hall, but now they are touring, and the New York date was at Radio City. They were selling tickets last October or something, and I got them the first day they were available, spending almost $100 for a tenth row centre seat. I mean, why spend $50 for a seat up by the ceiling when you can spend $95 and be able to count Barry Bales' nose hairs? I ask you.

Of course, I ordered them online and I never look at my mail, so I never had noticed whether my $95 ticket had arrived or not, and only on Sunday did I start looking for it. Luckily, most of my un-looked-at mail was in one spot, and I was able to find it fairly quickly. Don't know what I would have done if I hadn't found it.

That not looking at mail thing, it really is a very bad habit, but hey, it always works out.

The queue to get it was all twisting and turning, it was like getting into a ride at Disneyland, because they had to check everyone's bags. I was afraid that I wouldn't get in in time, or that I wouldn't get to go to the bathroom, but I guess they held the show for us. Or maybe it was because it was a concert and they never start on time.

Bob Neuwirth, a musician and the producer of the Down From the Mountain movie, was the emcee in place of John Hartford, who of course is no longer living. He was pretty great, too, very homey and easygoing.

The first act was the glorious Fairfield Four, and someday someone will tell me why there are five of them, singing "Po' Lazarus" and trying to start the audience clapping along, but we are New Yorkers and don't so much do that. After them was Norman Blake, singing "Big Rock Candy Mountain", of which he forgot the lyrics at one point, which is why he was cut out of the movie version, so one would think he would have them down by now. He was joined afterwards by his wife, Nancy on the mando, duetting on "You Are My Sunshine", which he didn't forget at all.

Then was Alison Krauss and Union Station! Barry! Barry! Barry? Barry has grown a remarkably unbecoming moustache and goatee, which was certainly a mistake. Perhaps he was tired of being tackled by women all hither and thither and being unable to even grocery shop without having them dive into his cart, so he was trying to make himself look as unattractive as possible. Worked for me.

The funny thing was that they were introduced as Alison Alison Alison, the wonderful Alison with the beautiful voice, and a bunch of other guys, and then they got on and Dan did the singing! Then I remembered hearing that she had been sick, and after the first song, a bluegrass rave-up of some sort, Dan confirmed that she would not be singing that evening, which was certainly disappointing. But she could still play the fiddle, and they played "Kern County Breakdown", which is a mad fiddle breakdown that was almost better than hearing her sing. She actually shredded her bow. Amusingly, Ron still tunes with a machine between every song. Very sort of sweetly obsessive-compulsive.

Then they all but Dan and Alison left the stage, and Alison, in a hoarse voice, presented Dan as the guy that made George Clooney look good, and she left and Stuart Duncan and Pat Enright came on and they did "Man of Constant Sorrow," which was really cool, because those two guys sang the backup originally on the record, so they are the real Soggy Bottom Boys.

Then was the wonderful Emmylou Harris, with Buddy and Judy Miller, who sang "The Other Side of Life" and "Red Dirt Girl", one of the saddest songs ever written. She also introduced Judy Collins in the audience, who stood up and waved. Chris Thomas King came out next, in a huge afro, and sang Hard Time Killing Floor Blues" and then the fabulous "John Law Burned Down the Liquor Store." It was very peculiar to see him with that enormous hair, looking like Shaft, singing those very old-fashioned songs.

Then Emmylou came back, with Patty Loveless and Judy Miller to sing "Nobody But the Baby." Where was Gillian Welch? I mean, Judy Miller was singing for Alison, but what was this Patty Loveless shit? I was very sorry about that, I love Gillian Welch, though the song sounded fantastic.

Bob Neuwirth introduced the next act by saying that he hoped that they hadn't gotten into the liquor again, and the Peasall Sisters came out. That big one really is getting awfully tall, she looked around 30. The sang "In the Highway," which they much be getting heartily sick of, not that you could tell. Someday they'll be old ladies, tottering out on the stage, still croaking it out, loathing every note. They followed it with "I'll Fly Away," with the big one singing lead, and she sounded really really good, really distinctive. She has a career ahead of her as a solo singer, if she wants it. When they left the stage, Bob said, "See? Drunk as snakes!"

Then was an interval, then Jerry Douglas came out and kicked some major dobro butt, then brought back Union Station who sang...another song. They keep doing songs without choruses, so you can't figure out their titles. Then was a banjo driven instrumental, and I really didn't get that title, unless it was "Plinkety Plinkety Tweedle-Deedle Plunk," which is unlikely.

After that, the Nashville Bluegrass Band came out, which included Stuart Duncan and Pat Enright, who were fantastic. Duncan sure can play the fiddle like a motherfucker. They played "Gambling Barroom Blues" and "Sittin' on Top of the World," which contained the first bass solo ever to appear in bluegrass music, I practically fell out of my chair. After "Honey Baby Mine," Time Blake Nelson came out to sing "In the Jailhouse Now" with them, which just brought the house down. He also introduced Joel and Ethan and T-Bone, and everyone about broke their necks looking for them, but unlike Judy Collins, they did not stand and wave.

Then they were joined by Nancy and Norman Blake and they all did "I Am Weary" in place of the absent Cox Family, which was kinda droney. Not a patch on The Cox Family, really. The only not fabulous part of the evening, by me, though that Stuart Duncan was singing again, which I really liked. Hey, Barry was barely on the stage, and he had that horrible patchy facial hair, I had to have someone to mildly obsess over!

The Whites were next--I fucking love The Whites. They have such a strong, casual, happy stage presence, it's a joy to watch them. They sang "Making Believe" and "Keep on the Sunny Side". They were followed by Patty "What the Hell is She Doing Here, She Wasn't In the Movie" Loveless, whom the guys behind me had a real hard-on for. You could tell, 'cause they kept bawling out "Patty!" at regular intervals, always a sign of Troo Troo Luv. She sang "Pretty Little Miss" and "You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive," and I understood why she was there. Though I would have preferred Gillian Welch.

The the Fairfield Four came back and sang "Lonesome Valley," which was incredible. It was like an ocean, washing over the audience, I was floating away. They sang another song, that I think was called "Lord Have Mercy on Me," and they got that audience to clap along, by golly. Had to happen sooner or later, no-one can resist forever.

Then Ralph Stanley came onstage, and he is the only one of these bluegrass stars who acted like a star, and I don't mean like an asshole, but like he wasn't just some guy who wandered up on the stage. Bluegrass musicians aren't in it for the money or the fame, because until O Brother, there really wasn't any, they are in it because they love the music and are compelled to play, they are in it for the joy, and the fact that people want to come hear them seems like just a plus. Well, Ralph Stanley knows that people want to come see him, Ralph Stanley isn't even pretending that he just happened to be there and we happened to be there, so let's put on a show. Ralph Stanley is bluegrass music, especially since his brother Carter and Bill Monroe are gone, and he knows it, and there's nothing wrong with that.

He sang "O Death," and it was incredibly powerful, it gave me chills. Of course, he's been singing it for centuries, but I think it's better now than when he was younger. There is something profoundly moving about this little, small seventy-five-year-old man, standing sturdily alone in the middle of a huge dark stage, singing "O Death, won't you spare me over to another year?"

He was joined onstage by the Nashville Bluegrass Band and did "The Girl From the Greenbriar Shore," then Patty Loveless came back and they sang "Man of Constant Sorrow." They pretended it was the end, but of course it wasn't, and the whole cast came back and did "Angel Band" and then "Amazing Grace" as a surprise sing-along. It was glorious. I just floated out into the lobby, where I bought a long-sleeved tour shirt that was in thick black and white stripes like a prison uniform. I'm pretty sure that won't be slimming, but I was hypnotized into it.

I was walking to the van after the concert, swinging my bag with the shirt in it, going through Times Square, when suddenly this guy next to me, in a really thick country accent said:

"'Scuse me, kin Ah take yer pitcher?"
"What?"
"Ah said, kin Ah take yer pitcher?"
"My picture?"
"Ah luv yer hayer!"

So I smiled for the camera, and told him that I hoped the colour would show in the dark, realizing later that I should have taken it out of its ponytail for a better show.

A tourist took my picture in Times Square! I am now officially a New York sight. I am tickled pink, so to speak.

Today's horoscope:
Paying attention to the details gives you perspective on needed repairs at home or work.

One year ago today:
She put me on three prescriptions and told me to stay out of work all week. I do not want to stay out of work all week, I have way too much to do.

* Yesterday / Index / This Month / Tomorrow *

E-Mail

Graphics by the honourable Saundra!

This page was written by hand. My hand. Only pussies use HTML editors.
Last Updated Sun 3 February 14:59:09 2002