I have a lot to do today, laundry, shopping, and recording at least one edition of Gord’s Gold for Folk Music Notebook. Before any of that I have to write this.
Yesterday I said that I would do laundry and go shopping and probably not go to see Birds of Chicago. I got that exactly wrong; I overestimated my wherewithal to get things done and underestimated the lure of the Avians from the Second City. As they day wore on I knew I’d be heading up to Hastings to see Allison and JT. I took a new route, the 4 bus to Yonkers and the Metro North just one stop to Hastings. The timing worked out so that was best. The show was at MacEcharon Waterfront Park, on the east bank of the beautiful Hudson river. The timing of the train was perfect, I arrived two minutes before the show was scheduled to start. I brought my stadium seat and put it down front between Richard and Carter. Then I got up to say hello to John & Sheila and Perry & Beth. Later Barbara came over. The show was presented by Peter. This was obviously an aficionado show as we all go to NERFA. That’s not to say that the Birds of Chicago are only for folk insiders, they are one of the great audience-pleasing bands. I have never seen them not blow the crowd away.
They please the casual listener with their soulful singing while rewarding the careful listener with their songwriting and arrangements. You’d have to work hard to not enjoy one of their shows. And even if you succeeded most of the show, you’d melt when their 5-year-old daughter Ida joins them onstage. Their music draws from trad folk, gospel, and rock, sometimes all at once. I wish I had a video of their epic rendition of Wind that Shakes the Barley. JT’s contribution to the song is hand clapping. After the song Ally gave him a shout out. He asked if that were for the hand clapping and then asked the crowd if the hand clapping was too much, he wants to be a support hand-clapper and not draw attention away from Allison. That consideration is how you maintain a successful band and a happy marriage.
Years ago I was listening to a history of the banjo and the speaker pointed out how this archetypal African instrument is now almost exclusively played by white men. That’s no longer true; in the last month I’ve seen it played by three black women, Allison, Amythyst Kiah, and Kaia Kater. The latter two should tour together, Kaia and Kiah. Allison and Amythyst do have a band together with someone you might have heard of, Rhiannon Giddens. It’s called Our Native Daughters; Leyla McCalla is the fourth member of the band. She too is a black woman that plays banjo. They are playing in Westport CT on July 23. I want to go. Nobody is better than Rhiannon and I love Allison too.
As the show progressed the sun set over the Hudson, one of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve seen. The light and colors kept changing and providing new delights. I told the other presenters that Peter has them beat as he provides a sunset with the music.
The concert was canine friendly. Near the end a large black dog walked nearby and I signaled for it to come over. It did. I figured it would be tentative and I’d pet it. That’s not what happened. She bounded over and started licking me right on the mouth. This was my #metoo moment, a woman I didn’t know misinterpreted my signals and thought it gave her license to tongue kiss me. I wish she chose another part of my anatomy to lick but I didn’t mind. As long as dogs love me I know I’m a good person.
The timing was great. By the time I was leaving the trains left only once an hour. After the encore I had enough time to say goodbye to all my friends and comfortably make the train with just a short wait. The only thing I couldn’t do was wait for the crowd to thin so I could talk to Ally and JT. I met them when I sold their merch at Irvington Town Hall, I met Ida too, but I’d love to get to know them better.
Now to get my day started. I have one other thing to do, as soon as I finish my coffee start a batch of cold brew. It’s that time of year. It takes 24 hours to brew so I have to start early if I want it ready for tomorrow’s brunch.
Wise Madness 