On Saturday, I drove down to Lexington, KY with my oldest kid Gabriel to see an outdoor show at The Burl. (Great place to see a show, btw.)
It was a co-headlining tour, Maggie Rose and Molly Tuttle. I’d just seen Molly Tuttle a few weeks prior. And yes, I’ve been known to double down on artists I enjoy seeing. (Looking at you, Gladie.) But the real reason for the road trip was the guitarist for Maggie Rose’s band. MP Gannon. The dude’s an amazing guitar player.
And he has a fantastic, soulful voice to boot.
And I’d say that even if he weren’t my first cousin once removed.
But he IS my first cousin once removed, and that makes it even cooler! (I know him better as Michael Patrick.)
This doesn’t exactly qualify as a news bulletin, but I love music. And seeing my cousin’s kid up on stage, in front of a rapt audience, doing his thing… goosebumps the entire time! (I can only imagine how my cousin Patty and her husband Paul feel when they see their son on stage.)
In her set, Maggie performed a cover of “I Can’t Make You Love Me” — a ballad made famous by Bonnie Raitt*. If you’re gonna do that classic (or any Bonnie Raitt song, really), you’d better have the voice to back it up.
And Maggie does, in spades.
*that song was co-written by former Cincinnati Bengal defensive tackle Mike Reid, a two-time Pro Bowler whose songwriting career has far eclipsed his gridiron greatness.
Maggie recorded a duet version of “I Can’t Make You Love Me” song with Vince Gill. Which means MP has some pretty big shoes to fill in concert. TBH, I prefer his voice to Vince’s. And I’m not just saying that because he’s my first cousin once removed. (But, as previously established, he IS!)
Speaking o’ big shoes to fill, for Molly Tuttle’s encore, Maggie Rose and MP joined Molly’s band for rousing renditions of “She’s a Rainbow” by the Rolling Stones and “Up on Cripple Creek” by The Band. MP sang a verse of the latter – meaning he was channeling Levon Helm… merely my favorite member of one of my favorite bands. (Because Levon, the only non-Canadian member of The Band, was from my old stomping grounds of Arkansas.)
MP is based in Nashville. And as the Lovin’ Spoonful famously told us in their song “Nashville Cats”:
Well, there’s thirteen hundred and fifty two Guitar pickers in Nashville And they can pick more notes than the number of ants On a Tennessee ant hill
To snag a gig as a touring “guitar picker” is a big hill to climb. To become an integral part of Maggie Rose’s band in just a year with them is a testament to his talent, and his dedication to the craft.
A rockin’ house concert, for our family and 25 other folks – some of whom were friends, but most of whom were just friendly strangers.
That’s Jason Narducy playing to the crowd. He releases music as Split Single. He’s also the touring bassist for Superchunk, one of my favorite bands. Also bassist in the Bob Mould band (Bob’s another fave). And Jason teamed up with actor Michael Shannon to organize the R.E.M. tribute supergroup that I posted about a couple of months ago. Oh, and he wrote a book filled with some fun stories from his life on the road as a musician.
When he’s not touring as a “band guy” he does solo house concerts.
It’s not a glamorous existence, cramming all your gear into a rental car (in Jason’s case, a rental car with the “lane assist” function that he can’t figure out how to turn off) and driving hours upon hours to get to the next stop. And when you get there, setting up all that gear, hoping the host is a decent human being, and that your voice isn’t shot, and that the crowd isn’t dead.
It’s also not a lucrative endeavor. On a good night, you move the people with your music, and you move some merchandise too. Enough to pay the bills, and may put a few bills in your pocket.
From my biased perspective, I think last night was a great night. Jason’s a gifted musician, and a natural storyteller. And he’s a heck of a nice guy. As much as I love hearing music in an intimate setting, I probably enjoy the dead time before the show just as much. It was just Jason and I, hanging out in our kitchen. I won’t delude myself that we’re now besties. But it was good to get to know a bit more about him as a person, not just a performer.
Live music is my thing, but every house concert is a family affair. Peter helped me rearrange the furniture. Tina cleaned after my “cleaning” efforts fell short. Gabriel grabbed the pizza for Jason’s pre-show meal. Leah and Andrew kept the dogs upstairs when guests started arriving.
The show was stellar – mostly originals, with a few tasty covers (The Kinks, Superchunk, R.E.M… on mandolin!) in the mix. Great stories in-between.
We live on Wilaray Terrace and Jason jokingly called it “Wilaray Arena.” I love that. As long as I’m living, our living room will be open for business as Wilaray Arena. Because I’ll take a rockin’ living room over arena rock 100% of the time. Or in Jason’s case “95 Percent.”
Better late than never, I suppose. Good thing I didn’t have “stop procrastinating” on my resolution list.
Although this great article from The Guardian that was published… well, the start of the year… is also giving all of us permission to ease off the self-improvement resolutions.
The intro paragraph from Oliver Burkeman’s piece sums up the concept quite nicely:
The older I get, the more “finite hours on the planet” really resonates. But no matter our age, all of us have limited spins on the big blue marble. And rather than putting off the things we like until a “someday” that may never come, why not do more of them today?
It’s waaay too easy to get caught up in the “I’ve got to be better at _____” cycle. It’s much tougher to give yourself permission to indulge in stuff you enjoy. But it’s not indulging, it’s nourishing your heart and soul.
The concepts of “keep grinding” and “hustle” have been elevated to virtue status.
But if you’re always grinding and never savoring, what’s the point?
That sort of heartless profiteering from the prediction markets (namely Kalshi and Polymarket) has continued pretty much unabated. Those companies have become unregulated casinos in our pockets, with scary consequence. So much so that John Oliver devoted an episode of his Last Week Tonight show to it a couple of weeks ago. Here’s a four-minute clip from it:
What Oliver says at the end is especially poignant:
If you’re considering using these markets to gamble, try and remember that you’re statistically likely to lose money. And while I’m not against gambling per se, there’s something so grim about these sites turning every aspect of our lives into a bet. Because sure, money can be won on them. But in that happening, something also gets lost. Specifically a society where things aren’t only weighed in financial terms, and where people engage in news for what it means to human beings – not just because they have $50 riding on it.
And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Scott Galloway’s post from last November about the prediction markets. He’s the one who put this emerging issue on my radar. His post is titled “The Next Opioid Crisis” – which may seem like hyperbole. But it’s a clear-eyed, fact-based and somber assessment of the dangers of gambling disguised as prediction markets, especially to young men.
As Oliver points out in his show, with Donald Trump Jr. on the payroll for both Kalshi and Polymarket, there won’t be any changes at the federal level. (The only sure bet is that the Trump family will always look for ways to cash in, no matter the costs to others.)
Are prediction markets making our society poorer in multiple ways? You bet!
I spent a decent amount of time last week hootin’ and hollerin’ in the Hoosier State. with nary a Gene Hackman sighting.
Live music is my game.
This past Tuesday, I drove to Bloomington, Indiana to see Gladie, an indie rock band from Philadelphia. (And my new musical obsession.)
(I also took my son and one of his roommates out to dinner before the show. It was “two-fer Tuesday.”)
Then on Friday, I went to Indianapolis with my friends Deuce* and Matt to see David Byrne at the Murat Theater.
*everyone should have a friend named Deuce
The members of Gladie are probably in their 20s. David Byrne will turn 74 later this month. (You wouldn’t know it by his stage presence, though.)
Byrne’s show was part of a two-night, sold-out stand. 5000+ people total enjoyed his amazing show.
Gladie’s show probably had fewer than 60 paying customers. But to me, it was equally amazing.
When David Byrne and his fellow Talking Heads band members were starting out, they probably had many sparse crowds at CBGB and other NYC venues.
Making music for a living is a tough row to hoe. Talent matters, but there’s also a lot of luck (or at least “right place/right time” involved). Talking Heads were part of the NYC scene that included bands like Blondie, The Ramones, Television, the New York Dolls… They didn’t sound the same, but they supported each other, and benefitted from audiences that were open to new ideas. And those bands stayed true to their thing. They stayed indie, even as they moved to major labels and the stakes got higher. David Byrne — who typically bikes around NYC (such a brave soul!) — spent Thursday biking around Indianapolis and taking photos to use in his show. And he started a great website called “Reasons to be Cheerful.”
You can check out the website and sign up for their weekly email here.
In other words, even though he’s playing to much bigger crowds, David Byrne is still indie.
Will Gladie be playing bigger stages down the line? I have no idea. They certainly have the talent.
But I hope they stay true to their thing. I hope they stay indie. Because 50 years from now, staying true to yourself — even if it’s just for a crowd of 60 — will matter much more than selling out to get a sell-out.
I’ll readily admit that I can be a Negative Nelly.
(OK, I begrudgingly admit it – true to form.)
A Debbie Downer.
“It’ll never work.”
“What will go wrong next?”
“We’re screwed.”
As Mr. Clear (great name, btw) points out, seeing the positive doesn’t involve putting on rose-colored glasses. It’s just – as Amy Krouse Rosenthal put it – paying attention to what you pay attention to.
“Chad” (a.k.a. our 2008 Honda CR-V) recently hit a mileage milestone.
240,000 miles. And he’s not dead yet.
Most of those miles were courtesy of previous owners. We got “Chad” (our kids named him… er, I mean, it) nearly 8 years ago. He already had clocked 181,000 by then. As “used” as used can be.
But nearly 60K is certainly something to celebrate. That’s a lot of trips to high school for our kids. A lot of trips to work for me (although I often take the bus – Chad deserves a break). Grocery gettin’. Driving to pickleball or concerts (my two most frequent trips).
Yes, we’ve had to put some money into repairs and general maintenance. But we’re probably making the equivalent of a monthly car payment about two or three times a year, instead of 12. And I’ve got a mechanic who does side-hustle work on nights and weekends for much lower rates than the dealer or other repair shops.
“Buy and hold” – that’s our stock philosophy and our car philosophy.
There’s no touchscreen display. No bluetooth. No backup camera. No heated seats. Nothing fancy. Just dependable. When you turn the key, Chad starts. And goes. And keeps on going. And as long as that happens, we’ll keep rolling with Chad.
“Good work can be good without being popular.” Amen to that, Brother Seth! In keeping with the music reference that Seth made, I know dozens of bands who have created brilliant music but never got popular. There’s the famous Brian Eno quote about the Velvet Underground:
“I was talking to Lou Reed the other day, and he said that the first Velvet Underground record sold only 30,000 copies in its first five years. Yet, that was an enormously important record for so many people. I think everyone who bought one of those 30,000 copies started a band!”
But the key part of Seth’s gospel passage is “begin by becoming comfortable with what good feels like to you.”
To YOU. Not anyone else. When it’s good, you’ll know it in your heart. And if you stay true to your heart (and gut) and keep doing the work, your good will get better.
This past Friday night, Milwaukee singer/songwriter Brett Newski played a free show in the lounge at the Southgate House in Newport, KY.
The music was great, but the crowd could best be described as “sparse.” However, there was a woman in the audience who knew the lyrics to every song Brett sang. She was mouthing along (not, it should be noted, singing along) to every tune. So much so that Brett commented on it from the stage – he was duly impressed.
After the show, that same woman and her husband talked to Brett at the merch booth, and the woman got a photo with him. Afterward, she was crying tears of joy. So of course, i had to put on my roving reporter hat and go up to the couple, and find out the backstory.
Actually, I just complimented her – said it was great to see someone so passionate about Brett’s music. But I did get the backstory – her husband likes discovering new artists, and makes mix CDs for his wife. A Brett Newski song was on one of them, and Meghan (with a “h”… I asked, as good reporters do) was hooked.
Great news for Meghan: Brett and his band will be back in town this summer, playing a house concert. My friend Jacqui (the OG Brett Newski superfan – she and her hubby Dave hosted him at her house for a concert, and now they offer him and his band free room and board and a complimentary breakfast whenever they roll through town) introduced me to the couple who will be hosting the summer show (all of us were at the Southgate show), and I passed along the ticket info to Meghan.
House concerts. Lounge shows. It’s not 20,000 plus at Madison Square Garden – but it doesn’t matter. Brett Newski played to an appreciative crowd (including people who turn their homes into concert venues and Quality Inns for him), and got to meet someone who truly loves his music. And Meghan got to meet the person who creates art that she adores. That sort of connection doesn’t fill anyone’s bank account, but it nourishes the soul.
On Sunday, a Philly band called Gladie played at the Northside Tavern.
The music was great, but the crowd could best be described as “sparse.”
However, there was an old man there who knew (most of) the lyrics to every song Gladie played, and was mouthing along (not singing along) right near the stage. And he got to talk to the band after the show and let them know how much he loves their music. You won’t find that at Madison Square Garden. And my ticket costs less than the service fees for most big shows.
Have you found your Newski? Your Gladie? It doesn’t have to be a musician. If there’s someone who creates art that nourishes your soul, let them know, and find a way to support them. Before you squander more sunsets…
Batman & Robin are blasé compared to the real Dynamic Duo.
It isn’t Batman & Robin, it’s Carol & Robin:
I met them eons ago in college. They were a couple of years younger than our gang, but they became our pseudo kid sisters… mainly because two of their friends actually were kid sisters of two guys in our gang. At a small school like Xavier, it wasn’t long until all of us knew all of them and their larger group of friends.
[I’m not sure if Carol’s in the photo above – someone’s giant hair may be blocking her – but this is their squad, for sure.]
They’re NOT two peas in a pod. More like yin and yang. Or sugar and spice. Or sugar and hot sauce. Carol hails from Indianapolis. Robin’s a Cleveland kid. Carol’s a gentle soul, and Robin’s brash and bawdy. But the alchemy that happens when they get together is nothing short of amazing. It’s also usually nothing but trouble — in the best way possible.
Every time they meet up – which is often – it’s like they’re 18 all over again. Robin instigates. Carol aids and abets in the shenanigans. Robin starts laughing. Carol starts laughing and can’t stop. Next thing you know, everyone is laughing.
Even though they live in different cities (they’re back in their hometowns), they are inseparable soul mates. (Just don’t tell Carol’s husband or Robin’s boyfriend… actually they both already know it.)
Best friends are never apart, maybe in distance but never in heart.” – Helen Keller
If you’ve found the Carol to your Robin, or the Robin to your Carol, consider yourself truly blessed. Even if you just know a Carol & Robin, you’re lucky. They bring joy to each other, obviously. You wouldn’t invest 40+ years into someone who brings you down. But the special bond they have radiates outward. Twin suns, brightening up our days. They bring joy to the world — especially the folks like us who are lucky enough to be in their orbit often.
Damian on Uno, dos, tres, cuatro…: “That’s where my head was for the title as well, Chuck! Great musical minds…” Jun 2, 21:36
Chuck Wiggins on Uno, dos, tres, cuatro…: “The extent of my high school Spanish memory is being able to to the count off at the beginning of…” Jun 2, 11:19
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