All work and no music makes gem a dull boy. So we fixed that. Music refactoring at the Stick followed by recording in Wilmington. Here are some highlights.
Where’s Aubrey was joined by the incredible Charles Arthur in the studio.
And yes, we started at the Stick (on Ocean Isle Beach) where we practiced. Our schedule was tight, and sleep is for the weak. But first things first. Since Rhine flew into ILM, we set up an impromptu rendezvous with Adrian and Julie. Dinner was excellent, and Moonshine made a fast friend of Ralph.
We ended up at the Symphony with those fine people come Saturday.
Practice on the porch.
Industry sour with the last bottle of Green Chartreuse in NC.
Moonshine got in some fine music time.
The Wilmington Symphony played Shostakovich 5.
Moonshine, meanwhile, destroyed the screen door.
Turns out I found a musical sibling (same teacher, Linda Case, as Suzuki kids).
The bassist from NY. Hella talent.
NC sippy cups for the concert. LOL.
The after party was a blast. But then it was time for even more work.
Each night before a recording session we crammed on the music.
There was also some beach time. Moonshine was a hit at doggie day care.
Studio day one.
Hope in time for sunset and breakfast for dinner.
More cramming. And more studio time.
Followed by more beach and more cramming. We were very efficient, but the work was intense.
Studio day three (the last).
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And then it was time to get into the Liberals.
All in all a great experience. We bonded as musicians and friends.
One of the great bands from this area, Furnace Mountain counts the Barns of Rose Hill as its home venue. They consistently sell out their shows at the barns, and for good reason. Here are some pictures and videos from the Dave’s Birthday Bash show.
A superb song like Suzanne showcases the band’s high level of talent.
Of course there is classic old timey music to play as well.
There were some non-standard parts of this show, it being a birthday bash and all.
Doritos were served, but only to select teenagers.
As the show happened on the Lunar New Year’s Day (welcome to the year of the rabbit), a Chinese folk song or two were offered from the stage. Normally, the band sticks to Americana.
Danny plays a mean mando. Of course he plays everything else too.
The medley.
A crowd favorite and one of the band’s best songs, Bluebell.
So next time Furnace Mountain plays, get your tickets early.
An important new year’s resolution for me this year is to play more music. We started things right with a session on January 2nd. Rhine came into town for a day. Clark popped by for some music. Our best audience was lulled to sleep.
Playing in the living room.
We had some Scot Toddy’s in Romey’s xmas cups and kept the bar open late.
First things first, though, the violin must be transformed into tip top shape. Thank goodness Josh Henry, my esteemed bow guy, also doubles as a violin guy.
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And then we were ready for some action!
Sound check in the street.
Load in and a fabulous bar. Real drinks and intimate music. Yes please.
The opener.
Ritt and Wilder pre-fiddle.
It was pretty fun watching, but way more fun playing!
We rocked the house.
And the best part other than performing? Visiting the Wilder Dietz School of Music! Walking for hours in Madison (one of the prettiest university towns in the US). Spending quality time with the extended family of Ritt and Vic.
The thing about Italians is that they love live music. And they love Americans too (in spite of our recent proclivities for absolute dumb shit behavior). Rhine and I took advantage of this by dragging around our instruments and playing for our supper where we ate.
The first great restaurant run happened after our worldwide debut as Into the Unknown in Campiglio Cervo. The crowd converged and decided we needed a reservation subito subito.
In the end, I was spirited off with Santa Mariela so I could see the restaurant and meet the owners with my own eyes. That’s because Ruers above Piedicavallo exists past where the road ends. So you have to walk there once you ditch your car. Incredible views await. And the kindest people.
On the same fact finding mission, we also had to make a quick trip to visit Dick (a local Scott of great flare) and his cat, and catch up with pretty much everyone we encountered. This was fun, but it made us late late late.
My scouting expedition revealed this view (that is Biella down there somewhere).
We returned (very late) in the Fiat 500, parked at the edge of the world, and proceeded to have an excellent dinner replete with local wine house made cheeses, polenta, roast beef, and even gluten free stuff for Matt.
After dinner we got out our instruments and played a little music. Here is part of the “first song” (a song by Bob that we always play first so we never have to figure out what to play first).
Then we entered the kitchen to play for the cooks. This was a blast, and the staff was most appreciative. Lets just say we are welcome back any time, forever.
Check out the face on this guy.
This kind of experience is what makes a trip to Italy an amazing, humanizing experience. And to top it all off, the Signora would not let me pay all that I owed.
Of course, once we did it once, we had to do it again. That’s just how it goes.
Rhine and I scouted out a restaurant run by the slightly pazzo Roberta in Sanctuario San Giovanni. The moon was almost full, and the werewolves were awakening.
The local Barbera was outstanding. This was one of the best simple meals we had on the trip.
Top of the world to you.
If you look closely, you will see Rhine.
Roberta recognized us as part of the concert crowd from Campigliano Cervo and asked if we had brought our instruments. Since we rushed to arrive by 8:30 the answer was no. Roberta asked us to return the next evening after our big opera, and a plan was born. We promised to arrive a punto by 8:29pm.
She sent up home with a 100 year old plate for April and some goodies for breakfast. We shared some grappa.
It took some doing after the big opera performance, but we did make it. The moon was full. Everyone else arrived shortly thereafter. I played my violin at the edge and made Mariela cry.
And, once again after dinner, we played in the kitchen for the cooks even as the vegan meal was blitzkrieged on the massive stove. The floor was sticky, but the love was palpable.
After a bunch of beers (who is counting?), we wound our way over a 5km spiral into the venue. Germans are a very orderly bunch. Bt who thought up this entrance and exit plan?
MOO.
Sabaton from Sweden
Rock and roll
What?!
My crowd. What an unruly, fantastic bunch.
There was beer
Did I mention the part about the beer?
We pushed off the rain through sheer psychic magic, but it was only delayed.
Nap time for the American
Five Finger Death Punch
You may start with five fingers, but you will end up with four.
Finally, Metallica
Are you feeling good? Yes, we are.
Some guitar for you.
Rocker
Nothing else matters in this crowd of strangers. Metalheads are a welcoming bunch.
My music has been on a COVID hiatus for way too long — only the occasional rain in the desert with Rhine or a Bitter Liberal or two. Fortunately, along came Ritt Deitz who just released a new album and did a four show tour to promote its release. Buy a copy of Hinge here.
I played two of the shows with Ritt and his son, multi-instrumentalist and talented child Wilder. The shows were great. Here are some bits.
Wilder Deitz plays mandolin
The DC date was actually in Vienna at Diego Ruiz’s house.
The lineup (near the end anyway)
An excellent place to play a house concert. Great people.
All temporary of course. As we are not of this world.
Cocktails by Bill Shepardson. Where did that doctor’s bag come from?
Wilder Deitz plays piano
No, mandolin. Wilder plays mandolin.
The feet
Wilder plays guitar
No wait, it’s piano that Wilder plays.
Some other fiddler
I did play, honest. But nobody was there to record said playing. He said he played. He played.
Sing it.
Then it was on to Wilmington, NC for a Sunday evening performance (close enough to the Stick to merit a long drive).
During the 28th annual Oopstock, we spontaneously performed this version of Nanci Griffith’s song “Love at the Five and Dime” as a memorial. Nanci died the day before we performed this song.
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