Coat of One Color

I drove to Buffalo Friday morning. A weather system had sprinted through western New York the night before, headed almost due east. It wasn’t overly big in areal extent but it had some energy and speed. Areas away from the lake and higher in elevation got heavier accumulations, but the route from Webster to Downtown Buffalo had been equally coated with only about three inches of snow from start to finish. The snow’s consistency was very moist, and the storm hadn’t packed too much of a wallop in terms of wind, so the snowflakes were able to grab ahold of the first thing they touched and stay put. Like a whipped cream layer on every surface. No plant, object or surface went uncoated. If it wasn't for body heat, every critter would have looked like an unshorn sheep.

Normally when you look at a stand of bare trees and peer into the mass of wood you see branches but their dark appearance can make it hard to distinguish the branches of one tree from the next. This snow coat had been able to individually wrap the smallest of twigs on every tree, and with the storm being pretty freshly finished, the wind and sun had not yet begun to strip that delicate coating. In that gray morning light it was not hard to see nearly the entire structure of any individual tree. And no two trees alike, just like the snowflakes. Somewhere past Batavia there was a stretch where a fog layer had developed over the vast open fields, but was elevated off the ground somewhat. The tops of the taller trees and the occasional cell tower faded upward to nothingness. It was like driving in a dream, and what is possibly the most boring and uninteresting stretch of road I know of was one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen in a long time.

Uptown Downtown

Tonight was another great musical event sponsored by my good friends John and Julie Bernunzio, at their Uptown Music store downtown on East Avenue. The two of them have been purveyors of vintage (and now also new) stringed instruments for many years now (probably 3-1/2 decades in John's case). You won't find a bigger, better collection of guitars, mandolins and banjos in this part of the country, and maybe anywhere for all I know. If you've never been, you must. You don't have to be a musician to appreciate what a gem of an establishment this store is, and what a great contribution to the City's East End it is. It's a visual extravaganza of strings and frets, with an amazingly warm glow about it.

They were only open for about a year when they decided to expand, and it now has enough breathing room to host wonderfully intimate performances by people who really know how to use frets and strings. Tonight it was Steve Piper, Maria Gillard and Scott Regan, who are collectively known as The Amazing Crandalls. Sweet folk music of the local persuasion. And they closed with Dylan's I Shall Be Released so everybody got to pitch in.

I've known John and Julie since I was a young teenager. Julie grew up on my street and was my sister Sheila's best friend. John's younger brother Tom was my very close buddy back in school days and I worked at their family's business, RanCora Bakery, for a few years. I always tell people I was a token member of the Bernunzio family, and their mom Clara was such a great cook, my mom asked me why I never came home for dinner anymore. I learned all about construction from their father Sam when the new bakery was built in Webster and they moved the business out of the city. Tom and Ginny were at the show tonight so it was great to catch up with them.

My sisters played matchmakers all those years ago and got John and Julie together. The matchmaking business can be a very slippery slope, and I remember telling them that, but luckily they did not listen to me, as this was a real success story.

One of their most famous customers, and a long time friend of theirs is David Grisman. Thanks to John and Julie I got to meet one of my all-time musical heroes:
Anytime there is music in this store it's a wonderful event. You can imagine what a hub of activity it is during the Jazz Festival. Uptown Music is Rochester's version of McCabe's Guitar Shop in Santa Monica, famous for it's long tradition of live shows. Let's hope this new local tradition becomes a long one, too.

Guitarred and Feathered redux

Caught the show by Guitarrred and Feathered last night. Again, let me say:
















A little over a year ago I saw them and wrote down a brief review when I got home. I had no blog at the time but I sent it to Scott Regan, who forwarded it on to Phil Marshall who posted it on his own blog. Allow me to recycle:

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Guitarred and Feathered
Daily Perks Coffeehouse
November 4, 2006

It’s the old three-legged stool analogy – each leg is equally important and required to keep it upright. The legs on this musical stool – Phil Marshall, Scott Regan and Kinloch Nelson – were clearly each cut from a different type of tree and each turned on a different lathe. But they play complimentary acoustic guitar styles that make for a comfortable and sturdy work as a whole.Each performer took turns this night playing and/or singing, with collaboration on many of the tunes.

Kinloch Nelson uses his considerable technical virtuosity on aggressively-interpretive versions of a wide variety of song styles. Old TV themes like “Get Smart” and “Rawhide” were fun, “Sleepwalk” and “Song of India” were lush and dense with changes. A high point was a sad and gentle instrumental version of the Shirelles’ “Soldier Boy” – his elegant tone and texture gave a rich rosewood feel. He seems to use all ten fingers in a flurry of plucking and strumming that creates an atmospheric resonance.

Scott Regan is a wonderful and gifted songwriter – I’ll stand on Steve Earl’s coffee table in my hiking boots and say that. His style is cut from a straight-trunked maple. He has a unique perspective, which any good songwriter needs, and his compositions generally seem to expose the underlying grain of personal experience. His lyrics and song structure bring to mind John Prine or Michael Hurley; he clearly could play on the same stage with either and no one would be embarrassed.

Phil Marshall is that well-traveled, intricate piece of driftwood that has seen its share of shorelines. He delved into old standards and pop hits with a varied and often jazzy feel. He was equally at home with a soft, bossa nova strumming style as he was with rootsy country and blues picking. His solo reading of “Begin the Beguine” gave the song a feeling that won’t be found in any big band version. He launched into a gorgeous rendition of “Nature Boy” before cutting it short because he couldn’t quite remember the lyrics; the haunting instrumentation alone would have sufficed – it was that good. And his understated touch with the bottleneck in support of the other players always lent a nice feel.

They all pitched in on Nelson’s version of Lorne Greene’s “Ringo.” And speaking of Ringo, the Beatles were well-represented through “Norwegian Wood” (with deep resonant harmonics from Phil’s guitar) and “Blue Jay Way.”

These three should make their way into a studio and capture some of this stuff, although a small room full of coffee drinkers may be where they are most at home.

Federal Agent-at-Large Presley

I'm not as big a fan of Elvis's music as most people are, but he was certainly a compelling figure, not just as a musical phenom but as an American icon. And of all the pictures taken of him, this is the most compelling, for me. It's a famous shot, everyone has seen it. But thanks to the National Security Archive at George Washington University, you can get the REST of the story, and it's a good one. There are several documents, but they are brief so don't skip them. None more precious than Elvis's hand-written note to Nixon asking for the meeting.

[I'll let Mr. President here have a look at these, but you keep your distance, mister]