Rustic Roads

Fall is definitely here now. Last week the leaves were all yellow, brown and a few flaming red. It was lovely to just drive around Charlottetown which saved me the bother of driving to Vermont or Cape Breton to see some fall color.

On Saturday, I sold a guitar to a boy from Nova Scotia who lived near the Caribou - Wood Island boat. We made an arrangement that he would walk off the boat in Wood Island to pick the guitar up which he did. It was just a $400 guitar but for him it was the best guitar in the world. As he was walking back to the boat, I heard him tell his friend “Sweet!” It was so cool.

On the way home, I decided to explore dirt roads to see the fall colors. A Suburban from Iowa was driving slowly ahead of us: must be looking for the Jack’s Road as I was. The road was pretty cool – trees hanging over the road with a canopy. Someone has clear cut the field to the north which took away from the hidden feel the road used to have.

Emboldened, I looked for another dirt road to travel and found one that joined two paved roads – that one was narrower and even more rustic – closer trees and deeper forests on either side, the Caledonia County Line Road. This was fun.

At the end of that road, I saw an even smaller road, called the Lewes Road that I had taken 20 years ago so I drove up. Lewes is famous for two things on PEI: 1) Angus MacLean a Federal MP, Premier and veteran homesteaded there and started the blueberry industry on PEI and 2) it was the home of the US draft dodgers from the Vietnam War in the 1970’s. Things were interesting in Lewes back in those days. It was the place where Woodstock stayed alive for ten more years and I was the accountant to the hippies. Had a full bushy beard and wore sandals to work back then: you wouldn’t know me now but I have the pictures and memories to prove it.

The Lewes Road was even smaller again. The branches were brushing against the side of the car. It was bumpy and climbed up a steep hill. And then I saw them – ruts on each side of the crest in the narrow road that the rain had washed deep enough to swallow each car wheel. I stopped. My heart is pumping. I don't want to go back because it's to narrow to turn around but the road ahead is impossible. The middle of the road are more than a foot higher than the side. The two ruts for each wheel seem impossible to miss. If a wheel goes down into a rut it's like a canyon. The tire would get stuck. The car feels wider than the road and the road is too narrow to navigate.

It's the middle of nowhere and I feel like the forest is rushing at me even though the car is at a dead stop.

My head is swimming as I stop trying to decide. I have to go on. I never turn back: it’s a way of life. Slowly I start the car in first gear. I stay to the edge and immediately one wheel falls into a rut. I apply the gas slowly and the car keeps moving. Lights flash on the dashboard but I can't look. No the wheels are spinning. It’s getting stuck. The hill is so steep and the car is stalling. No, it’s moving forward. My blood is pumping.

Hannah is screaming in the back seat: “we’re gonna get stuck! We’re lost! Turn around!”

I twist the wheel this way and that way trying to avoid losing my tire in the deep holes. Branches scratch the car doors, slapping the windows. The road gets worse, narrower, deeper ruts. The road disappears as I inch up the hill and turned right. Now I am driving over alder and brush. No one has been on this road for years. My mind races with exhilaration. Oh my God, the paint on the side of the car will be wrecked to pieces with these tree limbs.

And then I see the end. It's over, I made it. I conquered the forest.

I stopped and went outside and the car was all mud and scratches. I might need a paint job on the doors – there are long scratches from the front to the back. It was so exciting my throat was dry. I needed a Coke.

Thanks to the Band

Has the summer really come and gone. The Dylan vacation seems like a great, distant memory.

Have you seen No Direction Home? It is an excellent biography of Dylan's early years with Dylan talking openly about his music. Worth watching and owning.

One frustrating things is to realize how much video footage they have in vaults that is not being released. Pennebaker took color videos of the 66 tour. There is also the Hard Rain tour from the 70's. We want that stuff.

I posted a garage recording of my old band, Expecting Rain, which was done June 04. Thanks to Heidi Jury on keyboards and backup vocals, Todd King on lead guitar, Jeff Smith on bass and Matt Chandler on drums. Robert Arsenault may be on mandolin but its hard to hear in the mix. Thanks to Todd for recording and mixing the track. I did lead vocals, accoustic guitar and harmonica. Sounds primitive but that was us back then. We started in March and played weekly until August with a few personnel changes. It was a great time and we made big progess, especially considering I only started performing in February. Today our sound is much tighter and more rock - audiences don't want slow ballads although Knockin always goes over well. They usually want to rock out.

Performing has been a great joy to me. I usually do one open mic a week and jam frequently with other musicians, amazingly mostly people in their 20's. We had a great jam last night at Piazza Joe's Restaurant. Half of the night was Metal - the other was Bob Dylan material. Our second set was on fire - we rocked the night out. It creates quite a buzz. We had 26 people, up from 16 the week before and 8 the first week. We are climbing but may die anyways - owners like to make money on the bar - a fact of business life.

Anyone else out there performing Dylan material in their area? How and when? What kind of reaction are you getting and who is your audience.

Dylan in the Berkshires

It is with joy and sadness that we gave Bob Dylan and his band a standing ovation after the final song tonight in the Berkshires of Massachusetts. While the band will go on to other towns across America, our Bob Dylan Tour is over and we return home to PEI tomorrow.

To protest the bland drives along the Interstate highways, we drove small local roads from Mystic, CT this morning to Pittsfield, MA. By the direct route it takes 2.5 hours: however, it took us all day to drive through river valleys, gorges and up into the Berkshires. We followed a mountain stream for almost an hour in a pretty, dreamlike drive. I was slightly disappointed that the Berkshires didn’t look dreamlike on account of the frosting - eh? James Taylor, what gives?

I want to thank the good folks at Comfort Inn who wouldn’t let us cancel the reservation we made yesterday in Springfield. I guess they need to steal our money to keep their business afloat. Really makes me want to use Choice Inns again. Not.

We got here amazingly in time. The cops said we had to park at the hospital like blocks away– did I look sick? – and then relented at the last minute. My girlfriend says I have shit-house luck since I get to park right by the entrance no matter what. Same thing happened in Lancaster and Pittsfield – I can’t help it if I’m lucky.

This was the last show so we stocked up on Dylan and Willie swag: scarves, a Willie T-shirt, Dylan buttons, stickers, golf hat (for the girlfriend: I have no time to chase little white balls), baseball cap and the great black gambler shirt. Wow will that look good on stage. Got a poster from each night and enough Dylan T-shirts to last for years.

My girlfriend said she only wanted to hear one song, “It Ain’t Me Babe.” She reminded me that it was the first song I sang when she met me at Babba’s in Charlottetown on our first date. Well, if you can call coming to a club to watch me perform a date. Ask Bob yourself, I offered lamely.

The show started on time. The Greencards did their Bluegrass thing with incongruous Brit accents for patter and North Carolina for singing. This is heaven: a warm summer night in the mountains, sitting in a small baseball park (seats like 3,000, 10,000 standing) eating hotdogs and Bud with my little lady by my side – all the while listening to Willie Nelson run through his fave’s and hits. Willie still sounds good but not as exciting as the first night. I am going to learn to play some of those delicious chords of his I promise myself again.

The Wahconah ballpark is right out of the 1920’s. So small and elemental one is surprised there are washrooms. The stands have wooden floors and wooden seats – cool. According to the proprietor of the White Horse Inn, some people proposed an upgrade and they were voted down by locals who wanted to keep it the way it was. Should have sent those people to Chicago before they tore down the gloriously small Comiskey Park. Cominskey was so small and old you could see the picture sweat from the stands. Now they have one of those monstrous antiseptic things and who cares about the Sox now?

I made my way down in front of the stage and where there were plenty of graying boomers but even more young people. Bob is enjoying a renaissance among a whole new generation and the music is why. He really rocks, plain and simple. He grabs the audience and holds onto it. The younger audience is less interested in the slow numbers but he perseveres and they applaud each song while really giving it up for the hard and fast numbers.

Of the three concerts, Pittsfield is the least friendly crowd. Lancaster was a family crowd in the stadium and a party crowd on the field. Norwich was a sharing, happy crowd – laid back. In Pittsfield, the mood was “keep to yourself.” There were three or four ugly personalities in the small area I occupied: a couple of 50-ish women who pushed back on people and made a scene about the smoking, a brutish bullying man who moved threateningly through the crowd, a tall young man who wouldn’t let a small young girl stand in front of him so she could see. The happy people kept it to themselves. I felt like moving somewhere else but it was clear the mood pervaded the entire area at centre stage. Thank God the music on the stage could drown out the unhappy people in the audience.

What stands out tonight? “Down Along the Cove” which cooked. I was almost ecstatic when Dylan blew the lid off the band for “It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)”. We roared on cue at “Even the President of the United States sometimes must have to stand naked.” Who would have thought that 60’s tune could be so current and hot. The crowd loved it: I felt like a head banger. “Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues” was fresh but familiar. The song can really drone – three chords and all – but tonight it was right on. “Highway 61” was a screamer – we shouted out the last line for each verse. “Blind Willie McTell” – liked it but was more thrilled to hear a strong, fresh arrangement of “Chimes of Freedom”. There are so many great images in that song. What did Dylan say? Each line was a poem he didn’t have the time to write.

Dylan stayed true to his new instrumental keyboard style along with harmonica solos. That’s OK with me except he might turn the keyboard up in the mix: you can’t really hear what he is doing as a lead instrument most of the time. Donnie Herron gave us a surprise when he played the violin – shades of Scarlet Rivera, although he had none of her wailing off-key sound. He does make the steel guitar cry convincingly. George Recile is a powerhouse drummer who propels the songs forward. Danny Freeman plays a jazzy style on what looks to be a Wes Montgomery ES-175. The tone is mellow and allowed him to create unique licks for the songs. I just discovered how much rock sound you get from one of those Gibson semi-hollow body guitars so I appreciated hearing him. Stu Kimball’s Telecaster was hot and clear – the elemental rock/country lead. He also doubled on a Gibson jumbo and for one song on a Gibson ES-335, which created a super mellow sound alongside Danny Freeman – two guitarists on semi-hollow body Gibson’s. I wait for the day when Dylan gives us his guitar on at least one song.

You can’t argue with him though. He is the artist, creating the palette he wants. Like Picasso, he has detractors of the day in every moment of his life who want him to return to this or that period. I found it best to approach each new work, sound or style with an open mind. Early judgment usually means we have to eat crow later on when it turns out we really dig the stuff.

I returned to my girlfriend in time to hear her wish come true: “It Ain’t Me Babe” was the first song in the encore. She was happy and I got an extra kiss and song-long hug. That’s her song, sung first by her guy and now by the Bobster himself. Down in front of the band the music was hot and compelling. Back in the stands it had an unplugged feeling with the steel guitar, Tony on up-right bass, and the warm jazzy guitar.

We were still singing “Like A Rolling Stone” after the applause, after the lights went up and after we all stood around in the parking lot trying to sort out what had happened. Bob went by in his big bus and the crowd spontaneously applauded the bus as it passed. The king of poetic rock was leaving but he left us with a great night and a great memory.

I wondered why they don’t put music like that on CD’s. Has there been a live release since “Real Live”?

Tomorrow we drive back but I will take the slow way home, maybe head north until I find Route 2 then east through Vermont and New Hampshire. We need time to decompress from our week on the road with Bob Dylan. My girlfriend wants to do it again next year. Is she a keeper or what?

Norwich is Awesome

Just got out of the Norwich, CT concert of Bob Dylan and Willie Nelson. Wow – it was the best yet. Sorry Greencards, we missed your bluegrass pickin’. We gut stuck in traffic from Lancaster, PA to Norwich, CT. Traffic on Route 22 just stopped for an hour before Allentown, which is not falling down contrary to Billy Joel’s proscription. We finally turned around on the median. Again on Route 22 outside Bethlehem. There must be two seasons in PA: winter and construction. I wish I owned a cement company building one of those great multi-million dollar highways. Then we get stuck in the drive home traffic from New York City to New Haven. A five hour trip in 9 hours. At least I could sing and play Dylan tunes for my girl as she drove. We arrived in the middle of Willie’s set. It seemed flat but picked up before he quit,

As pre-arranged, I left my girlfriend in the stands and made my way, Bud in hand, to the area front of the stage. A young couple stood back to front. A tallish man in his 50’s was talking to his wife about the significance of a song. Two boomer women to my left wanted to talk Dylan so I obliged. How long have you been a Dylan fan? Since the revolution. Right on – since 1963. The new band is terrific. You’ll be rocked. Sing something for us. No, wait you’ll here me sing before this night is over. I let three young fellows go in front of me and we talked Dylan. An Italian girl to the left was smoking alone with her boyfriend who asked me if I had children. Five. Why? I wish my dad would come to one of these. A young guy in dreadlocks asked her for a toke. The band moved into position and Dylan shuffled to his keyboard, The band started into “Drifter’s Escape”……and we rocked. “Love Minus Zero” was mesmerizing. I thought “Shooting Star” was “Mississippi” – nope just a cool new arrangement. The master has his touch.

Too bad Larry et all are gone but the new band is terrific. They have new skills and new sounds– the drummer is smoking. The lead guitarist mellow and crunchy. The rhythm solid and textured. The slide ads that emotional tone that reminded me of Daniel Lanois last week in Toronto, especially on “Standing in the Doorway” which seared through my heart. “Highway 61” had us screaming the last line of the verse. The crowd was wild. The acoustic “John Brown” with banjo was very arresting, so exciting to hear that song live.

We rocked. We swayed. We grooved. Bodies touched back through the music. We went inside ourselves and outside at the same time. The music built and built, song after song. Dylan was grooving, relaxed, smiling broadly to the band during the break on
“Memphis Blues.”

The curly headed boy walked right past us looking for his friends. You’re friend missed you. Oh no, no problem. He’s only our ride back to Boston. Could you take us? No problem: I thought you were gonna ask me for something hard. You’re cool man.

Tired and hungry, I took some fries and Pepsi to my girlfriend back in the stands. Only I couldn’t find her along the first base line, until I remembered she was on the 3rd base line. I joined her in time for Dylan to launch the right-on “Masters of War.” I just started doing this song again in public in May. The arrangement was new, the lead guitar more menacing than the “Real Live.” After introducing the band Dylan closed with a great “Like a Rolling Stone.” I heard echoes of Mike Bloomfield’s lead from 1965 in the final break before the close out sequence.

My girlfriend says this was the best one yet, She is right and now really interested in Thursday night in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. I am writing this while she drives back to the hotel. I have to find the tapes for Lancaster to Pittsfield. These concerts are awesome.

The Bob Dylan Vacation

While I have been a Bob Dylan aficionado since 1963, I never thought of myself as a fan. So I know the words to 500 plus Bob Dylan songs and the chords for half as many - everyone has to learn some music. I also know a Trini Lopez tune or two. So I play harmonica with a rack, practicing in front of the dining room mirror when I was 13. So my late blooming performance repertoire contains tunes by the Bobster and my friends say I have a perfect voice - for Bob Dylan songs. They usually add...we mean that as a compliment.

When Bob Dylan performed in Montreal in the 60's, I refused to go - too obviously a fan activity. I liked the music but the man - well, that was something else.

In 1997 I relented and went to see him in Moncton. The Coliseum was 2/3rd full of white guys with grey hair and the sweet smell of the 60's. In 2002 I went to see him in Halifax and then followed him to Moncton the next day. OK that was almost a fan thing, although I was going there anyway.

Lately things have changed. I realize there have been one too many mornings and a million miles of wasted time not being a Bob Dylan fan. This year's penance is the Bob Dylan vacation - three concerts in 5 days from Pennsylvania to Massachusetts. Bob is touring with the Greencards from Aussieland and Britain and Willie Nelson. Coming up from Florida, he is taking a left turn at Boston and heading out west before making his only Canadian appearance in Vancouver. Wow Willie Nelson and Bob on the same bill.

I came up with the inspired idea of a Bob Dylan vacation: get tickets for 3 concerts, drive down, hang around the concert cities and catch the fun. Bob has helped by holding these concerts in small ballparks. He knows I am a sucker for baseball. My next inspiration was to talk my girlfriend into coming along. She is more a "me" fan than a Bob Dylan fan, but as she sleeps soundly in my bed while I write this blog, I know she is becoming a real Bob fan.

I won't bore you here with the drive down, playing folk songs in the back seat, being called a Deadhead by the Immigration guy at Calais or the bad nights in cheap hotels. We made it to Lancaster, the first concert was a blast and it's the next day. Thanks to Joanie & Joseph and Jonathan Meyer for the phone calls with the setlist to the Boblinks and to Expectingrain.com for publishing it before I got to my hotel room at midnight. Those people are real fans: I regretfully am a mere amateur. Here for your info is the set list

Lancaster, Pennsylvania
Clipper Magazine Stadium
June 19, 2005

1. Tombstone Blues
2. Lay, Lady, Lay
3. God Knows
4. Visions Of Johanna
5. Most Likely You Go Your Way (And I'll Go Mine)
6. Million Miles
7. Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again
8. Tryin' To Get To Heaven
9. Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum
10. Positively 4th Street
11. New Morning
12. Summer Days
(encore)
13. The Times They Are A-Changin'
14. All Along The Watchtower

Some of this is the same as the previous night but quite a bit is different. Cool. He covers everything from the beginning to the latest. I hope he does Masters of War or Idiot Wind later this week. Postively 4th Street is inspired. Each song created an enormous wave of pressure for me. Bob likes to paste new melodies over the old ones from time to time so I was challenged once or twice to name that tune for my girlfriend in the first few bars - thankfully, I got them all right. I did mis-name the bass player but she forgave me when I corrected myself later. I think she knew I was wrong but politely let me get it straight.

Have you ever been to a 4.5-hour outdoor concert? You butt gets sore. Guess that's why some people around us made their way to the exit after the 3.5-hour mark. Wrong choice - they missed the hottest All Along the Watchtower in my memory. I made myself a promise to go the front of the stage in Connecticut to get closer, allow myself to bop, catch the wave and maybe get a puff of whatever was blowing smoke in Lancaster. In the stands you drink beer and eat fattening foods. People applaud but don't dance. These are nice people for buying their tickets and souvenirs but not my kind of people. I want to feel the music inside my body and mind. I promise not to mosh...unless it seems like a good idea. Anyways, Bobster fans don't mosh: they mostly sway and toke. (One culture note: in Canada there would have been more open use of loose joints. In PA, beer was the replacement item)

The Greencards? - Bluegrass with a Brit accent. We have that on PEI - anyone can do the bluegrass accent. The Greencards are certainly listenable at 6:30 pm on a summer night.

Willie Nelson - man is that guy good. So smooth and he gets inside the rhythm of a song. I made a mental note to either practice my guitar more, buy a Martin N-20 or both. I actually found a couple for like $10,000 on the Internet.

Dylan - he is the man. Didn't disappoint me or my girlfriend - well she told me! I gots to go get breakfast but I'll drop you a line later with detailed notes. I need to practice more and get me a crack back-up band real fast.

Bobster - in Amish country