Camp Revival

‘all•clear’

Snowmelt

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Busman’s Holiday is a two-piece band, Lewis Rogers and Addison Rogers, with a rotating string and woodwinds section. I keep thinking to myself: ‘Hey, they really remind me of someone,’ but I just can’t pinpoint it. The band does have a pristine sense for harmonies (through instruments or vocals) and musical clarity. In the video that first caught my attention, they are a three-piece string section as well as the Rogers brothers, all tucked into a pink couch for If You Make It’s Pink Couch live videos series.

Currently they are joined by a violinist and a clarinet-and-tenor-sax player. The band was recently featured on the highly acclaimed Daytrotter Sessions. The voices are haunting on this recording. I’ve always been a fan of brothers and sisters singing together; the harmonies are so cohesive, sometimes almost undetectable. With the brothers Rogers this is just the case.

Bloomington, Indiana owes bands like this for making its scene so notable (i.e. the Delicious, Good Luck (playing Healthy Times Fun Club in Seattle on May 22), the Native Young).

Daniel’s Lament from Old Friends

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Fred from Old Friends

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The Last Waltz from Old Friends

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My friend Meghan and I shared one of the most traumatic (wedding) experiences, ever. As string players, wedding season does not always translate into receptions, friends and cake. For us it can mean hours of practicing, preparation and nerves that rival the bride’s, or groom’s, cold-feet jitters. The experience that I am referencing above took place in Chicago in the summer of 2005. Meghan and I were hired to perform the music for a wedding. Nearly every cue that we entered in on was wrong, every solo started off flat, and when we weren’t playing the silence was filled by the sound of the groom’s father wrapping his knuckles and staring at us with the intent to kill. To top all of this off, on the way out of the wedding Meghan ended up stepping on a sharp metal object that had her bleeding during the entirety of her long train ride home. This was truly one of those experiences that warranted drinking to the point of forgetting a day ever happened.

To celebrate the upcoming five year anniversary of our worst day ever, and the entry into the 2010 wedding season, Meghan and I met for PHO in Ballard to stuff our faces and talk over the music that she is listening to. In an apologetic tone Meghan informed me that she was not really listening to anything ‘new’ or ‘fresh’. Instead she is listening to a lot of Tim Eriksen, the celtic/folk virtuoso, ethnomusicologist professor and leader of the band Cordelia’s Dad. I assured Meghan that ‘new’ and ‘fresh’ are not necessarily the aim of this blog. We also appreciate ‘beautiful’ and ‘listenable’, which is exactly what she brought to me. Enjoy some of Meghan’s choice selections from Tim Eriksen on this Mother’s Day.

Vernon / Wrestling Jacob, 95

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Idumea Sacred Harp Singers at Liberty Church

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Am I born to Die?

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Bassett Creek

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Dark•Stor•ies

‘Hollowed out’

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‘Goat’

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‘Harlot’

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I want to tell you a story about Tennis, but first I need to tell you about yoga. I don’t know that much about yoga. I have been a few times and I would like to make it a regular habit. The last Introduction to Yoga class I went to focused on the backside of our bodies. My back was curved inward and outward, my neck was stretched to lengthen my spine, and my lower back was aching from the pressure. My mind was clear and our teacher started to paint the portrait of our back being like sails that were catching the wind. In between poses he would remind us that the wind had shifted. Things were about to change physically and spiritually, new adventures awaited.

This is the story of Tennis. Alaina and Patrick currently reside in landlocked Denver, Colorado where they decided to follow a dream of sailing the seas. Looking for nothing, but gaining the inspiration create and inspire. Their winds have shifted over time, but they are to create joyous songs and share them with anyone who will listen. This is the story of Tennis.

Baltimore

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The Barry. (Image courtesy of Andrew Nedimyer)

My best friend Barry and I have gotten into some sticky situations. Real sticky. And no matter how sticky things get, Barry somehow keeps his cool while I go bonkers.

The stint that Barry and I spent working in a coal mine was a very dark time for me. The working conditions of the colliery destroyed me. Hours in complete darkness breathing toxic materials pushed me to depression and insomnia. I lost track of what day and time it was. I started collecting random pieces of garbage and storing them beneath my bed. My fish died because I didn’t clean his bowl.

Meanwhile, Barry flourished in the mines. He won a lobster dinner for producing so much coal and his chipper “go get ‘em” attitude. He also volunteered at the local rec center teaching senior citizens how to play basketball. He won the lottery, and donated the winnings to some animal-helping organization. In efforts to cheer me up, he would bring an extra pack of fruit snacks to share with me. It only made my demeanor the worse. I couldn’t fathom how he could tolerate the hours we spent in what to me was a tomb.

It wasn’t until just recently that I discovered that the entire time we were in the mine, Barry had been listnening to the song “The Walls Are Coming Down” by Fanfarlo on his headphones. Bright, rich, and ornate. Uplifting choruses crescendo over swooping strings and horns. Maybe what it would be like if you could eat a whole apple pie without any guilt. Sweet.

‘The Walls Are Coming Down’

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That Barry, he knows what he is doing.