Off the Avenue

*photo by Jon Strymish

This one is coming to you from my new home in (south) Austin, Texas.

I sit here with a cup of some of the best coffee I have ever tasted and I am still surprised to be here and not in Camberville/Sombridge making plans to have margaritas with you tonight.

I have been out a few times in Austin, and so far I have found that the food and cocktails alone have justified the move. (!)

Now because you are dying to know... the live music here is fine. There are a lot of places to find it, and in just a tiny fraction of time, I have seen a handful of genius players at work.

I think anyone who treasures the musicians along Mass Ave like I do will agree that it is not just that it is a talented songwriter/player community. It is this along with who they are; people that if I were the weight of a sack of (red bliss) potatoes, I would run and jump into their arms when I see them. I would climb them like the oak trees that they are. (inspired by the famous words of Jess Tardy, "I'd like to climb him like a tree.") They are friends to love.

You never move to a new city and expect that you will find a replacement for everything you left behind. My psychotic loyalty is your assurance. I cannot imagine sinking down into the refuge of a place so beloved to me as the Lizard Lounge is, and seeing anything like a Dinty Child sitting among the SA setup, tuning up one of the dozen instruments they use up there.

In case I am unclear, I am happy and loving my new city. I am satisfied with having found a true love in the Cambridge music scene. There is not an equivalent to be discovered Anywhere on the planet, at least not for me. I did not move to Austin specifically to hear more/better/different music, I came here to discover more of me.

You who know me know this: my passion for what I love does not run out or stop functioning. I am in it. I will admit, and appear silly (because I am) and tell you that when I think about having cutoff my musical access to Tim Gearan and Duke Levine, I instantly plummet into stubborn, silent weeping. Rose P is not going to sit here and play her new song for me either, is she. So in the meantime, I just text Sean Staples. Because he oversees it all for me, and will undoubtedly text me back.

I need a warm-up for this Oaxaca blend coffee, and to get back to living in this fabulous new town I am in.

::n.a.s::

p.s.
Advice on making this happen is welcome:

"I was just thinking that you need live feed cameras at all the rooms in Sombridge so you can monitor all the musical happenings from your command central position. I picture a bank of monitors and speakers, with a continuous supply of margaritas. Of course you would want to pay the cover to these needy musicians, so you would have direct deposit to their accounts. We at least HAVE to get you a live feed of the Anais show next week (and Sub Rosa, and Kev, and Hayride, and, and, and.)" ~Dinty Child, Facebook

Oh Hear Us

I have posted yet another video from the 2007 film project benefit at Club Passim.

This video is an incredibly gorgeous version of Jennifer Kimball's, Eternal Father. Rose Polenzani lends her sweet voice to the mix, while Duke Levine stands heroically by, on electric.

The song is from Jennifer's last record, Oh Hear Us, released in 2006. The first verse comes from the hymn Eternal Father and the second from Our God Our Help in Ages Past.

I can't say how much I miss Jennifer and her music here around the Avenue. She and the family are due to return from Ireland in June. Until then we have a few YouTube videos to tide us over.

Eternal father strong to save
Whose arm does bind the restless wave
Who biddst the mighty ocean deep
Its own apointed limits keep
Oh hear us when we cry to thee
For those in peril on the sea

Time, like an ever-rolling stream
Bears all its children soon away
To fly forgotten as a dream
Dies at the opening of the day
Oh, hear us when we cry to thee
For those in peril here with me

Oh let the darkness shine as light
Make endless nightime to be bright
When fear and sorrows all have passed
Then face to face well meet at last
Be still when tears are wiped from men
Whose eyes shall never weep again,
weep again, weep again.

Ladies and Gentlemen...

The MAGNIFICENT tellers of my soul, Tim Gearan and Duke Levine.

"You Could Do Alright For a Song"

A Little Tenderness

Last night my little gang of usual conspirators were off somewhere else and I had no thoughts about who to rally for usual Sunday shenanigans. Our tradition is to meet at the Burren in Davis Square for the front room Americana session and a few pints of Guinness.

From the Burren I sometimes head over to Precinct for the Sea Monsters, but last night I wanted to see another band at the Highland Kitchen. So I found myself a free agent and absolutely confused about what directions my legs should go. There was a brilliant moon, and it said that I could not be at home. I am a great listener when I want to be.

I walked out of the house at quarter of eight to head down to the square. I passed a music store, where lingerers peered wantonly through the glass, then Johnny D's, where the sound of the blues jam made Holland Street a lively, lovely scene. Next up was a street musician pouring out his soul for people frolicking outside the ice cream store or sitting around in the square with friends.

I was kicking down the street joyfully, smiling. I love this town, and the songs I heard and the ones in my head... like "all I need is lovin' you and music, music, music..." and "we've come to the place where everything is music, everything is music, let it play."

I stepped into the Burren and heard the sound of my Sunday around me- the boys playing songs that I never tire of hearing, and seeing the faces that I expect to see surrounding them.

When it was over I knew these neighborhood friends would be heading to the Precinct, but I walked out unsure and solemnly aware that the night's events were more unclear than they'd ever been. So I started down Highland Avenue toward the Highland Kitchen, not so sure I would actually walk through the doors once I got there after twenty minutes of walking.

Every other moment I considered turning back and landing home. I stopped in front of the armory and thought how pretty it looked at night... lingered by the gates of the "Little Sisters of the Poor," a home for needy elderly... but I eventually continued on.

I did it, I walked in- and then my heart leapt at the sight of my friends Chris and Jenny. Chris has been away on tour for a long time, and having friends in the room after a weary walk was a godsend. Chris had been in a session with Laura Cortese at Hi-N-Dry earlier, so they all mosied to the HK afterward. Pure delight for me to see everybody there.

They went home after a drink, and I stayed it out. I'll wall-lean until the bitter end as my ears grab eagerly for the sound of Duke Levine on electric guitar. I am everyday more impressed at my own swooning abilities- nobody does it better.

I left. I walked a block or so in the direction of the square, then yes, I went back again. (it may have been the moon edging me on, the way it knew to do.) I stepped into the crowded side of the bar and asked for a glass of water, then I took up a conversation with a friendly writer sitting nearby... then after telling him that I could not decide whether or not go to the Precinct for the end of the Sea Monsters show... we were in his car, on our way there. He came in with me, then I lost him.

But I found everyone else that I had left back at the Burren, I heard some sweet music, and after another offer of a ride- I wound up with Ruth at the Tavern At the End of the World.

I am making my way foggily through this day, listening to Otis Redding. I am thinking that last night when I was weary, the universe showed me a little tenderness.

Thanks to all of you who are inside of the places that I will always want to go to. You are sure a tender bunch.

Meghan Says...

Meghan says that "it is the end of an era around here."

It was a just a few months ago that I wrote how beloved the Tim Gearan Band is to the local fan community, and how there is no place like Monday night at Toad. Will we ever know such an epic residency like this again? (The band will be playing at Atwood's going forward... good news if you were not attached to the Friday night version of Tim's band.)

In the remaining weeks look for me at Toad as I record memories from the regulars that helped to create the energy and magic over the years. This piece will be available to view at the Deli Magazine website, probably at the end of September.

In other News...

This weekend is the incredible Club Passim Campfire Festival in Harvard Square. Tickets are offered at a lower price this year, so if you're around, it's well worth the $10. I will be there all weekend, either at the merch table or enjoying the music.

AND

I have made a little fan page for The Giant Kings on Facebook, please join. Check out this fabulously fun band twice this month at the Lizard Lounge! I have started a poem about them- that's how cool I think they are. (Duke Levine, Kevin Barry, Chris Cote... COME ON) Maybe I will post it here when I am done.

:kiss kiss:
*Check out this blog for more photos by David Griffin.

ON AND OFF OF MASS AVE: the film

Years ago, while attending Vermont College, I began writing about favorite songwriters. This was my effort to keep focused on school when my heart and free time were so clearly devoted to experiencing local music.

Sitting at Toad one night, I looked around me and I knew there needed to be a preservation of the music community that I was so attached to. So much had already come and gone, and I had missed a lot of it. Still, I drew on the unending magic of the Somerville/Cambridge songwriter scene, I visualized capturing it in a way that documented a little of what had been, and what is living and thriving here today. That is how (along with my roommate, Brian Schwartz) I came to shoot tape after tape of video footage, and why people are still eagerly awaiting this film... we all want to capture our beloved corner of paradise.

It is the way you might fall for anything- one minute you are encountering someone or something, and next you are all swoons and devotion. I got to know local music as it lent itself to me. I connected the dots, then after putting myself in front of every dinky stage around, I discovered a community of artists who generously give their talent to one another, night after night, song after song. Many of them have been playing music together for decades, others are just discovering each other's music. To be able to take part in this as an audience, and often times a friend, is something I will never take for granted.

In fact, most of the recorded music I listen to from day to day is by local musicians- I own a lot of music that is great and that I love, only, nine out of ten times I simply put on the music of people who play around me. I could listen to Timmy Gearan any night of the week, and there's a good chance that if Sean Staples, Jimmy Ryan, or Duke Levine are out playing somewhere, I will want to be there. Same goes for the glorious ladies, whose voices can stop any fool in their tracks. It might be Lori McKenna, playing a half-secret show, or the magnificent Jennifer Kimball, lending back vocals that will make you shake your head in wonder- I am always shaking my head in wonder it seems...

*photo credit, Jon Strymish