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Thursday, September 23, 2010
Sister's Folk Festival. TMR, SFF
It has been a tradition in the Taylor Clan for decades, the men gather, at least once a year -but no more than twice, in a location sufficiently removed from the rest of their lives to promote fluidity. The past two years the location and timing of The Men's Retreat (TMR) has coincided - more or less, with the Sister's Folk Festival. Last year Blind Pilot played and I got to hang out with the band a few times. It was there that I got to know Dave Jorgensen and his lovely wife, and I got more than just a far off first impression of Ian Krist. Last years festival was amazing and I really enjoyed just drifting from tent to tent getting to see bands that I had not heard of and to which I had very little, or no exposure. I really enjoyed Pancake Breakfast they caused a ruckus, when they wanted to.
This year, because of a Dan and Lorraine Colwell's 25th Anniversary party and Dan's 50th Birthday, TMR was moved forward a day, which meant that my exposure to the Folk Festival was truncated. It turned out that I pretty much got to see everything I wanted to see. John Hammond blew my mind. He played the mouth harp like it's not in a neck holder. The guitar like he wasn't singing and sung like he wasn't doin' nuthin' else neither. There was a point in his show where he'd knocked his resonator, which was on a guitar stand, off balance and as it slowly began to fall he kept playing with his right hand, reached out with his left, grabbed it, put it back into place, allowed a measure between verses to finish passing and smiled like "yeah you know what time it is", to those of us that even caught what he'd let drop, and then went back to it. It was acrobatic Blues.
I tend not to like happy music. It's difficult to do well. I much prefer desperate, desolate music. It's like the beauty of Wyoming's purple rocks, or The Red Desert, or I-10 between Quartzite and Phoenix. It gets you in the joints, like arthritis, and let's you know the knowledge of good and evil has a price but somehow there's joy in the pain of getting along - tricky little devil. Which is why I didn't particularly like the Jonas - I mean Makepeace Brothers, but admired their ability to write songs that don't suck real heavy, yet are still light like a daffodil. I watched their workshop, which was apparently lighter than their later show.
I listened to what comes up from a google search of The Eilen Jewell Band and thought "this is going to be excellent, self destruction to sweet desperate county swing", but I think it's a hard thing to sell to a small audience of primarily AARP card holders at 9:00 on a Friday night in the back tent. I did, however, catch Ray Wylie Hubbard - or really the last half of RWH. He is everything you'd expect him to be: dirty, greasy, outlaw country. He was hilarious and awesome.
We (Uncle Johnny, Uncle Jose, and I) made some new friends. I'd like to give a shout out to my homie Jim Stark, he can be found at Scoot's Bar and Grill, chillin' on weekend nights, or rambling the National Forest Land looking for folks up to no good on weekdays. I'd also like to give a shout out to the Brew Master at Three Creeks Brewing for telling us about his beer's at the SFF sponsor night, The Amber Anvil was a very well balanced, not over hopped beer - which is rare for an amber and the Hoodoo Voodoo IPA which was a rainbow of hop flavors and I like that because I like complicated Sudoku puzzles. Also please, if you are getting married or have an event in the Central Oregon region that you would like documented please investigate Kara McGinn Jensen of Expectations Video. It's not often that you make friends with real life free-lance documentary film makers - unless your me because it seems like I can now name 3. Okay if I count aspiring documentary film makers and myself then it's 4.
We, TMR participants, plan on hitting the SFF again next year. While I was there I was talking to Israel on the phone about The Bus and The Tour and the like. He directly said that he had a very good time playing the festival last year and that he'd love to play it again. So hey, Sisters Folk Festival listen the eff up!
This year, because of a Dan and Lorraine Colwell's 25th Anniversary party and Dan's 50th Birthday, TMR was moved forward a day, which meant that my exposure to the Folk Festival was truncated. It turned out that I pretty much got to see everything I wanted to see. John Hammond blew my mind. He played the mouth harp like it's not in a neck holder. The guitar like he wasn't singing and sung like he wasn't doin' nuthin' else neither. There was a point in his show where he'd knocked his resonator, which was on a guitar stand, off balance and as it slowly began to fall he kept playing with his right hand, reached out with his left, grabbed it, put it back into place, allowed a measure between verses to finish passing and smiled like "yeah you know what time it is", to those of us that even caught what he'd let drop, and then went back to it. It was acrobatic Blues.
I tend not to like happy music. It's difficult to do well. I much prefer desperate, desolate music. It's like the beauty of Wyoming's purple rocks, or The Red Desert, or I-10 between Quartzite and Phoenix. It gets you in the joints, like arthritis, and let's you know the knowledge of good and evil has a price but somehow there's joy in the pain of getting along - tricky little devil. Which is why I didn't particularly like the Jonas - I mean Makepeace Brothers, but admired their ability to write songs that don't suck real heavy, yet are still light like a daffodil. I watched their workshop, which was apparently lighter than their later show.
I listened to what comes up from a google search of The Eilen Jewell Band and thought "this is going to be excellent, self destruction to sweet desperate county swing", but I think it's a hard thing to sell to a small audience of primarily AARP card holders at 9:00 on a Friday night in the back tent. I did, however, catch Ray Wylie Hubbard - or really the last half of RWH. He is everything you'd expect him to be: dirty, greasy, outlaw country. He was hilarious and awesome.
I said ah man, wait a minute there's gotta be something wrong I aint a bad guy just write these little songs I always pay my union dues don't stay in the passing lane And he said what about all that whiskey and the cocaine I said well yeah but that's no reason to throw me in Hell Cause I didn't use the cocaine to get high, I just liked the way it smelled"
-Ray Wylie Hubbard, Conversation With The Devil
Did I mention I'm not a fan of happy music? You know that analogy above about arthritis being a pain of living, I pretty much straight jacked that shit from Martha Scanlan. She's an amazing song writer. She's pretty much a female Townes Van Zandt, minus the severe and debilitating addictions - which is what I want from a song writer- more Lungs, less German Mustard. I really enjoyed her set on Saturday afternoon on the main stage. I will have some Martha Scanlan in my collection before the week ends. I promise you that! You can take that to the Bank! Fo' Sho'!
We (Uncle Johnny, Uncle Jose, and I) made some new friends. I'd like to give a shout out to my homie Jim Stark, he can be found at Scoot's Bar and Grill, chillin' on weekend nights, or rambling the National Forest Land looking for folks up to no good on weekdays. I'd also like to give a shout out to the Brew Master at Three Creeks Brewing for telling us about his beer's at the SFF sponsor night, The Amber Anvil was a very well balanced, not over hopped beer - which is rare for an amber and the Hoodoo Voodoo IPA which was a rainbow of hop flavors and I like that because I like complicated Sudoku puzzles. Also please, if you are getting married or have an event in the Central Oregon region that you would like documented please investigate Kara McGinn Jensen of Expectations Video. It's not often that you make friends with real life free-lance documentary film makers - unless your me because it seems like I can now name 3. Okay if I count aspiring documentary film makers and myself then it's 4.
We, TMR participants, plan on hitting the SFF again next year. While I was there I was talking to Israel on the phone about The Bus and The Tour and the like. He directly said that he had a very good time playing the festival last year and that he'd love to play it again. So hey, Sisters Folk Festival listen the eff up!
Monday, August 30, 2010
Open
This is the beginning of a series of entries that are a description of my experiences and sometimes my analysis of those experiences. My name is Mick Taylor. I'm a college educated 32 year old suburban American, with a wife and a profession that basically allows me to do whatever I want and at the same keeps me so busy that I don't even have time enough to blog. I have been afforded the opportunity to drive my friends band, Blind Pilot, around in a converted school bus from the end of September to the middle of October and I mean this to be a journal, albeit public.
The name of this Blog is Moriarty in honor of the famous bus driver Neal Cassady.
The name of this Blog is Moriarty in honor of the famous bus driver Neal Cassady.
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