Peter Phippen and Rahbi Crawford at The Center

 Last night I went to The Center to listen to Peter Phippen on his flutes and Rahbi Crawford on her singing bowls. It was something I would not have experienced had it not been for this blog and I was honored to be invited.

The Center is a big, beautiful stone house between Eau Claire and Altoona on highway 12. Built in 1937 it has been a home to two families. Opening in October 2013, today it is a wellness retreat: “The Center is dedicated to supporting people in wholeness of body, mind and spirit, regardless of religious orientation.”

The Center  is the brainchild of Anita and her husband Scott. Anita is from Minnesota and Scott from Colorado and they met in Seminary in Colorado. He was a United Methodist Pastor for 20 years, which meant he and his family moved every 4-6 years. They have children and wanted something more stable and wandered back to Anita's roots here in the Midwest. Anita first opened The Bridge Creek Cottage, a crafting house in Augusta, then she and her husband opened The Center. Though it's only been operating for 3 months, it appears to have found a following. The Center offers pottery classes and art therapy classes, Positive Living sessions, reiki, yoga, meditation, family therapy, life coaching, ayruveda, Jungian therapy, spiritual direction and a garden club.

Scott gave me a tour before the show and told me, “It's all about the spirit and all [religious] traditions yearn toward that spirit. At The Center we honor all those traditions.” He went on to say that the dictum of The United Methodist Church is “Open hearts, open minds, open doors,” and that their work at The Center is an extension of this.

When I arrived there were only a few people and while The Center still feels and looks like a (very nice and well-appointed) house, the atmosphere was hushed, almost reverent. I caught one man in a dark side-room checking his cell and found myself glad I'd left my phone in the car, thinking that electronics had no place here. As more people wandered in the mood lightened and I saw a lot of cell phones. No one was chastised or struck by lightening. Scott and Anita were warm and welcoming and appeared pleased with the upbeat, friendly bustle of their guests.

This concert--The Center's first--was held in their yoga and mediation area, a round-ish, cork-floored room overlooking Otter Creek. It was dark and snowy, but I'm willing to bet that in the day the view is breathtaking. Guests were encouraged to take their shoes off so as not to damage the cork. The room was light and open with walls of large windows. The lighting was comprehensive without being intrusive and the room had a clean, natural, spartan feel accented by their “teak tree.” The tree is a graceful piece of teak, standing about 3 feet high with naturally branching shelves on which are placed symbols from all the primary religious traditions. There was seating for 49 people with rows of chairs set out in a semi-circle and cushions with Mexican blankets in the front on the floor all facing the teak tree. In front of the tree were Rahbi Crawford's crystal bowls and Peter Phippen's flutes. Every seat was full. I nabbed a place on the floor, off to the side so I could see both the audience and the show.

Scott came to the front of the room and talked briefly about The Center and said that this was their first concert and he was pleased and excited to have Peter and Rahbi. He also said that a couple of people had called and said they would be late and he was trying to wait for them. He then introduced Rahbi and Peter who, gracious and smiling, entered the room and spoke briefly of their work.

Peter is a grammy nominated flautist, known mostly for his work with Native American flutes, though he has flutes from around the world. Rahbi is a “sound healer” and she spoke of how the vibrations from her singing bowls correspond with our chakras—our body's energy centers. She went on to explain that the sound and the vibrations allows relaxation conducive for reprogramming our body, helping it let go of stress. She said that our bodies have memories of past injuries and pain and that sound therapy heals by allowing our body to let those memories go. She talked of her delight in working with Peter because his flutes “play between the notes” enhancing the healing power of the sound.

The realization that this was not going to be like other shows started creeping up on me. I've heard Peter's music. It's wonderfully calm and ambient. It encourages your mind to float into the blue world of Inbetween. Peter and Rahbi hadn't even started and I knew I was going to be lying down. I took a quick look around the room. Some people had grabbed blankets off the shelves and were all relaxed in their chairs, but I was the only one on the floor.

I watched as Peter sat cross-legged on the floor, microphone close to his mouth. He appeared composed and serene, all in black, his long, dark hair loose around his shoulders and brushed back from his face. His flutes were laid out on either side of him in velvet-lined cases. They are basic--primitive--and some are over 200 hundred years old. The woods shine with a veneer of age and use. He later let me hold them and some are crooked and heavy, others are almost magically light. They are all treasured.

Rahbi stepped into the circle of her quartz-crystal singing bowls and knelt. The big bowls are made of opaque crystalline glass and range from a foot to two feet high, all with different diameters. There were 10 of them. There were also 3 smaller, clear-glassed bowls and a pyramid composed of 8 crystal rods, 4 on the base forming the shape of a square and 4 rods standing on each corner of the square, reaching up and meeting in a peak. She only used the pyramid once, but the sound was both delicate and powerful. For the most part Rahbi used the big bowls. After some casual and very natural discussion about what the first song might be, they began.

I sat cross-legged on the floor watching them. Peter was in his element. His face was unlined as he breathed music into his flute, eyes closed, feeling the sound. He told me later that this music represents who he really is, how he is at home with his wife and his grandchildren. While he is a “rock n roll god” (my words, not his) in his local, commercial musical endeavors this is who he's matured into. This music is what is important. He spoke excitedly about his musical union with Rahbi, about how she is willing to travel with him to spread their music. He spoke of his gratitude to The Center for allowing him to come and share his music.

Rahbi is probably in her mid-50s and has short, dark hair, and glasses. Tall, slender and strong she wore a long nehru-collared tunic and dark pants. She knelt amongst her bowls, gracefully turning on her knees or twisting her body to reach the next note. She worked the bowls with little, rubber-headed mallots, sometimes flicking her wrist for a gentle “gooong” other times running the mallot-heads around the rim to sustain the note.

This was not music I could observe; it was music I had to feel. I unfolded the blanket I was sitting on and lay down. Closing my eyes I let the music wash over my body. Tendrils of flute flickered through my brain in soft ululations and gentle whistle-whispers. Ripples of bowl lapped at my consciousness as I drifted in the space between notes. At the end of that first song there was nary a rustle as the sound of the last note hovered in the air, slowly dissipating. Peter opened his eyes, signaling it was over and the room burst into applause. I looked around and saw another woman lying on the floor and smiled. I felt sorry for the other 47 people bound to their chairs.

The music continued for 3 hours. Between songs I would lever up, grab my little black reporter's book and scribble a note: “The Dreaming Tree.” “Egyptian Kawala flute, late 19^th century.” “Animal sounds.” “A storm.” “Almost like playing 2 flutes at the same time.” “Haunting-happy.” “Nature epitomized.” “Skillful use of the microphone.” “Using his breath as music.” “Crown chakra.” “Heart chakra, Japanese flute, 1920s.” “Native American flute.” “Bindu chakra.” But as I left The Center I knew there was no way I would be able to piece my little words into a written description of the music from Saturday night. Because this isn't music you hear, it's music you experience.  It left me feeling energized and rejuvenated.

Peter's new CD, “Sacred Spaces” was just released and can be ordered here. Rahbi joins Peter on this recording. If this is your way, if this is your music, you have to get the CD and enter in to this music with them. You should also check out The Center. You just might find yourself.

To read more about Peter Phippen as Rock n Roll god, click here and here.

AcoustiHoo

 

The polar vortex lifted on Thursday and by Friday the night air was positively balmy. A whole raft of cabin-fevered sub-zero refugees eschewed the snow and hit From TheVine to see AcoustiHoo. We were amply rewarded.

AcoustiHoo is a 4-piece ensemble and I've written about each of its members at least once. And I will probably write about each of its members again. And again. And again. Full self disclosure: I've got a huge bias toward this band. I'm a fan. I also have a social relationship with some of the band-members. In my defense, the relationships developed because of their music, not vice versa. I don't know if this lends credibility to the blog, but I doubt anyone who hit From The Vine for AcoustiHoo would disagree with my assessment of the band.

The band members include Sue Orfield on tenor sax, Randy Sinz on upright bass, Olaf Lind on violin, and Lucas Fischer on guitar. Superlatives will be added later.

They shook off the residual vortex-chill with “Sweet Georgia Brown,” a lively country-Hee-Haw-like jig that set Olaf's violin-strings a-smokin'. They followed up with “2:15,” a Sue Orfield original which started out with a lovely violin solo. The intertwining of the sax and violin caused my chest to swell with inchoate nostalgia—a longing to return to a place I'd never been. The next song was “Kansas City” featuring Luke, who kicked the number off with a down-low-and-dirty blues intro. You haven't really heard this classic song until you've experienced Luke's version. Olaf's violin enhances it with a Kentucky-Mountain-Justified feel. Next up was “Az Du Furst Avek,” a traditional Klezmer tune in which Luke's solo evoked the feel of old-world gypsy music.

Are you getting it? Klezmer. Classic blues. 1920-era pop-songs. Originals. And that was just the first four songs. Next Sue called for “My Heart Belongs To Daddy.” They have a set list, but Sue once confided that she's not very good at sticking to it. Consequently there was a tiny pause, during which she said, “You'll pick it up.” And they did. She blew Cole Porter's song like the May West-sultry, old-time jazzy tune it was meant to be. If her soul had a mirror, it would be the music coming out of her saxophone. Luke cooled us down with one of his originals, “Close,” a slow, sweet love-ballad and Olaf and Sue harmonized on “Ashoken Farewell” a Jay Ungar tune that left me remembering a childhood I'd never had.

Randy, all dapper behind his bass in a black beret, called the next song: “Fever.” I love, love, love the way Randy sings this song. It's new to their repertoire and there's no question that it's a love song between him and Sue. In the song he sings, “My heart burns for Sue,” and Sue's saxophone lets us know her heart burns for Randy.

Looking around From The Vine over the break I saw that it was standing room only. The establishment is owned and operated by Kathy Nuenke and has been open about 2 and a half years. It's long and open, and the lighting is perfect—low, without being dim. There's a bar running down one side and two- and four- top tables. The musicians are set up the middle of the place, in a living-room-style set- up with couches and deep, comfortable chairs. Behind the musicians is a half-wall and there's a darker, more secluded area in the back. It's a great place for music: avid fans can sit comfortably in a front row seat, music fans who prefer to socialize can sit at the tables in the bar area and lovers can cuddle in a dark corner. The service is fabulous; attentive without being overly friendly. They know you're here to see music or appreciate their wine or catch up with your friends, not to make new best friends with the staff. As soon as you come in you get a glass of water and it's easy to find a waitress when needed. They stock over 80 different wines and Kathy is always changing her stock. She offers wines by flight (I didn't know what this was and had to google it: tastings of multiple wines, which allow tasters to get a feel for breadth or depth of the selection), monthly wine tastings and wine and painting classes. I don't drink so I try to support local music venues by ordering food. I thought this would be a challenge in a wine room and was tickled to see From The Vine offers Legacy Chocolate truffles. They've also added snack mixes and a cheese-and-crackers plate. I spoke to Kathy, briefly, and while I can count the number of times I've been there on both hands, she remembered me. This wine room is a solid music venue and offers great service with great music.

AcoustiHoo's second set offered a couple of pleasant surprises. After Luke's cover of Tom Waits' “Make It Rain,” Sue called Gregg Wheeler with his harmonica to the stage to accompany the band on one of Randy's originals, “Desert Blue.” Randy's voice-as-instrument is wonderful and Gregg's harmonica was about as smooth as it gets. Gregg stayed on stage for another of Sue's originals and there was some fun call-and-response between his harp and Sue's sax. Olaf put down his violin in favor of the mandolin. After Gregg sat down the band launched into another Sue Orfield original, “Can't Shake The Sadness,” all forlorn and noble, with a classic violin-solo and delicate harmonic interplay between Luke and Olaf. Sue stood back, listening, an appreciative smile on her face. Olaf then performed his original “Caravans,” a lively tune with an old-world feel. I understand they're working on a music video for this song. Luke performed another original, “5 AM Blues,” all smooth, romantic and slow rhythm & blues-y.

Then Catya, my very best friend in the whole world, was asked onto the stage where she performed one of her originals, “I Like It.” Though it was unrehearsed, there was an ease and enjoyment on that is only seen when really good musicians play together.

The next number was “Bouf Chonsko” a Macedonian folk song. I spelled it phonetically and know it's wrong. I call it “The Clapping Song.” It starts up slow and every time around they speed it up just a little bit until they're playing faster then we can clap. So fun. Another Sue original, “Cut From Terry's Cloth” was next. The final number was Luke's amazing version of Donovan's “Season Of The Witch.” Luke played his guitar like a mandolin, Olaf played his mandolin like a guitar and Randy tried to play his upright like a violin and did a great job of playing it like a guitar. Sue's saxophone tied the whole song together and as the last note died away the audience leapt up in a spontaneous standing ovation. It was a magical night that left us all wanting more. 

If you're reading this blog you must be a music fan. Believe me when I tell you that if you haven't seen AcoustiHoo you're missing out. Big time. Check them out—you can find their self-titled CD on their website,  look them up on Facebook or catch them live.  You won't be disappointed. Promise.

You can read more about Sue and Randy as Two Rivers here.

You can read more about Sue, Randy and Catya in Catya's Trio here.

You can read more about Gregg Wheeler in Stage Fright and Randy, John and Gregg here and here.

You can read more about Olaf and Luke in Eggplant Heroes here.

You can read more about Luke as a solo act here.

Crystal and the Commotion

 
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Saturday night I braved the cold and drove the 3 miles to the Red Zone to see Crystal and the Commotion. The Red Zone is owned by Randy Kuhnert and sits off old 53 in Hallie along the access road. The building used to house various failed Mexican restaurants and the barhas been open for about 4 years. The Red Zone is a party bar and during the summer you find it by following the glitter of chrome bouncing off the Harleys in the parking lot. Randy used to be my mechanic and I remember spotting him at various music events before he opened the bar. He wasn't watching the music, he was watching the audience. Unlike many area bars hosting live music, part of Randy's vision for the bar included bands. There was plenty of leather at The Red Zone on Saturday night, but it also appears to be a destination—or at least a stop-off point—for snowmobilers too.

The band's website describes them this way:

“Crystal and The Commotion is one of the hardest working, high energy groups in the state of Wisconsin. Featuring vocalist Crystal Dolivo. Peter Phippen, former Airkraft bassist and 2010 Grammy Nominated artist. Guitarist Scott Milz and Drummer Michael Hucek. From Street dances to Corporate events and Casinos to Clubs, you can expect great music from the 60's 70's 80's 90's and today.”

An apt description.

They kicked off the night with with a lively version of “Walking On Sunshine.” Peter and Scott stepped out from behind their microphones and walked into the audience with their cordless bass and electric guitar. Crystal's mic is also cordless and she made sure we knew that the whole bar would be her stage. Other songs in the first set included:Pat Benatar's “Hit Me With Your Best Shot,” Alanis Morrisette's “Hand In My Pocket,” Lambert's “Mama's Broken Heart,” Sugarland's “Stuck Like Glue,” Bob Seger's “Old Time Rock & Roll” Christina Aguilera's “Beautiful,” Cindy Lauper's “Girls Just Want To Have Fun,” Nancy Sinatra's “These Boots,” Lorde's “Royals and Poison's “Talk Dirty To Me.” Highlights of the first set were when Crystal totally hammed it up on “I Will Survive” and when she and Peter did a great version of June and Johnny's “Jackson.” But my favorite was when Scott Milz, the guitar player, sang the straightest version of “Sweet Caroline” I've heard in 20 years. No kidding, there wasn't even a whiff of irony and—oddly—it worked.

Crystal is a bundle of energy and demands audience participation. She wanders the bar, microphone in hand, singing directly to people and encourages them to sing refrains with her. Her eye-contact is frequent and direct and she doesn't miss a thing. She sees who's coming in, who's leaving, who's engaged and who isn't and she'll call out greetings between verses without missing a beat. She's a 5-foot, blond, bundle of energy as she dances, poses and postures. During her band mates' solos she wanders around, touching bases with the audience and Saturday night she hoola-hooped with a couple of her friends. She's just 22 years old, but she works the bar like a professional and she's got that 90s “girl band” voice.

Peter Phippen looks like he's having a great time playing rock-&-roll, bass player god. His face is set in a half-smile, half-sneer and he closes his eyes. In the second set he was smile-snarling with eyes closed and his mic got knocked over into the drum set. No one noticed (except me). Crystal was singing and turned to the drummer, Michael Hucek, and saw the mic. Peter was still jamming with his eyes shut. Crystal didn't blink and—still singing—righted it and turned the mic toward Peter, just in time for him to come in with his back up vocals. (You can read more about Peter here.)

Scott Milz is straight-faced and earnest. He's got a good, true voice and is a great guitarist. He watches Crystal closely, like he's not sure what she's going to do next, but he doesn't seem worried. He just wants to be on top of things.

The drummer, Michael “Slant” Hucek, sits behind his kit like a king, orchestrating it all with a satisfied look on his face. If he's irritated with Crystal's antics, he takes it in stride like an indulgent uncle.

Another highlight of Saturday night's show featured Scott and Michael. The band played Black Sabbath's “Paranoid” and the audience liked it so much that Scott and Michael did an impromptu version of “War Pigs.” They were in their element—not playing for the audience, but for themselves-and for a moment we were all transported back to 1970.

This is a working band. They're fast-paced, diving into the next song almost before the last note of the previous song has settled. There's no need to clap because there's no room for applause between numbers. They're about giving the audience and the person who hired them bang for the buck. Slick and professional, they advertise as a high energy band and they deliver.

Randy Sinz, John Lynch and Gregg Wheeler

 

Jean and Charlie live across the street and two houses down from me. They're my aunt and uncle. For years we've been “giving” each other live music as gifts. This Christmas their present was Randy Sinz, Gregg Wheeler and John Lynch. On Sunday I hopped into my little Beetle, putted down the street, picked up Jean and Charlie and we headed to Fanny Hill for dinner and music.

I've seen this trio three times, all at Fanny Hill. The first time was last summer, out on the deck and—if I remember correctly—it was a spur of the moment thing. Randy was asked to fill in for a last minute cancellation. He invited two old friends to play with him. I knew their music would appeal to Jean and Charlie and when I saw they were playing the weekend after Christmas I heaved a sigh of relief: Here were two presents I wouldn't have to cruise the mall for.

Fanny Hill is pretty formal. The room is elegant, with cloth-covered tables, candles, ornate winter-themed decorations and twinkly lights draped around windows that offer a bird's eye view of the river. The atmosphere is hushed and I feel like I need to don my best table manners. The music on Sunday night, on the other hand, was just the opposite. Relaxed and casual, these three men made us feel like we were all kicking back on a summer porch. Three old friends, comfortable with each other and the music and pleased to be sharing that music with their friends, the audience.

I've written about Randy Sinz before. He and his partner, Sue Orfield, are staples in the local music scene and we are darned blessed to have them. He plays with Rada Dada, TwoRivers, The Sue Orfield Band, Catya's Trio, Code Blue, AcoustiHoo, and Ranger Rudy and the Swingin' Wingtips. You can read about him here and I'll write more about Randy and his other bands in the future. He's known locally for his work on the electric and upright bass, but he's equally good on the guitar and has a fine voice.

Gregg Wheeler hit my music radar last year when he played during AcoustiHoo's CD release party at The Stone's Throw. He's an artist on the harmonica and he totally blew me away. Jean and Charlie were at that gig too and after Gregg left the stage Charlie told Gregg that he'd always wanted to play the harmonica. I'll be darned if Gregg didn't reach into his front shirt pocket, pull out his harp and give it to Charlie. Charlie was delighted and while he hasn't started blowing, he insists he will learn when he retires. Earlier this winter Gregg and Aunt Jean ran into each other at a funeral and discovered they had family and friends in common. Gregg arranged to play at the assisted living home where Jean's mother lives. Since then, Gregg has been emotionally-adopted into my family's music-favorites. He also plays guitar and sings. Gregg has a relatively low music-profile, but this will be the third time I've mentioned him in my blogs. You can read more about Gregg here and here.

I'm not as familiar with John Lynch. Back in the day he played with The Better Half. He also plays with Ranger Rudy and the Swingin' Wingtips. He used to play with The Memories, but said he stopped in 1988. He was married with a new child and he decided to leave the road. The Memories are still together and still gigging. John plays the guitar and writes and he offered a sample of some of his originals at Fanny Hill on Sunday night.

There is no consolidated set list. They take turns calling the next song, working in rounds and for the most part, the guy calling the song also sings it. Most of the songs are familiar to all three, but it's not unusual for one of the guys to bring a song that they haven't played together. John started it off with Charlie Pride's “Is Anybody Going To San Antone.” John and Randy played acoustic guitar and Gregg alternated between his electric guitar and harmonica. Gregg commandeered a tray stand and had his aluminum harmonica case open in front of him and throughout the night he seamlessly switched between instruments. He followed the Pride song with Merle Haggard's “That's The Way Love Goes,” and Randy picked up his fretless acoustic/electric bass and countered with a rousing version of Hank Williams' “Jambalaya.” John chose a hilarious song by David Tanner titled, “Effingham:”

“She's gone to Effingham yeah she took the Effing kids
and hit the Effing road
in her Effing mini van
and now I'm sitting here alone
and I don't Effing understand
why my baby's Effing gone to Effingham”

This song brought out a bout of silliness from Randy and John and while Gregg tried to bring it back with George Jones' “Tall Tall Trees,” Randy acted drunk and sang a parody of “Green Green Grass Of Home” and John answered with his parody, “Blue Hairs Driving In My Lane.”

Part of the fun of this trio is the twinkle in John's eye when he's being outrageous. He's a wonderful songwriter, too, and he sampled some of his originals Sunday night. “Outkicked Your Coverage” is a lively song he wrote offering fatherly advise after meeting his son's girlfriend:

“You've outkicked your coverage

You're way over your head

That little filly you've been seeing is a full-grown thoroughbred

You've outkicked your coverage

Don't take it personally

On a scale of 1 to 10, she's about a 23.”

The song “Bad Day Of Fishing” is a sweet song, written about his father after he retired:

“Tells the fish 'this is your lucky day'

Then tosses it back to swim away

When he goes home at the end of the day

He'll dream about the one that got away

A bad day of fishing still beats

A good day at work.”

“They're Bailing Out Wallstreet” sounds a protest to today's politics:

“They're bailing out wallstreet

What about mainstreet

Don't forget about the man with the calluses on his hands

He's trying to make ends meet

Ain't living on Easy Street

It's time to take a stand and be the conscience of this land.”

And then there's the “Cookies” song: “Homemade cookies sure make the coffee taste better!” I gotta tell you, this man sure likes cookies.

Randy sang “Crazy Arms” for Charlie, “Ain't No Sunshine” for Jean and “Unchain My Heart” (now known as “The Bag Of Beans Song”) for me. He also sang Santana's “Evil Ways,” Gary Stewart's “Empty Glass” and a song his father, Jerry Sinz also a musician in the band, The Dairyland Ranch Hands, sang called “Candy Kisses.”

Other songs included George Strait's “Amarillo By Morning,” The Casino's “Then You Can Tell Me Good-Bye,” Buck Owens' “Santa Looked A Lot Like Daddy,” and Mark Chesnutt's “Rolling With The Flow,” and “Wagon Wheel” all sung by Gregg. During Marvin Rainwater's “Gotta Find Me A Bluebird” Gregg got the audience whistling. He also did one of his standards—and my favorite—Marty Robbins' “Devil Woman.” I love watching Gregg. He feels the lyrics. I admitted later on that I kind of crush on him when he sings and plays the harmonica. There's such earnestness and feeling.

The three musicians met in high school and have been playing with each other, off and on, since then. Their level of comfort, their communal approach, and laid-back style works wonderfully and brings us back to a simpler time. Over one of the breaks John Lynch said, “Some people load up their golf clubs in the car, we load up our instruments. I'm just thankful that places like Fanny Hill let us come out and do this.” They will be playing every other month at Fanny Hill and I can't imagine a more pleasant way to wile away a cold, winter Sunday evening.

Finally, I offer a nod to another Chippewa Valley Music blog, Freaks and Geeks.  The Dairyland Ranch Hands link goes to his site.

JFT Party Band

--> Volume One calls My Place “The Chippewa Valley's roughest bar,” and that's where I headed Friday night. I get why it has that reputation in Eau Claire, but Volume One wasn't shadowing me when I was younger. The cops didn't cruise through the bar, not even once. There were no fist fights. There were no cat fights. No one grabbed my ass or my breasts. The bathroom was small and clean and no one tried to bust in as I sat on the can. The only come-on I got was a couple of come-hither winks from a sweet, 60-something guy with no teeth who was having a hard time keeping his balance on the barstool. And the only person I saw doing a table dance was John Nielson playing his guitar.

If you're the kind of musician who likes to maintain physical separation from the audience, don't gig at My Place.

If you're the kind of guitar player who looses the rhythm when enthusiastic women try to hug you in the middle of your solo, don't gig at My Place.

If you're the kind of mandolin player who's gonna act all scared about the equipment when drunk women try to grab the microphone, don't gig at My Place.

If you're the kind of bass player who cowers when 6 foot, 3 inch-tall, long-haired 60's throwbacks yell good naturedly-- “How about some fuckin' Whitesnake!” don't gig at My Place.

If you're the kind of drummer who can't keep the beat when gals climb through the maze of equipment and sit on your lap, don't gig at My Place.

All this and more happened Friday night. The JFT Party Band is exactly the kind of band to gig at MyPlace. And, good god, was it fun. I went to write about the band and realized there was no way I could separate the band from the My Place experience. I doubt I'm going to give either of them their fair due, but I'll try. First let me introduce the band.

I remember when JFT was first starting out. It was a Karoke band. They'd pass out lists of their songs and encourage people to get on stage and sing with them. “JFT” stood for John (Nielsen—rhythm acoustic guitar), Frank (Aragona—lead electric guitar) and Tony (Campbell—electric bass). John was a new guitar player and he told me last night that he'd been singing Karoke and someone put a guitar in his hands.

Today Dave Schoenrock is on bass and back up vocals and he also plays with The Pheromones.

Frank Aragona is on lead electric guitar and vocals. I wrote about him way back in 2009 when he was in The Electric Range.

Caleb Horne plays the mandolin (and occasionally acoustic guitar—and just about every other stringed instrument ever made) and also gigs with Eggplant Heroes and TheSand Burgers.

Bill Cooney works the drums in both this band and FM Down.

John Nielsen is the front man and also plays the cordless acoustic 12-string guitar (the cordless part is important). It's John who's responsible for the over-all feel of this band. He lights up when the music starts; this is his juice—his elixir—and he savors every moment.

If someone put a gun to my head and told me to find one word to describe this band it would be: high-spirited, good-natured and energizing. (Yeah, yeah, that's more than one word, but I'm the one writing, so I get to do that. And besides, the gun thing was rhetorical.) These guys are exactly as billed: a party band. And they have so much fun!

They warmed up the audience with a rousing rendition of “Sympathy For The Devil” sung by Frank Aragona. Frank was in a red plaid fedora, red-tinged sunglasses, tight black tee-shirt and black skinny jeans. Ordinarily he seems quiet and diffident, but put him in front of a microphone and he morphs into Rock-N-Roll-Guitar-God. No shit. He wails and postures and riffs and kicks. And he sings to—sometimes acts out—the lyrics. So he's singing and John Nielsen gets the strobes and the smoke machine going and we've got rock-n-roll paradise by the dashboard lights.

The next song was “Copperhead Road” sung by John Nielsen. It was about 9:30 and most of the audience wasn't quite lubricated enough, while others were heading toward over-served. The band was bopping and grinning, all kinetic energy, but it didn't really get rolling until the third song, “Brown-Eyed Girl.” And here's the thing, by the third song this band owned the audience. I've seen more seasoned bands who don't get the audience up and on its feet until the second set.

Dancing is a challenge at My Place. There's really no delineation between the “stage” (Stage? What stage?) and the dance floor, which is also the main thoroughfare through the bar, with music on one side and barstools on the other. There's about 4 feet between the bar stools and the instruments. But this didn't stop anyone, including the musicians, who frequently left their area to join the dancers, instruments in hand. This is music up-close and personal with no boundaries between musicians and fans. This band loves the audience and I believe it was that undisguised appreciation for the audience that kept the ambience safe and fun. I didn't see one flinch, one eye-roll, one superior look, or one knee-jerk recoil.

The crazier the atmosphere, the tighter the band got. Their second set was musically the best as they leaned into the insanity. They played Pink Floyd's “Wish You Were Here” with a guitar-god solo from Frank. They then launched into “I'm A Believer” and Steve Bateman from The Sand Burgers joined the stage with his harmonica. You can catch Steve at a lot of live local gigs—he's always being called to the stage by other musicians. Other songs included Petty's “Mary Jane's Last Dance,” “Sweet Caroline,” “Good Hearted Woman,” “I Fight Authority,” “Can't You See,” “Too Hard To Handle” and “Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown.”

They loved the blond gal, all sequins and studded belt who repeatedly hoisted and rearranged her considerable bosom, as she leaned over and sang into Dave's mic. John gave her a tambourine and grinned appreciatively as she sang to “Can't You See.” She didn't even need the mic.

There was a lanky, gamboling Native American kid with long, inky-black hair and celestial smile—all coy grace and peyote-toes. He air-danced his fingers along Frank's shoulder and arm then up the neck of his guitar and Frank turned into the boy, letting those fingers flick the air around him and his instrument.

There was a tall, blond, long-haired hippie-man with holed jeans and a scary-jubilant dance-style. When he got too enthusiastic he, too, got handed the tambourine and was encouraged to enter in, settling him down and letting him do what he really wanted, which was enter into the music.

And then there was the drummer girl. She walked in and immediately started dancing and fan-flirting with the band. Next thing we knew, she wended her way through mic stands and electric cords and speakers and sat on Bill Cooney's lap. He didn't blink. I assumed they knew each other, but found out later he'd never met her before. He put his arm around her, she rested her head on his shoulder, and he played one-handed for a while, then handed her a drumstick. Priceless.

John Nielsen climbed up on a (heavy and very sturdy) table, dancing and singing, then bounded outside and played his guitar on the sidewalk. Frank wandered into audience territory and played his guitar over his head and behind his back, Dave bee-bopped and he too wandered into the audience to meet Caleb and John in a triangular jam. Steve played some dynamic rock-n-roll harmonica and Caleb some rock-n-roll mandolin. Bill laid back on his drums, a small smile on his face, eyes all aware and appreciative.

In the third set they invited others up to the stage, including my friend, John LeBrun, drummer for David Jones and the Jones Tones ( read about The Jones Tones here) and Code Blue, Cayta's 5-piece blues band (read more about Catya here). He's also played with Larry Past, G String Theory and Layne Yost's bands. John is never happier than when behind a drum set but he told me later that he was a little nervous because Bill Cooney is so good. He had no reason to be nervous—he was great. Bill sat next to me as John played a couple of songs including “Honkey Tonk Woman” that John Nielsen totally hammed up on vocals and Steve Bateman nailed on the harmonica. They also played “Cover Of The Rolling Stone,” “You Really Got Me,” “Any Way You Want It” and “Long Haired County Boy.” They invited a gal named Judy onto the stage and she sang “Purple Rain” and “Bad Moon Rising.” She had a great time and the band was engaged and gracious. John said later, “It's so fun to play with such great musicians. I can just kick back and enjoy it.” He claimed he's not a natural musician, but I say he's a natural-born performer. They ended the night with Led Zeppelin's “Whole Lotta Love.” Perfect.

I've been in My Place before and last night someone told me, “There's always an edge, an underlying promise of violence at that place.” I get it, but it wasn't there Friday night. Music, charms and soothing the savage-ness. That's what The JFT Party Band did on Friday night.

Mojo Lemon

--> Monday was Mojo Night. The ChippewaValley Blues Society met at Pizza Plus Monday night for a quarterly meeting and hired one of the Chippewa Valley's most accomplished blues bands to play after the meeting: a Christmas gift from CVBS to the public.

I first caught Mojo Lemon in 2008 at The Snout Saloon in Chippewa Falls. I was still testing the live- music-waters. For many going out to see live music is a social event, a reason to gather with friends, catch up, firm up new social connections and nurse old ones. And I get that.  But it's not why I go to live music events. I go for the music. Period. And because of this I typically go alone.

I don't want to try and hold a conversation—the music's too loud. I don't want to do the whole collectivist, “Are you having a good time? Do you want to leave?” thing. Don't expect me to get into a conversation about work, or kids, or politics, or Neil Degrasse Tyson, or relationships. We can do that while eating, taking a walk, grabbing a cup of coffee or just hanging out. But not during live music.

I don't mind going to live music with like-minded people. We might occasionally look at each other and say, “That was a rocking drum solo!” or “Oh no! He broke a string.” or “Gwad, that brought tears to my eyes!” Or perhaps we can dance. Dancing is good.

So in 2008 I was at The Snout because I'd heard this was a good band.  I was still self-conscious about being a single, sober woman, going out to the bars alone. Have you been to The Snout? It's one of Chippewa Falls' best dive bars. It's got that edge. That vague promise of out-of-control-ness. That interesting mix of citizens and street denizens. My kind of bar. To my knowledge The Snout is perfectly safe, but still. 

So I'm alone, a bit self conscious and then there's Mojo. Some might find it unremarkable to walk into a dive bar and discover superior music, but it was a shock to me. Mojo Lemon consists of three core musicians:

Josh Entzminger plays guitar and sings

Will Chopper works the keys and sings,

Terry Demars jams on bass and vocals

That night at The Snout Big Jay Introwitz was on drums. Jason (Jay) is fun to watch. He floats behind the drumset—all Zen-like—and appears to channel his muse from the collective aether. And he's got a great voice. On Monday night Dave Schrader held the drumsticks. Dave is totally present. He plays in various other local bands including Rada Dada, Dixie And The Dreamers, and The Sue Orfield Band.

My first impression of Mojo Lemon in 2008 was that they were too good. I kid you not. It was obvious that they were superb musicians and it felt like each member was in his own music-bubble. I've written that I believe each band is like a living organism with the individuals interacting to create a bigger whole. And, for me, part of that whole—that synergy—involves offering a glimpse into each member's personality. Way back in 2008 Will Chopper bobbed behind the keyboard, Jason Introwitz floated behind the drums, Terry Demars jammed behind his bass and Josh Entzminger let loose behind his guitar. All skillful, all talented and, except for some playful back-and-forth between Josh and Will, there was little interaction with each other or with the audience. The coolest thing about following bands is watching them grow.

On Monday night at Pizza Plus,  Mojo Lemon owned the stage and the audience. Pizza Plus mounted a backdrop of red covering the windows and added a sparkly-white Christmas tree. Josh's guitar was red. They played a two hour gig and were polished, accomplished, tight, fun and interactive. They rocked—or is it bluzed?

I was having a great time dancing and can't offer a complete set list, but here are some highlights:

They kicked off the night with Luther Allison's “It's A Blues Thing.” The perfect song to get the house warmed up and bouncing in their seats. The second number was a jump blues number, first recorded in 1945 titled “Caldonia” featuring Josh on guitar. They played Muddy Waters and Freddy King's “Woman Across the Water” which features cool, complex tempo-and-beat change-ups. Josh sang a very convincing Elmore James song, “The Sky Is Crying” and Dave started the next song with a rolling drum solo. I'm not sure what that song was (I was dancing) but it morphed into a verse of “Big Boss Man” and out again. Josh sang BB King's “You Upset Me,” Terry sang what I think was Blind Lemon's “See That My Grave Is Kept Clean” and “Seventh Son.” Will's keyboards offered a perfect bridge between R&B and the blues and he sang one of my favorites, Barbara George's “I Know You Don't Love Me No More.” The final song was an amazing rendition of Jimi Hendrix's “Voodoo Child.” The music was really, really loud (I bring earplugs—a live-music necessity), but the sound was sharp and clear.

In 2008 I couldn't imagine Mojo Lemon getting better, but they have.

Terry Demars' voice is bluesy-rough with a touch of street that gives his songs of loss and masculine sorrow an authentic edge. Today it's stronger and true and has grown into an instrument all of its own. And his stance behind the microphone is bigger. He owns his lyrics. The only way I really know music—good or bad—is intuitively, but it feels like Terry's bass playing is surer, more confident, and Monday night I saw him kicking back and really enjoying his band-mates' performances. Terry now looks and feels like a quintessential blues-man.

Dave Schrader didn't miss a beat and there's no question why he's in demand. I think drummers are the unsung heros of the music-world. They are essential—the musical foundation—and their job is paradoxical: when they play well they fade into the background, allowing the other musicians to shine in the spotlight. When they don't do well, the whole thing is screwed. Dave was excellent.

Will Chopper is a consummate performer. His enjoyment is obvious as his notes intertwine with the other instruments, giving this band a unique sound. He be-bops and grins as he plays and sometimes I think that if he could take his keyboards out into the audience and dance he would. Some of the most fun moments in their show is when he and Josh trade riffs—a lively and boisterous musical conversation.

And there's Josh. His guitar playing is physical. It looks like he is literally pulling the music out with his feet—stealing from some elemental place at the earth's core—pushing it through his body and out through his fingers and into the guitar. He's an amazing talent. 

This band really showed off their skillful versatility in “Voodoo Child.” It was mostly instrumental and Will and Josh took us through a history of great rock and roll styles. Will's organ reminded us of Emerson Lake and Palmer, and the Josh went into a Clapton-like riff. And of course Josh's pristine and muscular guitar totally channeled Mr. Hendrix himself.

Mojo Lemon will be playing at The Snout this Saturday (12/21/13). If your a blues fan—or just enjoy good music—and you haven't caught them, you gotta go. If you have caught them I know you'll want to see them again. You can see their gig schedule here.

Chippewa Valley Jazz Orchestra's Swinging Into The Holidays

--> On Friday morning I got a Facebook email from a friend: “CV Jazz Orchestra show tonight at the State. 7:30. Good bunch, tons of talent, enjoyable show. You might get a kick out of it and find an article.” My plans for the evening were still up in the air. Billy Krause was at the Local Store, G-String Theory with Noel Hanson was at the House of Rock, and Two Frets Up were playing in Mondovi. CVJO's gig was on my radar—a dim, vague blip—but I tend toward the more informal venues (that's a highfaluting of saying I like bars) and don't really consider myself a Jazz Girl. But I also like mixing it up. And the realization that I wouldn't typically go to the event if I didn't have this blog propelled me out to The State Theater to see “The Chippewa Valley Jazz Orchestra Presents Swinging Into The Holidays.” I'm so glad I did.

CVJO was conceived in 2009 when a bunch of musicians were hanging out at the Joynt, talking. Geoff Peterson (drums) told me, “We wanted to play the music we love in a venue where people wanted to hear us.” He added that the core group consist of Josh Gallagher (piano), Jeff Reitz (alto sax, clarinet, bass sax and flute), Jayson Collins (alto sax), Sue Orfield (tenor sax), and Jeff Walk (trumpet). Today CVJO is eighteen musicians strong. Its members' ages range from age 18 to 60+. Some are college students, others are teachers and business-owners and they all love their music.

This is their second Christmas season at The State Theater and this year they changed things up and added AdrianKlenz as their Master Of Ceremonies. Barry Hitt (who, by the way, is so goofy he's hip) agreed that they needed a front man so he could concentrate on just being the musical director. I don't know how the show felt without an official Master Of Ceremonies, but having Adrian up there gave Swinging Into The Holidays a variety show-feel. Sort of like the holiday TV specials I used to watch as a child.

There were 13 musicians on stage. Front and center-right was a three-tiered horn section. On the top, back row were 5 trumpets: Jeff Walk; Sean Hanson; Kris Bergh; and Rich Morgan of Morgan Music. 5 trombones graced the middle tier: Tom Carlson; Doug Shoemaker; Bill Halgren; and Eric Olson. The saxophones were on the ground floor: Max Palzewicz; Sue Orfield; Theresa Soules; Jay Collins; and Jeff Reitz, "instrument guy" at Schmitt Music. Back and to the right of the horns was Geoff Peterson on drums and slightly in front of the drums, next to the horns was Emily Watkins on guitar. On the other side of the drum kit was Eric Thompson with his upright bass and bookending the ensemble was Josh Gallagher on the grand piano.

Most of the musicians sported some kind of holiday attire. Some wore Santa hats and others wore “ugly sweaters,” bow ties and Christmas ties. Some of the horns had red or green muters, and one of the trombones (I think it was Doug Shoemaker's) was green and was decorated with a rim of tinsel. Adrian was front and to the left and he also sang, accompanied in some of the songs by Cathy Reitz.

Adrian was handsome in black suit coat and a red tie and he kicked off the show with “Sleigh Ride.” The next song was “Mr Grinch” and in the middle of the song Jeff Reitz put down his horn, grabbed his bag and left the stage, all Grinch-like. After the piano solo he reentered wearing a bright red hunting cap and blowing his bass sax. If you've never seen a bass sax believe me when I tell you that this is one big-ass horn. Jeff was very Grinchy and this song set a happy, playful mood that persisted through the show. And then there was Barry Hitt.

Barry was introduced after “Grinch” and he was filled with the Miles-Davis-Christmas Spirit. He entered in red pants, a Santa hat, a tinsel-boa necklace and a psychedelic green and red dashiki with a big snow-flake-like design on the back. As the director, he had his back to the audience for most of the performance—dashiki snow-flake prominently displayed—and he kept time with a cute little butt-swing. He was a total dork and totally cool.

The next song was “O Holy Night” and Jeff Walk wailed big-time on his trumpet. Adrian was joined on stage by Cathy Rietz (she's married to The Grinch) and they did a fun, hammy version of “Baby It's Cold Outside.” Cathy has a great voice and obviously loves singing. The trombones took the lead on “God Rest Ye Merry Trombones” and Adrian sang “The Christmas Song” followed by Andrew Neesley's version of “Winter Wonderland” which featured a solo by what looked to be the youngest member on trumpet. He nailed it. The first set ended with a lovely rendition of “Adeste Fidelis” and featured some rocking improv solos by Sue Orfield and Jeff Reitz on saxes and Josh Gallagher on piano. All the other musicians seemed to enjoy listening to the solos as much as the audience.

Cathy kicked off the second half of the show, singing a big-band-jazzy-style medley of “Here Comes Santa Claus” and “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town.” Her energy and joy revived us after the intermission. Tom Carlson brought his trombone front and center and led us through “Christmas Time Is Here.” This was followed by Auld Lang Syne, which started out traditionally then bumped up to a swinging song. Cathy returned to the stage and sang “I've Got My Love To Keep Me Warm” and Eric Olson's bass trombone blew us away with a fun, playful version of “Jingle Bells.” The show started its wind-down with Adrian singing a soulful version of “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.”

The last song was an instrumental, “Yo! Tannenbaum,” (punctuation added by yours truly) which started slow, all wobbly horns, then snapped into a jazzy, raucous, fun finale. One of the things I liked about this show, these musicians, was the combination of professionalism and comfort. They were laid-back, relaxed, having fun doing the thing they like to do best. I'd never seen a jazz orchestra in action and last night blew up my preconceptions of a removed and stuffy event for cultural snobs. I'm sold.

The State Theater seats 1,098. 152 people showed up for this year's show, down from 160 last year—which is understandable considering the North Pole-like weather we're having. But here's the thing: This was a great show and it deserved a bigger audience. This brings me back to my oft-repeated plaint that we just don't get the hidden wealth of the Chippewa Valley. In an era of “fiscal responsibility” that chips away funding for the arts, we have passionate, talented musicians whose only desire is to be heard and appreciated. The Chippewa Valley Jazz Orchestra's next gig is February 15^th at The State Theater and it will feature Luis Bonilla, Charles Mingus' lead trombone player, along with a variety of high school students. How cool is that? If I had a honey, I'd demand he take me to this for Valentine's Day and I'll probably go anyway, honey or not. You should too. 

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Again,  Freaks and Geeks' burgeoning Music Wiki was helpful with this blog.