Happy Sunday!

This song -- Blind Willie Johnson's God Don't Never Change -- was one that I'd sing a lot when I first came to New York City.  Now I'm relearning it and incorporating it into what's next.

More and more, I'm embracing the sounds of my childhood. I can't even begin to imagine where this will end up but I'm enjoying the sonic regression.

sunday's gig

here's a cool photo of jef lee johnson and naisha watson at soundcheck. the gig on sunday at the brooklyn museum was stellar, for many reasons. read more about it on my rock and roll blog here.

the one reason i couldn't stop dwelling on was that this was the first time that i could hear the new songs -- material that i'd written all by myself -- out of the confines (and the safety) of the sofa in my living room. not that i'd never written a song by myself before but i've written so many all at once this time around that they're starting to tell a story that reflects a lot of what i've been going through recently. i know that as an artist, what you create is supposed to be a reflection of you, but this is much more transparent than i expected, and all of it sounds better than i'd hoped for.

after awhile, whatever brought me to the song is what i leave there inside of it when its done. i've gotten it off my chest, as it were. the emotional weight that brought it out of me only exists when i sing it, and that's a passing momentary thing. i left it in the song for someone else to feel. and so i'm on to the next.

i didn't mean to write about these things in such a direct way, i never meant to be so deliberate about it. i didn't think to myself, let me write a song about that situation. i just happened to be thinking about or reliving a moment in that situation and the song came out.

i realize now more than ever that this is the way it works creatively. to be inside the moment-to-moment work as this process is unraveling inside of me and all around me is overwhelming and humbling and strange. the songs are becoming jigsaw puzzle pieces that, when placed together just so are a complete picture, a snapshot of whatever i was going through at that moment in my life.

actually, i'm still going through it. i'm still writing it all out of me. it's not over yet.

sister rosetta tharpe

i'm reading a bio on sister rosetta tharpe called shout sister, shout! that's really changing the way i see her as a rock and roll prototype and the way i see myself as a musician and performer.

look at how amazingly cool she is!

wierdly enough, she and i are a lot alike. we both grew up as members of the pentecostal church, in the sanctified church, otherwise known as C.O.G.I.C. we both had our first moments as vocalists and performers there -- although the image of her as a 5 year old standing on a piano and wielding a guitar is pretty stultifying. she's very much a holly roller and not surprisingly, she's a showgirl, a real comedienne and entertainer, a flashy, schmaltzy frontperson that believes in entertaining the audience. the photo to the left is pretty cool but in my favorite images of her, she's got on a long elegant glittery gown, she's wearing beautiful jewelry, she's flawlessly made up and gorgeous, and she's got a bonafide electric rock and roll guitar -- not some folksy, quiet, acoustic number.

i must say, i for one have never understood the urge to not dress up when appearing onstage. i'm the one that dresses up to get to the gig, so i can dress up all over again. any excuse to wear a gown of some sort -- even if it's denim -- and i'm probably going to take it.

in the videos i've seen, she's slinging her guitar with an authority and ease that's positively ballsy. and of course, absolutely unheard of, then and now. she's not a quiet strumming wallflower. everything about her is loud, from her amped up guitars to her over-the-top showmanship. and i love loud.

this is really inspiring me to dig in and continue to learn how to play guitar. but looking at the video clip below and watching her go at it is enough to make anyone want to plug in and rock out.

guitar-slinging blackgrrls have always been -- and continue to be -- legion. there are a lot of us out there to inspire me. (memphis minnie, anyone?)

a few thousand words

this is norris bennett on mountain dulcimer and myself on vocals (with a slight visual of henrique prince behind me on fiddle) at sekou sundiata's wedapeople cabaret at the gatehouse in harlem a few weeks ago.



this is what the stage area looked like. of course, the acoustics are amazing. so easy to imagine the water rushing through the place when it was a water plant in 1890. it's a remarkable achievement that they were able to preserve the intregity of the building the way that they did. the venue holds about 200 people. it was a sold-out night.



here's a shot of the rythym section: dave on bass and boo on acoustic guitar.

coming soon: video footage.

charlie louvin and i at rodeo bar & grill

my friend had met charlie louvin last year at the rodeo bar -- and he had the oversized color photo to prove it. he was so determined to see him play live that he literally came in from a cross-country vacation in the desert, put his bags down in his apartment and jumped in a cab to meet up with his friends who were already there and waiting for him. i was not to be outdone. the other night after we'd had a lovely dinner and taken in a broadway show, i decided we'd end the night by taking in the top of mr. louvin's first set at the rodeo bar, if my friend was up for it. undaunted, he happily agreed.

it was a thursday night, mr. louvin's 2nd night in residence as it were, and the place was packed as usual. and why wouldn't it be a shoulder-to-shoulder nightmare? there's never a cover, there's no drink minimum and the food is fairly decent tex-mex fare, with lots of righteous western/southern atmosphere and cool music posters and such. i'm still wondering if the enormous buffalo over the bar is real. boo reiners was playing guitar with him and he was in fine form.

eventually, the set ended and i got to say hello to boo. i asked him if he thought it would be alright to say hello to mr. louvin. "oh, sure," boo drawled. "he loves girls." indeed, there was a well-heeled, well dressed older dark-haired lady who sat in the booth against the wall nearby, watching everyone approach him, her lips smiling faintly, her index finger pressing against her lips, her other arm folded against her midsection, her jacket resting gingerly on her shoulders. i remember thinking, its so nice to see older women be...well, older. it's just not what's done these days. no one wants to age gracefully. she was loveliness personified. she had to be with him. she just had to be.

my friend and i made our way to the stage and dodged some fairly manic fan that was completely jabberwocky to get this photo. it was worth it, to meet my hero. all i could hear in my head as i looked into my own camera's eye was him and his brother ira singing their ever-popular gospel song "satan is real."

as i introduced myself, i told him that boo played on my last recordings and in a flash, he gave me his card and asked me to send him some of my music. he was warm and genuine and accessible, not unlike my friend's grandfather. when i mentioned that to my friend, he said that they vaguely resembled each other. and he's right.

i floated home and had wonderful dreams about recording my songs with charlie louvin. or at the very least, hanging out with him in nashville long enough to bake him and the lady a pound cake.