Hello old friend. It has been a while since we have seen each other and I feel a little awkward. Will you still accept me? I know I have changed since we have seen each other. You have stayed true to whom you were. Has it been a year? I am coupling my anxiety about your acceptance with serious excitement; seeing you for the first time in a while makes me remember all of the good times we have had.
I don't know about you, but for me -- The Infamous Stringdusters appear to be on a roll. Red Rocks, A Grammy nomination, a new guitarist -- and an even newer mandolin player.. They have a new release expected in the spring on their own label, High Country Records..
Known for consistently booking some of the finest performers in new and traditional folk, roots rock, bluegrass and newgrass, and other American roots music, Suwannee Springfest returns in 2012 for its 16th straight year. Suwannee Springest will be held March 23-25, 2012 at the Spirit of the Suwannee Music Park in Live Oak, Florida and features some of the biggest names in the scene with veterans and up-and-comers alike.
The Grateful Web recently had a chance to talk to The Infamous Stringdusters' guitar player, Andy Falco, discussing their upcoming Festy Experience festival, some of the Stringdusters diverse musical backgrounds and why Yonder Mountain String Band would put a tear in the eye of the omnipotent
It was over a decade ago, when I was barely of legal age to gain entry into a bar, that I used to frequent a small, smoky bar in my native Long Island, NY, and used to catch the house band that played every Monday night. The house band was a blues, funk, and roots-rock outfit that played a wide array of music, and was known for the stellar musical prowess of its members. Anchoring this band was lead guitar player and singer / songwriter Andy Falco, whose slick bluesy electric guitar solos were an oft anticipated segment of each song.
The dusty road leads to an unseen location. Clouds of dirt and earthy grime pass through the air. As the dust settles and the road becomes steeper, Horning’s Hideout comes into view. “Happy Horning’s,” comes a chipper voice from my right. My window is rolled down and I turn to see a girl standing on the side of the road. She wears a neon-green shirt that reads “Volunteer”.
“Where should I park?” I ask her.
“Just keep driving,” she says with a devious smile. “You’ll find the way.”
I grinned and waved and continued down the rocky hill.