And a mighty fine job was done, too, by Central Mass Bluesman Charlie Scott and his newest band, Mighty King Snakes, opening for a standing-room-barely Iron Horse tonight (Sat 1/2). Best way to sum it up is to say it was one of those “can’t do no wrong” nights. The capacity crowd is quite cooperative, getting revved-up and ready for James Montgomery, and the band reciprocates with a smooth gusto. The set they deliver seems so seamless in its delivery and authoritative in its performance that one can’t help but be surprised -very- to hear a word to the effect that they’re pretty much just funnin’ around…
Having the Valley’s (and the Horse’s) own Stew Mandoo in the band don’t do no harm, neither. Whether most folks here tonight know the guy well or not, all seem happy to have him out from behind the bar and up on the stage blowing harp.
Talk about a pleasant surprise… two top-tier valley guitar greats, plus Fat’s original line-up (pretty much).
With Peter J Newland fronting, of course, James (Jim K) Kaminski playing guitar, Guy Devito on bass, and William “Benji” Benjamin at the drum kit, these ol’ boys take the stage at the Iron Horse with all the calm, cool confidence and panache that comes with the couple centuries’ experience they all have between ’em.
Bonus tonight: Mitch Chakour, legendary Valley singer/slinger of similar standing (certainly no less so) as our local heroes, joins the band, filling in for their usual, current long-time stalwart second, Mark Pappas. Midway thru the first set, after playing about half of that eponymous 1970 RCA album and another early tune or two, Peter J plays humble host and starts calling up guests to take their turns at the mics and amps. Mitch pulls his keyboard up in front and delivers some gritty white-soul before switching back to his beautiful red gee-tar, and co-feature June Millington delivers another generous share of soulful grit. Northampton singer-songwriter Sam Plotkin joins in, along with tonight’s opener (another area name), Ray Mason, and then all the others for a local-legend version of Dylan’s old Rolling Thunder Revue; and they all put a spiritual-seeming spin on “Like a Rolling Stone.” Pete always put a gospel application to the song, anthemizing it with the love and respect that can only come from The Real Deal, one who was there.
These are things he does, this Newland feller- singing classic material with both ease and authority, and making a real celebration of every FAT show. When it’s ‘just’ the five guys (as if), they bring an energy to the house, as though they are as excited to play and grateful for the opportunity as the audients are to be part of the happ’nin’ – kinda like every gig is their first reunion in who-knows-how long. At plenty of other times, though, Pete will arrange a whole special event for a date, inviting area stars to step up and kick it in.
If FAT were a foursome...
The old Stearns Square series in Springfield seems on the verge of becoming an entirely new entity, having moved to Court Square and featuring FAT as the city champions that they have evolved into. Last time around, summer 2015, they had all the members of the original AND current bands, which means Mark is in the mix and the stage is big enough for Chet Pasek to join Benji on double-drums, rather than switching it up as they also like to do. It is with no small measure of regret, and a certain sense of embarrassment, that one (ahem) might admit to having been elsewise occupied on that particular evening. It turned out to have been a smoker, with appearances by Tommy Whalen, Janet Ryan, and various & whatnot local faves, as well as tonight’s special guest, the aforementioned Mitch Chakour.
Waaay later on, after a catalog review from across decades, Mr Newland welcomes up a former member, from an eighties incarnation of the band lovingly referred to as the Mel’s House Band, and Peter Frisell, up from Florida, borrows Guy’s five-string while the gentlemanly bassist percusses away behind him. Momentum carries the activity a good hour beyond the planned curtain-time before they almost end it with that old single, “Livin’ Like an Outlaw.” With a bit of provocation, though, they whip out an encore, Van Morrison’s “Brown-Eyed Girl” – thus presenting a fitting reprise for the whole affair, as pretty much anyone who graced the stage at any point crowded back on up for the rousing finale. Pardon the use of a phrase as trite as “rousing finale,” but there are no better words for it. A finale it is, of course, but rousing? Yep, resoundingly so, but even so, only slightly more so than the rest of this event-of-an-evening, now called by the house, “FAT & Friends.”
Later and more laterer afterwards, while the band is breaking down (ever think about that? Job sucks then, don’t it!)… in the afterglow, the atmospheric resonance that lingers after a moment of much moment, one more thought comes to mind: That ol’ Peter J, the Big Guy, Meestah Newland… he has really come to be quite the gracious and humble host, has he not? He handles with calm, cool, competent confidence the roles of bandeader, emcee, and (of course) front-man. All that, assuredly, but even more so, the “humble host” persona seems a suitable slot for him. And yes- this is that same Peter Newland of whom legends have been created, recorded and reported; but not in any kind of recent memory… Take it from one with a story or two under-belt as well: it’s an inspiration (and a demonstration) to see the old heroes grow up and do it graciously. Same goes for the rest of ’em too, really. Jim K wails like a wildman, as always, but we don’t see ANY of ’em engaged in any of the rock-&-roll antics that coulda killed ’em before now. They’re coming up on 50, didja know that? How many bands are there, who have been around since the 60’s (ok, later 60’s) and always had a line-up ready to take a gig (well, pretty much)… and every single one of ’em’s still alive, right down to all original members and any one who’s ever been on the FAT bus… That’s gotta be some kind o’ record, man!
And then there’s Ray Mason, who ain’t no spring chicken hissef … and he ain’t died yet, neither!
Added afterthought: Talk about ebullience! There was joy all around the stage, and enjoyment all ’round the joint! So much so, in fact, that I noticed it on Guy in particular- finally, after observing it all along but this time really, I asked: what’s up with that? He told me that he has been called ‘Smiley’ once or twice in his life, made me promise not to tell (or write), and then explained that there were indeed a whole lotta good vibes this time out. Pete also added that the band had prepared and anticipated, but not overly much, so what we got was indeed genuine and spontaneous. My own assessment is that we were fortunate to have been there for one of those moments when the Muse descends and uplifts. I’m pretty sure it only happens once in a while, and it takes a level of musicianship and a sense of that thing I can only call ‘community,’ such that all involved are both up to the level and simultaneously able to relax in the moment. I think musicians call it ‘energy.’
Hangin’ at the CatJam, home turf for the illustrious Cheri “Doctor” Drexler, bartendress of the for any century, any planet, any whatever.
The point is, everybody loves her, Eva loves her, I loves her bestest of all. That would be why Eva Cappelli dedicated this week’s blues jam at City Sports to our dear, sweet friend in her time of great sorrow. Which calls to mind a rather profound and somewhat surprising observation, one which comes up in conversation every now and then but hasn’t been addressed here at the Dusty Turntable in quite a while.
Ya’ll musician-folk are Community. I have seen it multiple times these last couple-few years. When I first came amongst youse guys, I was advised to “watch my back” or some such thing. I was told that music-peeps will stab each others’ backs in their eternal scramble for gigs; it was suggested thaI I not friendly-up to many, or even any of ya’s; and I was coached to watch everything I say and to whom’s I said it. So I started blogging.
What is it when it ain’t the one, but neither is it the other either? Jalbatrossic maybe….
What we got here, with this particular permutation of the many possible combinations of the area’s deep and diverse musical human resource pool, an underground network known to none but one as “Llama-kin,” is pretty massive dump o’ funk. It ain’t quite funk neccessarily, but it sure do fit in there. It rocks, for sure, but for sure it ain’t whatcha call rock. It’s def “”jam,” generically I mean- it’s way jammier than funk or rock or any of the things that might get called “fusion” or, more broadly (and not unconfusingly), “a fusion.” Think of this, for example: a massive take on Paul McCartney’s “Jet,” with a driving, surf-punk intro section leading into an ‘organic’ reggae groove, just enough to befuddle the listener for just a moment, like:
“Wait, what, Wings?” Well, why not- these mostly 20-somethings, generally approaching or recently passing the 30 mark, (with a few fighting or resisting it) always seem to have a healthy smattering of all different decades in their pedigrees, going back to about 1970 or so. Their informing sources and backgroud resources will surely be found in the old-school jazz of earlier decades, and -I’m tellin’ ya, man, f’reels- these younglings have healthy respect for all forms and traditions, even as they launch from a fairly fusiony springboard (as in, early 70s). It’s the current jam-trend that really gives them the operating context to cut loose and cross over as freely and smoothly as they do, and funk is what it might be if something it must be and it can’t be something else, but a lot of the compositions subject to their interpretation (mostly improv, of course, a la le jam) are taken from the catalog of Rock. And it’s all instrumental, too.
I just overheard that I missed “Sledgehammer” … The Peter Gabriel song? I couldn’t help but butt-in; and, yeah. Bummer! So… to paraphrase (or just plain steal a phrase from) the British press, back to about those early-to-mid- 70’s of which we speak… “This is rock music that looks to jazz for permission to move outward.” The F-label hadn’t been coined quite yet, but bonus points to anyone able to name the band to whom the New Musical Express was referring when they said that.
Now, I KNOW these pics ain’t good for a whole lotta much, but one does what one can. Not much for lighting here in Bishop’s Lounge (3rd floor of the old Baystate Hotel on Strong Ave in Northampton MA), and my trusty SamTab has no flash and only a 2MP camera. You’ve heard this before, if you’ve been reading these adventures as they’ve gone along. I’d just as soon not have a flash available to me; I would have to remember to make sure it was always off (personal policy). Beg pardon for this repeating of info, but we’re moving out into the blog-o-sphere-at-large here at the Dusty Turntable.
Jalbatross is the labor-of-love-child of the Jalbert brothers, who come with history and lineage: Ryan, guitarist with national act The Motet; and Colin, Mammal Dap’s drummer. Somewhere over the last decade or so they plucked up Ryan Degres, another name of no small mention, for more guitar and Darby Wolf (we all know him, right?) on keyboards. Bass is by Rheese Williams, the newest to the fold with just a few years under his belt playing with these guys.
There’s often a lot of “swooshing” in this music, meaning a massive rushing of organ sounds, much like a good ol’ Hammond B-3 (no Leslie in sight, though). Which is not to say keyboards overtake or predominate the sound, just saying it’s a cool and refreshing twist. And it really makes for a massive sound, while giving the guitarists and the rhythm section some space to contemplate their next moves or maybe sort thru their feelings so as to determine which techniques and emotions they’ll choose to let fly in the soonly-upcoming future. Or maybe they’re just calculatng how to amaze the crowd- and they make it look so easy!
Wouldja believe right now they’re doing Michael McDonald? Take all the smooooth and atmospheric sweetness of the post-disco, groove-laden, Steely-schooled rhythm and loose-tight, L.A. super-session playing, add on a thick layer of low-end, rock-solid and massive punch (there’s that word again), and then… wait, what? Segway into Peg! -brilliant and welcome, an unexpected surprise that makes so much sense, it adds a dimension of enjoyment to the popular and stimulating sequence. Besides all that, the demonstration that is delivered could be applied to the entirely unanswered (and un-asked) academic question of what might Larry Carlton, and Lee Ritenour too for that matter, have come to sound like if they had continued to travel farther afield into abstract and free-form, heavy jazz-fusion, rather than the precise, pleasant, and certainly no less valid and beautiful, adult-contempory, sort-of settling-into their latter-day, elder statesmen stature?
Just thinking. And saying, too, that even as such comparisons are not to be made lightly, these boys are -or will be- at that lofty level of feel and technique, skill and sensibility, overall sound and overarching musicality. And to think, I had no idea what I was gonna do tonight- SO glad I caught this show! […too bad I had to ditch a drunk buddy to make this scene…]
That ol’ Theodore’ Blues, Brews and Barbecue on Worthington Street in Springfield… they DO do a good job, do they not?
Just last week they had their annual Customer Appreciation Party, with plenty of free food and Popa Chubby afterward.
Tonight, the Kings are playing a full show, replacing the usual Wednesday Friends’ Day Open Mic Jam (with Jeff King, btw).
They even have Mel fronting- this is always a good thing, but also something of a special surprise this particular time, as she is “with child” … in fact, I think she’s bopping around a bit less than usual, probably for fear of jostling the baby bump…
The band sounds real good tonight… Trying to sum it up for Jeff, what it is I find so pleasant and positive about their sound- kinda like the Van Burens in Boston (and all around New England, really, for now…): it’s uptempo and entirely danceable; it’s all generally under a ‘Party Band’ umbrella, but it’s Rock. Like, this is FM radio’s answer to House. It ain’t whatcha call Funk, not generically anyway, but it sure do have that kinda groove. And it’s fun- this is good-time, radio-ready rock, with plenty of tasetful covers surrounding the dozen or so of the band’s originals (which lack for naught in terms of quality), often including a few nods to tradition (like, say, “Know You Rider”), and a whole bunch of crowd-pleasers (such as “Shakedown Steet” and “Miss You”)- with a bouncy touch of soul in the mix, whether by design in the repertoire, or treatment as a matter of signature or putting their ‘stamp’ on the songs. Mostly, though, what these bands play is CLEAN… and it’s fun. There’s a genre for you: Good, Clean, Fun. Trying to put a finger on it, the words that come to mind, besides ‘clean,’ are things like ‘shiny’ and ‘plasticy’ – how to translate that? Lemme think about it, but you know it’s gotta be good listenin’ – and the punch, soul and groove that make it ‘funky’ are the same elements that make it uplifting as well as danceable. Really, there’s a spiritual component in the groove! This is what I hear in common with a few bands around NY≠ we’ve talked about this before.
Everybody sings, too. How often do ya see that- a full band with a front, a dedicated, center-stage and easy-on-the-eyes singer with style and charisma, who will pick up the acoustic 6-string every here-&-there, just to round out the sound a tad more- but everybody else sings a few numbers, too?!? Melissa takes a break once in a while, or she stays and strums and adds bgv’s; but if it’s ever just the boys,… no sweat, they got it covered. They each have a couple of ‘versions’ under their belts and at the ready for vocalization, and each band member has at least one of those original compositions, as featured on their CD from last year, to his credit; so the “Balance” of lead vocals is fairly evenly distributed and entertainingly executed. Except maybe Ed, the drummer- drummers almost never write, right? but when they sing, it’s because they can- so when the Kings unleash those couple of numbers where Ed sings, well… nobody heads for the door, anyway.
And then there’s the guitar. I know we’ve talked about this before, and we’ve focused on John Cantallini a few times now; and, speaking of good clean fun, check this guy’s sound and style and superior technique. Then, Tom Coburn’s keyboards add a lot too- of course- like, plenty of bands do just fine without keys; ya don’t even think about ’em… but then we hear the Kings, with all the depth and dimension that a competent keyboard player can bring; and we hear the particular parts as added by this particular player and lifelong learner, with an academic interest that informs his playing, and one can’t help but wonder, “how did I ever go this long without…?” See, it’s like sex! Thanks, man!
Finally, there’s that whole dancing thing. Gar-un-dam-tee-ya, there’s never a whole lotta sittin’ goin’ on at a Kings’ show; ir’s an unavoidable and infectious energy that spreads through the place, wherever I seen ’em play, so that there are rarely ever as many audients seated as up and moving.
There are times when only one person ain’t up and dancing- but only when Double-M is in the house… How nice to have a song dedicated to one’s own humble self, too- “White Rabbit,” beautifully sung by Melissa with a tasteful combination of tasty embellishments and admirable restraint as perfect accompaniment from each of the other band members.
Just “another” Tuesday night at the Waterront ? Not hadley!
Fairly full house here … on a Tuesday! … tis the season … besides, BUFFET!!!
No telling for sure if the extra bodies came for the free food; looks like not so.
But either way, they hang for the jams. Which is a smart thing, by the way –
I’ve been noticing the Ragged Edge boys get kinda “jammier” in the second
set, ‘specially towards the end. Guests tend to show up later on, too, which
seems to contribute to the community vibe. Tonight, for example, former
long-time Raggedy Drummer Jimmy Arnold showed up. This means
that Ricky Marshall can step out from behind the kit and spend some
time front-and-center-stage… coulda been a Backstreet Boy, man!
Hammond-meister Bob Toriani has himself into a new project, joining up with Night Train, featuring “Little” Gene Barsalou. Southwick Dave is on second guitar, and a couple o’ young guys for the rhythm section: Ryan Hastings and Corey Vandergrift, on bass and drums. They sound pretty durn good to me. I was a little concerned beforehand; like I’m axin’ Bobby, Mister O’Toriani that is, “This ain’t gonna be another one o’ them Old Man Blues Bands, is it?” He kinda didn’f say yes or no, but he did at least promise (or threaten) that they would be on the “heavier” side.
Hard-Rockin’ Blues-Rock Band… odd comparison here, but imagine if the James Gang had brought in a B-3 & Leslie player (not they would have had the good fortune to find one as good as Mr. T), and then consider the possibilities if their original guitarist (Glenn Schwartz) had stayed in the band when Joe Walsh came in. Schwartz was not so much the lead singer, but he’d have gotten stronger (one hopes) and come out sounding like this Little Gene feller. In either case, it’s mostly the lead guitar we’re all about here; well, that and the arrangements and overall feel of the sound, which is where a skilled organ-player can really contribute. Ain’t no way to fill out the sound in quite the same way- and without taking over.
Gene plays a Stratocaster, alla tonight at any rate. His sound is something like a garage-y Clapton, with maybe a low, snarly twang like a feller by the name of Al Perkins. The other guitarist, Dave, is a guy we’ve seen around this area plenty these last couple of years- at the Southwick Inn with Cold Shot and all them folks, or here and there around the juke-joints of Massachachusetts’ Deep South(wick). His axe is a Gibson SG, so if the James Gang comparison is to be continued, then we might say that Dave supplies the more Walsh-ish tones and textures. A few songs back in the set, they even fooled me into thinking “Funk #49” was gonna come of an intro, but it turned into a really excellent, newer number called “Trouble at Your Door.” Dynamite Johnny, from Boston mostly, and his power trio (most often consisting of Guy Devito and Billy Klock), is about the closest comparison to come to mind at the local level. Which is not to say there’s any same-ness, or that one is much like t’other; more like they’d go well on a bill together, in the right place and at the right time.
So this might not be your average wedding band- their sound is a little more, like, ruff-&-rugged; but it’s all done with a ‘smooth edge,’ so to speak, so that it’s all very danceable. This groove holds ‘way shy of what might be called ‘funk,’ but it just about hints at that kind of polished punch. Everybody here at SkyBox tonight is singing the band’s praises and repeatedly pointing to the dance-ability of pretty much every song. There’s the mix, too: lotta different kinda stuff comin’ outta these five guys, even a few I hadn’t heard before, EVER, that I know of anyway; and every one with their signature sound. Not a whole lotta bands going fof the double-dueling guitar attack these days, either, especially if they also have keys; so what we have here is a highly versatile assemblage of elements and abilities. And all that, working together, without any particular personality (even the band leader’s) coming out overly strong or upsetting the balance.
I have an idea… wouldn’t it be fun to travel across the country -and back- stopping every night at a different place, at least one per day/night, to sample whatever the local scene might have for music? The goal could be: live music every night in a different venue, for a full year and a complete lap around the continental 48. The reason this comes to mind at the moment, is that I figure it’s pretty likely that a good number of those stops would be in places just like this one, with an atmosphere and entertainment offering much like what we have here tonight…
Maddie Langlois @ Collegian Court
And yes, by the way, I am right back to where I was last night. The Collegian Court in Chicopee, it turns out, has music several nights of the week. Eavesdrop wowed ’em in the lounge last night, of course; but they more often have something a little more ‘subdued’ (I know, right?), and they usually put such a solo singer (who comes equipped with music tracks) into the main dining room. Lynn, the lovely and welcoming, freshly off-duty Manager when I came for Eavesdrop, told about this young lady who had ‘residencied,’ more or less, every Thursday/Friday/Saturday through the month of December. It sounded nice enough and, well, if one wonders- Lynn seemed really nice too. Mandy Langois, from right here in Chicopee, is but a wee lass, being a mere sixteen years of age, but when I first heard her singing, I quite naturally assumed her to be 28 or 30.
Maddy
With a voice that can certainly be called full, lush and very classy, and all the seeming skills of any sopisticated professional, this young lady delivers tonight’s holiday-heavy repertoire with all the aplomb of an advanced-level lounge singer, but one who does this as side-work to supplement her ‘real-life’ activity. In more conventional cases, that other activity would doubtless be a full-time gig as a jazz vocalist, probably with some touring ensemble of much repute. Really, she’s good. But this starlet-in-process is probably still in high school- unless she’s one of those amazing ones who finished school at age 12 and is now nearing completion of her first (or second) Bachelor’s (or Master’s) degree.
Collegian Court, Chicopee - Maddy in the Dining Room
Now, about the house… The Collegian Court has been a Chicopee mainstay for most of its many years, having reopened two years ago after a five-year hiatus. I had hoped to get a refresher in the establishment’s timeline and history, but coming in as I did at ‘prime time’ on a Saturday is not the best way to get ‘quality time’ with Hospitality staff… maybe (hopefully?) Lynn will come back to me before I leave. What I remember from my few visits here ‘way back when a girlfriend went to Elms College just up the hill, suggests that it is much nicer now, without having changed. Everything looks the same as ever, but one might guess that a lot has been done by way of refurbishment or restoration. The lighting is quite (but no too) bright; my recollection is of a dark, maybe even ‘dank’ atmosphere- although, in fairness, that could have been my own state of mind at the time. Some years later, coming in for dinner with another friend, I found the dining-room to be tending toward a certain aspect of over-the-hill roughness, as in almost dingy or ‘tired’ and ready for an overdue scrub.
Not so anymore; everything is clean and shiny; the place has the look and feel of a classic tavern or country inn such as one might happen upon out along the back-roads of who-knows-where in New England- say, out on Cape Ann or up around the North Shore; or out among the upper-crust Berkshires, like Sturbridge and Lenox. It’s nice to experience the sort of warm and welcoming comfort that comes with such subdued and sophisticated old-world surroundings, and with appropriate lighting levels so that ambience is enhanced. Too bright would work against the decor, losing the feel and charm; and too low would be dimly oppressive, as inadequate lighting will be swallowed up by an otherwise enveloping, lower-spectrum scheme.
The food looks great, too. I loves me some golumpki and pierogi, kielbasa and kapusta, as much as the next native boy of partial-German descent who grows up in a largely-Polish small-town setting. The plates I’ve watched go by have all been pretty ones, arranged as a chef would insist, and without any stray smears or splatters on the old-school, wide white borders of the mostly round plates. None of those odd-ish, oblong dishes here, the ones that force a limited arrangement and actually make for awkward eating. Soon’s I got some green to go ’round, I’m gonna be back here, that’s for sure!
Ol’ Kirk won’t quite come outta the shadows… Way in back... on the left
First time I seen him was right here at Black-Eyed Sally’s, prolly like a good two years ago when I was taggin’ after Tommy Whalen-what a great way to meet all kindsa’ musical peeps, ‘specially ones from far away… like, you know, Hartford and points way down south. One night, a Wednesday- that’s the Jam night here at Sally’s, and our guy Tommy hosts the thing once a month (3rd Wed)- so this one time, I seen this feller play the blues but with a fusiony flare, all fluid, sleek and and “shiny,” like Holdsworth (Allan, I mean); what with all these smooth, slippery, legato lines laying down so sweetly.
Myself, I dunno a legato from a leggy tamato but I see a few local guys play along such lines- Ken Kucza, f’rinstance;
or Brian (whatwas his last name, Lesse? used to see him show up at Theodore’s)… the feller who plays with the Kings’ Jeff and Ed when they do their Power Trio power trip- Gnome Sane?
So, that night in Hartford, I was thinking about this kind of playing while diggin’ the hell outta Kirk Rapport’s sound, and…
Then something went wrong and he was done. Not that I ever did find out if he was ticked-off or not, but I sure did like thinking so… my kind of guy!I wanted more, though. I watched for him any time I came down here, and sure enough-
tho guy is a real player. Plus, he gots this guitar that has the look of a progressive player’s piece- a Fernandez, real
good for sustain and sweet, melodic tones like a sax sometimes and all psychadelic at others. Fripp uses one.
Kirk Rapport has a band- who knew? The trio already has a trio of releases under their belt(s) over the last couple of
decades (again, who knew?), and now a new one- Facebook never lies; that’s where I saw the sleek-looking album art.
It caught my eye, then I saw Kirk’s tag, and HELLyeah, I pounced.
So, stay tuned-
CD write-ups in the works include this one and Dezu’s first-ever, “Colors,” and a smattering of stuff from around the area:
Outer Stylie’s “Into Being” took a few turns in the player, and Christina Cantalini’s newest release, “Dragonfly,” is pretty sweet.
We might even see a catalog-spective, once I get going on her earlier albums- and, speaking of fusion, a look back at hubby John Cantalini’s “Airtime” project oughtta be fun, too. I might have to slow down on the out-&-about action….
It’s been just about a month since Eavesdrop shared their effervescenf charm at Fitzwilly’s, so I was just about due. Tonight is thier second-ever appearance at Collegian Court off Cabot Street, a classic and classy tavern with lots of dark, cherry-looking wood-grain beams running overhead and all around on the walls of the Tavern where the trio is situated.
These ladies are going to be the reigning queens of a certain scene around the area before long, and before they move on up to the interstate circuit and beyond- give ’em a year, I say, just to round-out their repertoire with another half-dozen or so originals (maybe more; they are industrious) and continue the leg-work they are doing so well. That certain scene of which I speak is seemingly limitless as far as numbers of possible outlets, but might carry constraints in terms of compensation: I’m talking about restaurants, of course- there’s no shortage of ’em all around Western Massachsetts (or wherever one goes), and a touring circuit can be contrived to fit just about any logistical needs; but running close to the bottom-line, as an eatery does and must, leaves owners and managers with little leeway in the budget and scant few dollars to risk on enertainment that will draw sufficient to justify the expenditure. A band, on the other hand, will usually spend as little time as they can in such endeavors, working to ‘graduate’ as fast possible to nightclubs, theaters, and eventually arenas.
So… enjoy the classy taste and charm these three lovies offer while they take over this certain segment of the market, cause a year or two hence, it’ll take some money to pay cover charges and/or buy tickets. For now, though, the Eavesdrop trio is running a strategy that makes such sense that it seems both brilliant and obvious: Reign supreme on the restaurant scene! The feild is wide-open and fair game for any artist able to explore the avenue and maximize its offering, for long enough to ‘get around,’ gathering a following and building their brand. Not that the pond in question is a small one, but an enterprising young school of fish (or thought) can probably reach full potential fairly quickly and then head out to deeper waters.
Eavesdrop is on the rise, offering nothing but good vibes and a great sound with their high-spirited, acoustic soul music.
The Dusty Turntable 