Here It Comes, Part Two

Here It Comes, Part Two

Less than a week now until that annual, masterful reunion of friends to listen to some music performed by master musicians. It is a wonderful event during which I allow myself to eat stuff that I am forbidden to eat and sit in the direct sun, sometimes without a hat, in direct contravention of the wisdom of medical professionals. I once had a friend who would go the the beach in Fort Lauderdale and get burned to a crisp only to return the next day to burn the burn. When asked how he did it he just said, “you just have to not think about it.” I probably won't get burned but I will get very hot and this body just doesn't put up with that the way it did when I was twenty three. One of these days I may be forced to the shade to sit with my friends with less fortitude.

I'm not a great country music fan but I'm going to try to be there to see The Sooners. They just sound like fun and live music can have an allure that recordings don't. Just the name Velveeta Jones is enough to get me there for that and Guy Clark will be our Master Musician this year. I recently saw an Austin City Limits with him, Joe Ely, John Hiatt and Lyle Lovett. Four great singer-songwriters that one should not pass up the opportunity to see whenever possible. I expect Mountain Heart to be a great closer for the evening.

These festivals often bring an exposure to groups that do not fit neatly into the Grammy categories and I lump them into a group I call Americana. It is uniquely American music that takes its influences from any and all other music and poetry that passes by. They may never be the Black Eyed Peas or Katy Perry, Kenny Chesney or Taylor Swift but they make music just as good or better for a lot less money. It's just for the love of the music and maybe to keep from getting a real job. Of course, many of them have a day job and this is just for the love of it.

The history of the festival is that on Saturday it either is so hot you wish you were on the stage where the fans are or it pours down rain. Sometimes both. If it rains you are left with the equally unsavory options of running for the cars or sitting there holding a lightning rod over your head. I will opt for the lightning rod. Saturday is just chock full of good music and workshops culminating with Steve Earle and the Dukes, featuring Allison Moorer. If you haven't listened to Steve since Copperhead Road you may have a surprise coming. His music over the last ten years has taken a decisive turn to what may be described as alternative folk. His admiration of Townes Van Zandt is evident in his ability to tell a story in music. You really need to listen to the lyrics. Steve has taken up residence in Washington Square in Greenwich Village, an old haunt of the folk movement in the early sixties. Allison Moorer, Steve Earle's wife, has added a decidedly softer edge with her harmonies. Ms. Moorer is the sister of Shelby Lynne, the country artist and is an accomplished musician on her own.

These artists derive a considerable amount of their income from the sale of their merchandise and they are accessible to the public which is just one of the many endearments of this festival. A few days ago I was recalling some of the memories of the festival and one that struck me funny was when the GreenCards played here summer before last. The apparent leader of the group was a woman who wore some kind of red garment she swore was a slip. I don't know, that's just what she said and I was in the front row. Anyway, at their booth I asked her how she got here from her native Australia and she began to explain the application for a green card (hence the name of the group) and so on. I had forgotten that our idiom may be different so I stopped her to clarify my question which was how and why does a person pull up roots in Australia to come play the festival circuit in the United States which has to be a difficult task at best. Her explanation was simply, “they don't do this in Australia.” I thought, “huh.” Here is a person who wanted to do this so much she left her native homeland to come half way round the world to play these little venues at hot, sweaty festivals. This is the kind of musician the Master Musician's Festival attracts. If they didn't love it they would not be here because it is not an easy life. They would probably stay at home and get a gig down at the Holiday Inn. I noticed that the GreenCards made the up and coming group list on NPR's music program. We saw them here first. Just like we did The Avett Brothers. As an added attraction, Chris Knight is back. If any of you recall the last time he was here you may be intrigued to see what this appearance is like.

So, come one and come all. It is well worth the price of the ticket. I'll see you front row, center if the Good Lord's willing and the creek don't rise. I'll bet a few of my friends will sit with me for a while.