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Billy Strings in Pittsburgh

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We had a great time the first time we went to a Billy Strings show, but we had an even more fun time when we went again. Our fearless leader was Betty. She knows not only the Billy Strings touring family, but also the ropes and the behind the scenes lore. We have learned by now that if you are going to go to Billy Strings, go with Betty.

We drove up Friday just in the nick of time to get stuck in rainy day Pittsburgh rush hour traffic on our way to the Monaco. Betty encouraged us to get to the show when the gates opened so we could get a good spot in the pit (which of course required having pit tickets), so we had a quick bite at the hotel and walked over to the show.

    Friday show

We’ll kick things off with pictures and videos of the Friday show (which later you can compare with the Saturday show posted below).

We were close enough to the stage to have a fantastic view of the band.

The crowd was enthusiastic and lots of fun. We only had minor issues with a gaggle of drunk hippie chicks who invaded our space. By and large the crowd controls itself really well and people have a great time together. (This is especially true of the special area at the very front of the pit where Billy stations himself.)

Billy is the best flat picker on the planet.


Lots of jam
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Did we mention the jam?
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Stratosphere Blues
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Seney Stretch
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Just before halftime we went for some tequila and changed locations.

Soundboard


Richard Petty
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The Billy community gathered for a post-concert photo (this apparently happens after every show). Betty is in here somewhere.

    Saturday show

Saturday morning, our intrepid leader got up early to secure super double plus good bands for us to get into the show with the first 100 people. Our place in the pit was even more incredible as a result. We are so grateful to just ride along. What a treat.

In the mid-afternoon after some art, we returned to the Monaco at a perfect time. We spotted Billy and his dog Bear in the lobby and went over to pat the dog. As we rode the elevetor together, Romey talked about Maybelline while loving on Bear. It was a sweet moment.

We had a really fun time being 95 and 96 and goofing around with the others. This all meant we were on the floor just after 6 securing our location and meeting our neighbors. Betty knows everybody.

Razzle dazzle is required in this section of the pit. Caturday? (Or “pigturday” if you are wearing a Pink Floyd concert tee from the Animals tour.)

There was no goofing off.

This fella has been to 333 Billy shows.

Ring bling.

This was the view. Dang.


Love Like Me
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There was some jam
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We were in charge of tequila procurement. That’s something we are mighty good at.


Bass solo
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Psycho (Jack Kittel)
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One of my favorite pictures from the show.

Billy deep in the moment.

Billy played some excellent old timey bluegrass.


Wait a Minute (Seldom Scene)
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Outstanding in all respects. We had even more fun Saturday than the other two shows we’ve attended. Betty must be on to something.

YES at the Warner Theater in 2025

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Yes they were phenomenal. Yes their songs are interesting. Yes they have a very high cheese factor. Yes we still love them.

Yes, Steve Howe is 78 years old. And he’s starting to slow down.

Here’s what I said to Gina about the whole thing:
Amazing and awful. The younguns in the rhythm section (Billy Sherwood and Jay Schellen) are astounding (and Jon Davison too). But Steve Howe and Geoff Downes have lost the edge and can’t find the groove. So it was both magical to see the songs we love actually performed, and also frustrating to feel the train car push and pull of a busted machine.

Lots of love on the stage though. And you have to be forgiving of a 78 year old stunt guitarist.

FWIW, the audience was definitely in worse shape than the band. A bunch of creaking hippies and OG dungeonmasters. But it was Yes, and that was a thing. The Warner Theater is almost a good place to see a show (VIP treatment is still not very V).

Regardless of all that. These songs stand the test of time. Wow.


Wondrous Stories


Roundabout


We Have Heaven


South Side of the Sky

And holy shit this bass.


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Heart of the Sunrise

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A Beatles Cover? LOL


Starship Trooper

Jazz at Mad Monkfish (Boston)

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You know what else they have in the big city? They have Jazz, every Sunday, played by Berklee professors. There is even “cowboy jazz” about which we will say no more.

The drinks are not bad either.

We are sorry to report that Julia has joined a gang.

Who is this guy? The Church of David Byrne

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It was Boston. It was Wang. It was not Wang Chung.

Little David.

Big David.

Playing in a Church.

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OK. OK. It wasn’t a church and it didn’t burn down. But boy was there dancing. Our whole balcony bounced…especially during the Talking Heads covers.

Maybe it was a church.

With naked people.

And very small performers way down there.

Floating up above the suburbs.

Running

Into the 1970s Rock and Roll gestalt

Anyway, hallelujah

The visuals were astounding. And the hits were hits. This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)

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Things were white

And way down there

Little ants

Singing songs about Slippery People.

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No wait, it’s New York. And we’re all in David’s apartment. I wish we were invited in.

Life During Wartime involves some kind of ice skating simulation

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This is the sort of thing you only experience Once in a Lifetime.

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Wait. Once in a Lifetime twice? What’s going on here.

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I guess we were invited after all. Everybody’s Coming to My House he said.

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And then it all came to a flaming end Burning Down the House.

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Goodbye band.

Goodbye very small David.

Esperanza Spalding in Brazil

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When we were looking for a concert to attend Saturday night in the São Paulo Spring, we were surprised by the pickings. Not much going on even though the city is huge. A conversation in Brazil with a young show producer told the tale of why, the gist of it being that a post COVID explosion of creativity is drawing to a close and the performers are exhausted. But the constraints led us directly to an exceptional treat—Esperanza Spalding in Brazil.

Magical.

We did require some help from our new friend Christian (a USP fresh out Ph.D.) who was able to use the local shotgun app to get tickets. I tried that earlier from the US with no luck since the app required a Brazilian citizen ID number.

In a small world phenomenon, we ran into Fabio Kon and his wife while waiting in line to get into the venue.

It was nice to spend some time with the locals. LOL. Here are some pictures and videos of the show.

There was some waiting around to do from 8pm to 10pm, but it was all worth it.

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We were, in fact, in Brazil…as you can hear.

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A commentary in AI and jazz. Computer speed and human speed compared.

When we got back to the rosewood after the show, we had a late night snack at 1:30am.

32 Years of Felst

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For me, the highlight of year 32 was this cover of ziggy stardust by moosehut.

32 years. Dang. I will admit that oopstock iterations are starting to run together. Sadly, Romey couldn’t come because Leiden was due any second. In fact, two days after I returned from NH, Leiden was born.

My direct puddle hopper was delayed on the tarmac before taking off (for no real reason). But at least the instruments fit. First on, both flights with a few seconds to stow. Arrival time was 2am, but Rhine was ready with Negroni fixings.

Ah yes, and there were the uncharacteristic shorts kindly loaned from Zay. I forgot to pack shorts. Given the temperatures, that was a major mistake.

There were two warholian projects underway this year in parallel…silk screening and screen tests. Very cool. Maybe inspired by the wedding?? Or maybe just a coincidence.

There was also a stump. We disagree with the “kill the fiddler” sentiments for all the reasons. I mean, exactly how long can a little brother aggravate you?

Meanwhile the stage was set and the fascist clock’s batteries were checked.

Music ran from noon to 10pm before shuttling over to the campfire.


Some salsa for you.


Abba in shorts!

Eventually it got dark.


Hendrix.

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And then it was the next day. Another day of uncharacteristic shorts.

All hail the inner chijuana…is that how you spell it?

Lazing

And a visit to the pond before an evening of electric fun featuring lots of Floyd.

We surrender!

And now for something completely different: Allan James in the Park

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Allan James and I have played together a few times late night at a soltice party or during jam sessions at the cabin, but we had never performed together until this July 25th. On a steaming hot day, clocking in at 94 degrees in the shade, we played a couple of sets to an appreciative audience in the park at Rose Hill in Berryville.

We had a blast. Here’s how that went.

We played 20 original songs all written and performed by Allan. After just a handful of practice sessions, we were ready…


Lonely Little Bird


Low Down Dirty

The music was just as hot as the evening. You can find many of the songs we performed on Allan’s CDs.

Trombone Shorty at Wolf Trap

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Trombone Shorty puts on a damn good show, packed with energy, dancing and pizzazz.   The Filene Center is a great place to catch his act.  But by all means skip the opening acts.  (Seriously, Dumpstaphunk was a disorganized mess, and JJ Grey was in need of a trailer park bar.  We were looking at each other like “what the fuck.”)

Then this happened and the place magically transformed.

No show this day was complete without a tribute to ozzy.

The show ended with an ovation at 10:58.

Italo Calvino Invisible Cities by Toy Atlas Theater

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What a treat. A Chicago-level show in our tiny hamlet (in fact well outside the hamlet way up on the mountain). Danny Hobert and his partner in crime, performing as the Toy Atlas Theater, put on a magical captivating multi-media extravaganza—twice. (This entry combines photos and videos from both shows. To keep you on your toes, the interleaving is imperfect and a bit faded around the edges.)

Clark Hansbarger and I opened for the first show with a bit of Bitter Liberals music. Which of course requires actual Liberals.

The scene. A barn on the blue ridge converted into a portal to other dimensions.

The audience was captivated.

This kind of magical experience is all too rare in modern American adulthood.  Calvino’s work is an excellent vehicle for considering the contradiction and confusion of modern life, exposing its inner absurdity from a view at the sharpest edge of a very small razor.

Iron and Wine at Wolf Trap

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Iron and Wine put on a very good show. Great band. Tasty drums. And tight.


Call it Dreaming


God Made the Automobile

Things got even better when I’m With Her joined in. Outstanding.


Robin’s Egg


I Give a Little Bit of Myself


Flightless Bird

And as Ben said. It was hot as the Dickens.

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