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FRIDAY
JULY 16TH 2004 -
8:30 PM -
RIVERHEAD BLUES FESTIVAL!
This past weekend, Friday, July
16th and Saturday July 17, I played three highly enjoyable gigs out on the east
end of Long Island, plus did a bunch of jamming to boot.
Friday night, I played with yet another in the long-evolving line-ups of the
Groove Kings, this time with my good buddy and musical compatriot Vito Luizzi on
drums, plus Dennis Metzler (Shockshine) on bass and Brian LeClerc on guitar. We
were appearing at the 6th annual Riverhead Blues festival, and because I
submitted to the festival so late, we couldn't get on the main stage but instead
got the "headlining" spot in the RIFDA Theater Friday night. The advantage of
closing the show in there as opposed to a normal slot on the main stage is that
we could play longer than the typical 45-50 minutes; we played for two hours
non-stop.
The RIFDA only has about 60-70 seats in it and is rather small (it's also
pitch-black in there; I think Pee Wee Herman was in the back row) but by the
time we started playing, there had to be over 100 people jammed in there, with
people overflowing out of both sides of the performance space---that was pretty
cool. Brian and Dennis are both fantastic players so I always love having them
on the gig. We opened with a thing I've been opening with over the last few
months, a swinging version of "T-Bone Shuffle" that modulates through three
keys, from Bb to C to D. This offers maximum territory for screwing around for
all players involved. Dennis and Vito have not played together that many times
(a half dozen), but they are a great rhythm section in that their styles
compliment each other so well; they both swing in a relaxed but forward-leaning
way, driving the music always but supplying a great pocket no matter what the
tempo or groove.
Brian is simply one of the best guitar players I have ever heard; he has
fret-melting chops and great ideas, touch, tone and always plays with absolute
spontaneity and great feeling. His ears are sharp as tacks and picks up on cues
virtually the same millisecond they are happening. I have to work to keep up
with this guy. The coolest part is we get into so many shared melodies,
complimentary lines, harmonized lines and trades, and push each other's playing.
On this particular gig, the shit was really flying and we hit on dozens of great
improvised themes and harmonies. This could be said for the second song we
played, Albert King's "Wrapped Up In Love Again," as well as the fast swing
"Ain't That Just Like A Woman," the slow blues, "Gambler's Blues" and Freddie
King's "Big Leg Woman." The people went ballistic and we really appreciate it.
It was great to see so many friends and musician buddies there.
About halfway through I brought up Pat Russo, a 14-year-old student of mine who
is an excellent player; he plays better than most guitar players out there
regardless of age. He got a slammin' tone out of a '65 Blackface Pro Reverb and
definitely blew people's minds---he better stop stealing my licks though; I'll
have to give him a whippin'! Then the stage manager, Johnny C.
of Killer Joe and the Lido Soul Review got up with us and kicked some more ass
on Muddy Waters' "Long Distance Call" and Robert Johnson's "Sweet home Chicago,"
for which I used my faded SG to play some slide to close the show. The crowd
response was incredible and we sold out of our CD's.
Afterwards, I made it over to Club 91 for the Bobby Nathan jam---it's always
great to see and play with Bobby and Joanne, and I also played with Sam Taylor
and his great bandmates, White Gary on bass and the incomparable Mario on drums,
plus my bud Clutch Reilly on bass. I ended up playing for another hour and a
half over there.
I thought I was going to have a nice, relaxing time on Saturday during the day,
because I had a 9-1 gig that night at Tweeds in Riverhead right on the Festival
site, with keyboardist Ken Kresge. But instead my good buddy and former Groove
Kings drummer Richard Rosch (the Swiss watch) offered me a gig with his wife,
singer Annie Morgan, plus the great guitar player Bosco Michne, the ridiculous
Kenny Harris on bass and the rock-solid Jim Lawler on drums at Nick's On the
Beach in Montauk. It was an incredibly perfect day weather-wise so I said yes,
and I went from having too much free time to being in an incredible hurry all
day long.
Made it out to Montauk on time and met some great people (Arik and Lee Ann, or
"Leeeeeeeeeeen" as I thought she said) and the music was seriously smokin'. All
funk, soul, r&b and blues and the crowd was way into it. Nick and his wife came
down and it was great to see them, and Bosco and I really should have been
arrested for the guitar-overload we engaged in. He is another East End player
that deserves widespread recognition; he's also one of the best players I've
ever heard, with brilliant chops and ideas, and is a master rhythm guitar player
as well as a monster soloist, and plays comfortably in a wide range of styles.
And he lent me a strap and a high E string, neither of which I had, so good
thing one of us was prepared.
After inhaling Nick's classic Fish sandwich, I flew back to East Hampton
(automotively) and then on to Riverhead, seriously short on time. The center of
Riverhead is all roadblocks because of the festival, and you need a "Band
Access" flyer on the dashboard to get to the stage or the other venues.
When I got to the first roadblock, instead of it being closed and manned by a
policeman, it was wide-open and no cop was in sight. I figured they were letting
people through the first check point because there was another about 100 feet up
anyway. When I got to that one, it was right where Tweeds is located, so I told
that cop I needed to unload the gear. He was on his walkie-talkie and said a cop
behind me wanted him to stop me.
This bald-headed freak of a cop comes running up to my car screaming, "WHAT THE
HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING? YOU BLASTED THROUGH THE BARRIER!!!" I told him
that I was prepared to stop but it was open and no one was standing there. He
screamed, "Give me your license and don't even talk!!" By this point, Ken, the
guy I was playing with, had come over to help me with my gear, and asked the cop
what the problem was. The guy was apoplectic (if that's the right word, meaning
that he was so upset he could barely speak) and then I got out of the car and
started to talk to him. "One more word out of you and I'm putting you in
cuffs!!" he screamed. He made me turn around and follow him as he walked back
towards the other check point, steam coming out his ears, and then he found his
"superior" (no exaggeration in this
instance) and explained the situation. This cop was probably fed up with the
other moron anyway, because he calmly came over and asked me what happened.
I told him and he said, "Okay, you can park right here." As the idiot cop handed
me my license back I apologized again, and he screamed, "Yeah, well how sorry
would you be if you killed someone?!" A little stressed, pal?
Maybe if he was doing his job instead of bullshitting with people on the
sidewalk, not manning his post, he wouldn't have looked like such an idiot in
front of his boss. Dickhead.
So, this immediately lent an air of comedy to the rest of the evening---along
with the fact that Ken and I had to set up in a space about as big as a wait
station (three feet by two feet). Somehow we did it, plus stuck Pat's amp on top
of mine. We had a great time playing and a lot of great friends stopped in and
hung out (the incomparable Jimmy and Mary Treutlien, Val and David, Mary, Carol
and Danny, NYC_Barb and her husband [my Dickey Betts pals] and Smoke Daddy Pete
the Hat). The owners of Tweeds, Ed Tuccio and his wife, were super-nice and I
ate a Bison Rib Eye steak (they raise their own bison on their farms) and I
thought it was damn good. Pat and my good friend Dave Nesdall sat in on guitars
and we actually tore it up even though it felt like we were playing in a phone
booth.
Then this really wild chick showed up---she looked Asian, or may have been at
one point in her life but it was hard to tell whether she'd had total face
reconstruction or had perhaps been a man a few weeks earlier. She was rail-thin,
super-tight clothes, platinum hair and danced like a stripper, and she really
seemed to take a liking to Dave. She wiggled in his face, pulled up her shirt
and dropped her augmented boobs about an inch from his nose (which was four
inches from mine). 'Where's the party?" she managed to say through 700 drinks.
"If Stevie was alive I'd fuck the daylights out of him!" After we played, Dave
and I loaded up our cars and were standing on the street, and she came out of
the restaurant. At this point, about five other guys had given up on her, but
this one extremely drunk guy had claimed his prize. Anyway, she comes over to
Dave and starts sucking on his dog collar-chain necklace. Then she said,
"Whaaaaaafleeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnooooo" or something like that. Bobby Nathan was
hosting a jam at Digger's across the street but I was too shot by that point.
Another action-packed weekend---I've got Japan coming up in less than two weeks
with Mitch and Billy, so more updates to come........
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