With a few nights off and a first-time tour stop for the band, anticipation was high for Dead & Company’s performance in the Duke City, and Albuquerque’s Isleta Amphitheater was to play host to the night’s festivities. Being the smallest venue of the tour, it was surprising that by Wednesday, ticket sales had just barely reached 10,000, and the virtual secondary market was showing multiple signs of over-purchasing. The site location sits at the edge of the city and resides at the base of a desolate mesa, surrounded by sparse housing and sagebrush. Pulling into the venue, one might have guessed that they had taken a wrong turn and had been transported back for the 1978 Egypt shows, as dark clouds blew a brutal wind out of the east and turned up the loose topsoil, resulting in a Southwestern dust storm. Doors had been advertised to open at 6 p.m. with a show time of 7, but as fans, seeking shelter from the unobstructed parking lot made their way through blinding sand, adorned in sunglasses and face coverings, they were met at the gates by security who informed all that the show was being delayed due to the weather. As the delay pressed on, the crowd continued to amass and grow restless, as more announcements were disbursed, stating the possibility of cancellation might indeed happen. Half an hour past door time, the faithful were finally given a sign of hope, as the sound check could be heard from the obscured and sheltered stage. This seemed to shift attitudes in the line that now extended from the security gate back to the upper parking lots. With the weather in mind, guesses could be heard among the tie-dye masses of what the evening might hold, throwing out speculations including “Easy Wind”, “Looks Like Rain”, “Black-Throated Wind”, and the like. Doors finally opened at 7:15 with sighs of relief and smiling faces as the rainbow gang entered the grounds.

The band took the stage just at a quarter to eight, and from the opener choice, it was clear that the band wanted to bridge the delay and anxiety with place recognition and familiarity. As the Rio Grande River sits only a few miles from the venue, the opening chords of “Mississippi Half-Step” was met with raucous applause from the receptive crowd and showed not only agreement with the selection, but that the audience was ready to revel in whatever the band had in store. The apex came in the song’s ending, with the crowd singing in unison the “Across the Rio Grand-eo” stanza and it was easy to see that both the band and fans had reconciled the distress of the afternoon, as smiles were exchanged from both sides of the stage. “Crazy Fingers” followed and continued to soothe the windburn with its lilting turns and watery progressions, as people swayed smiling and under closed lid. “Dire Wolf” was met with exuberance, and although some have complained about its slowed tempo, it came off with a rich, ragtime feeling that had everyone singing along and produced grinning exchanges between Mayer and Chimenti. Appropriately coupled, “Big River” continued the river reference and the good old get down and saw the energy level taken up a step. “They Loved Each Other” chugged along and warmed hearts as the evening sing-along continued. This version clocked in at over twelve minutes and nary a note was wasted on this anthem of positivity. “West L.A. Fadeaway” continued the theme of lengthy mid-set tunes timing out at fourteen minutes. Differing significantly from the days of Jerry, this bluesy number has picked up added measures of instrumentation between lyrical lines, offering showcases of each players’ prowess without pressure. It has been said that playing slow is often more difficult than playing in a quicker meter and bears the potential for more error to the intent listener. This aspect certainly seemed to keep the band in the moment, focused on the present note and not the future, which paid off with a syrupy version that was thick, dark, and sweet like molasses on a cool night. One surprise that no one, including the band, saw coming was mid-way through the song when a rather large, great-horned owl swooped out of the rafters above the lighting rig and over the pit before turning south and disappearing into the sunset sky.

The closer of the set was a pairing of “The Music Never Stopped” and “Easy Answers”. While the first piece got people dancing and visibly excited, the second saw many taking the opportunity to make for concessions and restrooms before the lines grew. “Music” contained some great interplay and the transition between the two tunes was energetic. “Easy Answers” is somewhat of a hard song to ingest. It seems that every time a band member takes an elevating solo, the listener is hit with more lyrics at its end, leaving no room for the audience to demonstrate appreciation for the completed task. This attribute appeared to cause some momentum loss. There also seemed to be some anticipation that the band would return to the ending of “Music” for one last climb before break, but alas, it did not happen, and Weir informed the crowd,” We’ll be back in just a little bit.”

Set break offered the first chance for many to realize how full the amphitheater had become, leaving many to wonder where the throngs had come from. The lawn by this point was about three-quarters full, and most of the reserved seats were occupied. Any remnants of the gusty afternoon had all but faded, as the clear, calm sky covered the venue in a tapestry of twinkling stars. The temperature could not have been better settling in at what felt like somewhere in the mid-70s.

A mere thirty minutes later, the band walked back out on the stage. Mayer set the tempo and counted off “Here Comes Sunshine” to open. It seemed obvious that this was yet another weather selection alluding to the events of the day and where we had come in perfect juxtaposition. It was performed well, both in vocals and playing, and included a small, but tight jam before its end. Up next came “Uncle John’s Band” with its personal lyrics and comforting score, a fan favorite for both these attributes, which drew the crowd in for their customary contribution of vocal accompaniment. As the lyrics drew to a close, the first spark of improvisation took hold with the enrapturing segment of the tune, taking the audience out to the edge for some eight minutes before returning for the final stanza. For the evening’s ballad, Weir strapped on his acoustic and led the crowd and band on a romantic journey of lovers with “Looks Like Rain”. The powerful soul of the tune was only surpassed by the crescendo of the piece as a fiery barrage of emotional notes from Mayer, bass bombs from Burbidge, Chimenti’s tickling keys, and percussive rounds from Kreutzman and Hart, fueled Weir as he called out “Here it come again” in the truest of Bobby fashions. Almost without a breath at its ending, the band dropped directly into a no-nonsense version of “Help On The Way”. By the time band broke into “Slipknot!”, the juggernaut was firing on all cylinders, the drummers grounding a tom-heavy foundation, tribal and deep, as the strings prepared to communicate with the cosmos, evolving ever further into the unknown. Returning to earth, the warm welcome of “Franklin’s Tower” and its simple progression painted smiles on every face and put dancing shoes on every foot in the house. The “Drumz > Space” segment offered those who chose to forego the bathroom break opportunity a continued exploration into a cosmic resetting of the soul. For this show at least, the focus of this portion seemed targeted at the embrace of sonic improvisation, rather than the jarring roller coaster of “passing the acid test” from days of old. Turning out of space came a sweet and smooth version of “The Wheel”. With its gentle cadence, the tune progressed in natural form. At one point, the band upped the tempo, and there seemed to be hints of “Mind Left Body Jam”, but unfortunately it didn’t go further than a few measures. The calypso ending showcased some great interplay between Mayer and Chimenti, as the two bobbed and smiled at each other over the grand piano. As anyone knows, a Dead show with a Dylan tune somehow makes it a little more special, and on this night everyone was treated to one of the best: “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”. The tune itself is moving, but what makes it more impressive is Weir’s ability to remember all the lyrics, in order, while playing, not to mention the enthusiasm with which he delivers the message. On this night, everyone took notice, and Weir reflected, smiling often into the first few rows of the pit as the faithful sang on. With plenty of gas still in the tank, the band took the audience out for one more sing-along before the night was over and appropriately chose “Good Lovin’” to end the date. Anyone who had been sitting now found themselves back up dancing, singing, and waving their hands in the air. Weir even timed one of his “Good Lovin’ shout outs” so that everyone except the band would call out “Good Lovin’”, further widening the grins on the faces and hearts of everyone in that venue. The final tune of the evening was “Johnny B. Goode” and sent the audience out into the parking lot with a pep in their step, where a vibrant shakedown street in full swing continued the celebration.

Although some tunes have been slowed down, the new arrangements, both in musicality and lyric, offer much more space for the band members to enjoy engaging each other. Through this dynamic, the band, albeit touring for the fans, comes across as genuinely enjoying sharing in the music and their own company. There appears to be no pecking order, and everyone is given the chance to shine, which is how it should be when you are playing with the best. This concerted effort seems also to create a focus of continuity for both the band and the audience, as little conversation or distraction was observed throughout the show. Also of note was the change in stage lineup, where Mayer was coupled to Chimenti rather than his usual place next to Burbidge. According to a post by Burbidge’s wife, Weir wanted him on his side “so they could connect better”. Regardless of the reasoning, the change certainly seemed to bring much joy to the new duo, as Mayer was often seen stepping to the keys to drive and encourage the exchanges with Chimenti that powered much of the improvisation throughout the night. Overall, this band continues to get better with each tour, with palpable enthusiasm for the music, fueled by each member. It is clear that this is no nostalgia act and that the heart that is poured out with every stop is genuine. The crowd in large continues to play its timeless role as counterpart to the band, singing along and offering gratitude for the auditory treasures bestowed upon them. If anything is to stop this band, it will be age, but even in the end of existence, the band and the music will continue to play on.

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Nestled in the north country of Colorado, lies yet another hidden gem of The Centennial State’s musical legacy: The Mishawaka Amphitheater. Set amongst towering canyon walls and located on the edge of The Poudre River, patrons are greeted from the road by a non-descript store front and privacy fencing, neither of which denotes the unexpected lying inside. Upon entering the restaurant, visitors are presented with their first inkling of the location’s long ties to music, as autographed, framed promotional pictures of performers past line the floor-to-ceiling wood interior in Fillmore fashion. Passing deeper into the heart of the century-old building, the room opens up into a dance hall, equipped with a small stage and high ceilings, able to accommodate about 150, and is utilized in the winter months for performances when the weather is far too cold to host events outdoors. The ballroom transitions to the outdoor deck, primarily used for dining and it is here that one gets their first look at the riverway lying at the foot of the property behind the obscured view from the road.  Descending a few steps, the tour continues onto the main grounds, a 360-degree spin revealing the jewels of the establishment: two elevated VIP viewing areas, a central, gravel-paved standing room only dancing area, and The Mishawaka Amphitheater stage, constructed from indigenous timbers and stones, literally hanging over the turning waters, all of which can sustain only 950 souls on any given evening. Although its appearance differs significantly from the God-inspired monolithic majesty of Red Rocks or the Urban legendry of The Ogden or Bluebird, the talent that has crossed the threshold of its doorways rivals these in comparison, while offering the small-town family intimacy akin to many of the locales of the region, setting up those in attendance for many of those cherished “pinch-me” moments.

Last Saturday, The Mish, as it is called by many, changed its role from rural honkytonk to gospel church with the first return in five years of Bruce Hornsby and The Noisemakers. Comprised of the usual suspects, including bassman J.V. Collier and “Master of the Staff” keyboardist John “J.T.” Thomas, both of whom have filled their slots for nearly three decades, as well as some newer faces, namely master shredder Gibb Droll on guitar, mandolinist and fiddler extraordinaire John Mailander, and trap-master Chad Wright, the band took the stage to the applause of a nearly sold-out house.

Getting things started, Hornsby opened the show with a pairing of his original “Across the Great Divide”, which built up a huge head of steam before transitioning into Junior Parker’s “Mystery Train”, propelling the crowd into a furious getdown, establishing that the revered band leader was ready to preach from his 88-keyed podium. Throughout the evening, Hornsby & Company covered the majority of his 1998 release Spirit Trail, including takes on “King of the Hill”, “Preacher in the Ring”, “Resting Place”, “Funhouse” and “Sunflower Cat”. With an extensive catalog, tracks of significance were pulled from other albums to fill out the set and involved such early standards as “The Way It Is”, “On the Western Skylight”, and “Jacob’s Ladder”. Surprisingly, for a state with such a large population of Deadheads, the Rocky Mountain venue was barren without any nods to Hornsby’s former bandmates. As the band is always open to and honors any requests, whether audible or written, this was more than likely a fumble on the part of attendees, as early on Hornsby noted that there had only been four requests. Towards the end of the evening’s single set, the band moved to folding chairs at center stage for what Hornsby referred to as “the front porch portion of the show”. Here, Hornsby utilized dulcimers and the trusty accordion, Wright replaced his drum kit for a washboard and spoons, while Mailander continued his use of the mandolin for accompaniment. Droll, Collier, and Thomas continued their contribution on their standard vehicles, albeit a bit softer, as the band journeyed through acoustic versions of “Every Little Kiss”, “Fortunate Son”, “Shadow Hand”, “Swan Song” and Van Morrison’s “Moondance”. This dynamic shift proved again the talent of the players, as acoustic play, or error, is far more transparent to the listener, finding no shelter in the coverage of effect.

 The takeaway from this evening was that after 30 years of performance, Hornsby still is having the time of his life. His grin is as wide as his talent, and neither seem to be waning. He continues to have a durable relationship with the members of the band that is emphasized by the unrelenting, well-timed musical exchanges that only come from hours of cohesive practice. The looks of joy and surprise shared on stage come off as genuine, not as a rehearsed schtick or parlor trick, a fact emphasized by the long-standing tradition of playing without a set list. This aspect most likely holds the deepest foundation from which these musicians find their joy on a nightly basis of surprises. Witnessing this group’s proficiency is anything but standard, as both the structure and improvisation leave the audience, and possibly the band, wanting more. As this group swings together through the spectrums of soul, jazz, funk, and gospel on their final three-week stint of the summer tour, it should be stated that, whether veteran or newbie, buying into this experience is no snake-oil charade, but authentic musical bliss, played from the heart, and shared on both sides of the stage.

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Located in the heart of the Old Town district of Fort Collins Colorado sits the city’s second-largest venue, the Aggie Theatre. Constructed in the early 1900s, the space originally was a furniture store before becoming a moviehouse and then morphed into a music venue in the 1990s. Since then, its use as a musical site for both local and national acts has earned a reputation as a favorite spot for the younger crowd and the often related weekend debauchery that follows. This infamy, in many ways, has resulted in limiting the type of acts that are booked as well as the patron demographic.

Over the weekend, the historical facade remained unaltered, but the soul of the hall had a change of heart. Instead of a standing room only, shoulder-to-shoulder dance party, the nature of this evening’s entertainment was directed at sending out an invitation to those interested in more quality than quantity and invited those willing to the first sit-down performance in recent history to a storied performance from the talented surreal troubadour of yore Leo Kottke.

For those unfamiliar with this legend, Leo Kottke has been creating, performing, and sharing his unique perspective for over five decades. A true renaissance man with a flair for exaggeration, deadpan, and overstating the understated while finding the sublime in the ordinary, this legend weaves tales from his pursuit of living into and between his original pieces. If his take on the world and odd focus weren’t enough to keep an audience entertained, his skilled handling of the 6 and 12 string guitars would surely do it. His style of music consists of both penned pieces and instrumental explorations, both of which carry a quirkiness and genius of lyric and meter that is both apparent and concealed and are delivered in an effortless fashion that often leave even a surprised look on Kottke’s face, as if to suggest that he himself found his expertise in execution unexpected.

From the jocose mind of Kottke, the intermittent tales of this particular evening on the Front Range covered a myriad of subject matter that kept the audience, as well as Kottke, engaged and audibly laughing throughout the set. One topic included the detailed development of calluses by musicians from years of playing and how the sweat and wet of New Orleans, specifically the famed stage of Tipitina’s, would dissolve the densest of hardened epithelial accumulations. Another point of observation was the floor material of the stage that Kottke analyzed to the audience as being remarkable, elaborating on the flat subject for multiple minutes, describing its texture and function in a way that made it seem far superior to the thousand other stages he had performed upon. Of course, in the 21st century, regardless of the audience, there is always someone who feels the need to capture the moment on their phone. To this, he asked the gentleman in the front row to make sure that he captured the whole song he was about to play because he was feeling like something big was going to happen and years later he would reach out to this audience member via social media to get a copy of that big moment so he could relive his glory days. Even the encore had its own comedic take, which took place sans a break from the song preceding it and was only determined as the end song when Kottke informed the audience of its designation. Following this announcement and the beginning of the end, Kottke continued in monologue about how he was trying to save everyone, including himself, from the endless clapping and chanting where everyone would act and wonder if he would come out for another song knowing full well that any musician would and that all the fanfare was a farce that everyone is in on and a colossal waste of time.

All schtick aside, what Leo Kottke represents and delivers is talent that exceeds expectations and boundary. Being somewhere between septuagenarian and octogenarian, his timing and delivery are beyond impressive, and his commitment to his art is reflected in his continued effort to play with complexity without falling to his laurels. His combination of humor with seasoned musical expertise is a fantastic dichotomy that presents the discerning ear with facets that both nurture the soul as well as tickles the funny bone all the while reminding that the serious can exist simultaneously within the context of the jocular.

Where many artists publicize their “big summer tour”, Kottke’s only consisted of four shows between New Mexico and Colorado and this dynamic seems to follow his droll to a tee, but for those who missed those four whirlwind evenings, fear not, as Leo Kottke returns to the road for a 24 night, multi-state run from September through November where he is sure to blow minds through everyday observations and the earth-shattering tones of his baritone voice and the acoustic guitar.

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Webster’s dictionary defines the word community as “a unified body of individuals with common interests living in a particular area” and the municipality of Fort Collins, Colorado may demonstrate this theme better than most conglomerates its size. From safe, city-wide bike lanes to a plethora of year-round family-oriented events and activities, the community is a common thread seen throughout the face of infrastructure as well as the citizenry.

Earlier this month, community was exemplified through the medium of music as this mid-size city with the small-town feel hosted their 15th annual NewWestFest in the heart of The Old Town district. Presented by the local music and arts-focused non-profit Bohemian Nights, patrons were given a chance to wander closed streets lined with vendors peddling wares from vacation getaways and fitness classes to tie-dyes and hammocks while partaking in food offerings that swung the spectrum of fair treats to the organic fair of local farms. As if these dynamics weren’t enough to get feet to the streets, the opportunity to take in over 90 live musical performances across seven stages, ranging from local to national acts, certainly did. Lastly, in motivating many to load the family up in the car and head into Colorado’s North Country, the fact that this event continues to be free, another indicator of the city’s focus on community, sealed the deal for the droves who turned out.

The weather Friday started with showers that produced the only rain delay of the festival but offered relief and set the tone for a cooler weekend that alternated between intermittent showers and clear blue skies. Regardless of the temperature, the streets were packed, smiles were seen everywhere, and music filled the air.

The music that was represented spanned many genres and included Americana, Jazz, Hip Hop, Latin, R & B, and reggae. No stage time was wasted either as, during many stage changes, 20-minute DJ sets offered attendees to keep the beat as they waited for the next act. Among the seven stages, each offered a varied showcase throughout the day and may have been intentional to keep people moving around the 10-block radius of the festival grounds. In attending multiple sets, certainly a noticeable trait among the venues was an introduction of a staff member of Bohemian Nights who would take the time to reference the importance of community and remind everyone how lucky it was to live in a town with a rich musical history, a thriving arts scene, and leadership that had an eye to the future looking to support the creative endeavor. Each band also would receive their just recognition including a brief history, as many had played the festival in the past.

Safety was also well thought out, as both local law enforcement and emergency medical services were stationed throughout. Bag checks were required at the largest stage, but even the small delay this created did not noticeably leave anyone devoid of fun. From a first-hand point of view, even though alcohol was being served through various vendors, there were no indicators that anyone was detained, nor were any acts of violence noted. A few people needed assistance for minor bumps, bruises, and dehydration and to all of this, the EMS responded quickly and graciously to ensure that the injured could get back to enjoying themselves as soon as possible.

Amenities were also of the highest quality. With water stations at every major intersection and indicated on festival maps and portable toilets that were cleaned nightly, not just emptied, it was easy to see that there was a drive to provide a quality experience throughout the day. Staff members as well as information kiosks were strategically placed so that anyone entering from any of the streets was able to pick-up maps or speak with someone directly about their needs or where they wanted to go.

Although writing about every set would result in a review that would fill pages denoting the endless joy that the live musical experience brings, maybe to the point of redundancy, there are a few sets that require honorable mentions. To begin, Tia Fuller, Grammy-nominated saxophonist, took the cake of most unique and inspired set from this opinion. Expectations were that her set would deliver some form of smooth jazz, but what flowed from the Library stage heralded more from the time of Be-Bop. With minor chords and long streams of consciousness reflected in notes, this brass maiden demonstrated that not only has she earned every accolade she has received but that her foundation lies with one foot in the roots of her craft with another stepping up to her own creative ascension. Fueled by substantial spoken-word interludes and a backing band of equally powerful and pronounced players, anyone standing within earshot of this set quickly made their way to the grassy knoll, taking in the forty-minute set, and in the end, wishing there was more.

Local act Whippoorwill also brought a great example of the talent found in this part of the Front Range. Their eclectic sound that intertwines elements of hard rock, folk and bluegrass are executed with a stage presence and with such a big sound that anyone who was conversing with their neighbors preceding the set quickly lost vocal interest and turned their focus stage side. This band in its usual formation is a three-piece, but continuing in the theme of community, called upon a local friend to sit in on pedal steel guitar and another, the producer of their latest album, to take up the bass role, expanding not only the breadth of the sound but also powering the noticeable joy and energy being felt between those on stage and those getting down in the crowd. For anyone catching this group for the first time, the only thing better than seeing their intoxicating dynamism on the largest stage of the festival is the potential of catching them in the intimate setting of a smaller local venue.

One of the biggest moments that reflected the future focus of Bohemian Nights came in the performance of 15-year old Julia Kirkwood, a long-time member of the Kids Rock initiative that is highly supported by Bohemian Nights. Kirkwood has performed numerous times at the festival, typically in an ensemble formation populated by other youth, but for this incarnation, not only did she perform solo, but the tune was one in which she crafted both the lyrics and melody. Before laying out the first chord, Kirkwood took the time to thank everyone who had supported her over the years and had provided avenues in which she could follow her dreams and passions and reminded everyone that it takes unity and focus on attaining the concepts of the heart and that no one does it alone. The tune she offered up as a solo acoustic piece, The Twisting Tree, had as much depth and felt as much of the music performed by her seniors throughout the weekend. To place the cherry on top of the sundae, Kirkwood was also placed as the opener for Bonnie Raitt, who has not only been a supporter of the Kids Rock Initiative but has in times past personally mentored Kirkwood on her path to success.

As the summer festival season draws to a close, attending the NewWestFest reminds the discerning music appreciator that environment and organization are as important as the musical content and that festival success is as much about the small details as the big acts. Although there is hesitancy to spread the word about this festival in order to preserve it from the masses, especially with its low-cost price tag, its attributes must be heralded so that others can also have their “first-time” experience and witness a gathering with soul whose main aim is the message with the party being a distant second. This trait makes this festival so family-friendly that many of those in attendance were in fact that, families and no man, woman, or child was seen without a smile or a good time, reflecting that Bohemian Nights for the 15th year has accomplished what it has set out to do in the community of Fort Collins.

Check out more photos from day 1 | day 2.

As everyone knows, the entertainment industry is littered with stories of excess and debauchery, and these tales extend from those with superstar status to the grassroots level. From the destruction of hotel rooms to limos outfitted with hot tubs to band members each traveling in their separate tour buses, we have all heard about the resulting effects of the vacuum of stardom. In the wash of these urban legends and anecdotes, it is often the altruistic ventures of our musical heroes that go overlooked, and it is of no surprise as we live in the age of sensationalism and shock journalism. But alas, these acts of charity are often the conditions that remind audiences that aside from the glam and fanfare, these artists are people too, and at the core share the same soul as the rest of us and the words they have sung are not mere lip service to humanity but are meaningful and true to their own and the shared perspective.

Last week, the people of Fort Collins, Colorado had the opportunity to witness the other side, the human side, of entertainment through the lens and talent of the jam-infused amalgam of The Contribution. Comprised of members from Railroad Earth, New Monsoon, ALO, Great American Taxi, and The Black Swan singers, this supergroup of musical aptitude came together for a three-night Colorado run to release their latest album, Wilderness and Space. This album, a follow up to their debut release, Which Way World of 2010, reflects that the outlook among these players falls outside of the formula of most groups, where producing a recording and supporting its sale through touring is typically the end result. Instead, the band decided to repurpose the approach with the perspective being on serving others, contributing as it were, rather than serving themselves. Starting in late 2017, The Contribution released single tracks periodically, in digital format only, and offered those who wanted to own the music the opportunity to give back in their own way. For every $ 0.99 digital download, the group would donate the money to a specific charity and for each of the seven tracks, the charity was different, including The Rex Foundation, Conscious Alliance, HeadCount, Rock The Earth, The Delaware Riverkeeper Network, The Breast Cancer Emergency Fund, and The Piedmont Land Conservancy.

The characteristic way the band tours also sets itself outside the norm. The Contribution is not a band that is out to play every major market and reach every listener but is more a communion of friends, sharing a musical language, and doing it for the fun of it. For example, outside of the three nights in Colorado, the band has no other dates on the calendar, and this sporadic play has been consistent since its inception of 2010, playing only a handful of shows annually to the lucky few who turn out to the intimate venues that house their exchanges.

For this particular night in the North Country of Colorado, The Contribution delivered a single 90-minute set to the intimate crowd of The Armory, a seated performance space at the edge of the historic Old Town District. Performing most of the new album, half of their freshman release, and a couple of covers, including Fleetwood Mac’s Dreams and The Rolling Stones Gimme Shelter, the tracks showed strong deliveries from each of the members and left the close of each tune filled with the warm applause of the audience asking for more. The performance as a whole was tight and well-executed, which was a bit of a surprise due to the infrequency of this conglomeration, but then again not in light of the prowess of its parts.

Following the show, the band dispersed itself among the tables of the hall and took to conversation and exchanges with the audience, talking everything under the sun and signing autographs. Looking out at this final scene of the evening revealed that The Contribution that was given on this night was not one-sided, but rather exchanged, as old friends were hugged and new friends were made for both the audience and the band. It must be mentioned that the omission of the who’s who that makes up this band was intentional, as it is not the celebrity or the association that makes these performances special, but rather the message and the community they spawn. In closing, if you see this band is coming to your area, consider yourself fortunate and do yourself the privilege of attending an evening of music that will remind you that we all have the opportunity to be a part of The Contribution we call life.

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For many, the name Jimmy Herring conjures up a multitude of moments that reflect the best in music proficiency. From his position in Colonel Bruce Hampton’s sonic army of the ARU, to his touring days with arguably one of Phil Lesh’s finest conglomerates of talent, The Q, to the innumerable amount of sit-ins and hired gun positions with The Allman Brothers, Phish, and the laundry list of notable geniuses in the music world, and finally his long-standing contribution with Widespread Panic, anyone who recognizes this man’s talent, knows that if you hear he is coming to your neck of the woods, set the date and plan on attending.

At the beginning of June, an announcement was sent out that made fans of the iconic ponytail and bearded smile sit up and take note: Jimmy Herring was unveiling a new band, The 5 of 7. Composed of both new and familiar faces, including long-time collaborators Matt Slocum on keys and Kevin Scott on bass from the 2017 incarnation The Invisible Whip, and adding Rick Lollar on vocals and guitar and Darren Stanley carrying the rhythm section, this new arrangement of players promised to deliver on different genres, ranging from R&B to jazz and everything in between, and this only fueled the excitement of the music community, especially with a 28-date, two-legged tour that would commence with a three-night Colorado opener and conclude in the band’s home base of Atlanta.

Following the opener of the tour at the Gothic Theater in Denver, the next stop was the intimate digs of Fort Collins' Aggie Theatre. Anticipation was high for the performance as not only was this a Friday night show, but it was also a Friday the 13th event under the glow of the full moon. Speaking with fans outside the venue, one excited listener also added that this was Herring’s 13th anniversary with Widespread Panic almost to the day, which for this group of faithful listeners elevated that feeling of something special was about to happen as they camped outside the box office under the marquee 2 hours before the show in order to secure their spot on the rail.

While the faithful waited out front, the band and their crew amassed in the back alley and in approaching them, it was easy to see that these were people who enjoyed the company of each other off stage as much as on, illustrated by the sharing of jokes and stories as they all laughed and enjoyed their own company. Speaking with the band before the show about their new jam vehicle, their excitement was tangible. Each of them remarked in their own way how much fun they were already having with just one night under their belts.  When asked about the outlook for the setlist, Herring stated that on their first night in Denver, they had not covered all the material they had been rehearsing, that the setlist would be evolving, and that they would continue releasing new material throughout the tour in an effort to keep the tunes devoid of the canning of their delivery. It was also expressed that they were elated by the turn out at the Gothic Theater, playing to an unanticipated nearly sold-out crowd on a Thursday night.

Another point of note was the passion these gentlemen exuded about their craft. In explaining the development of the band, each member separately remarked how frenetic this endeavor was in its preparation, revealing that although time was dedicated to working up the tunes, each band member had other commitments to other outfits, including King Baby, a band comprised of the bassist, guitarist, and keys, that continued to rehearse and perform gigs, all the while preparing for an extensive two month tour.

When asked about the choice of Colorado being the site of the start of the tour, especially in light of the kick-off of three shows within hour of each other, Herring stated that one of the first places he played out of state with Colonel Bruce Hampton was Colorado and referenced the early gigs and their numerosity on the stages, including both The Aggie Theater and The Fox, that he felt like this state with its good people and great vibe felt like a home away from home outside his southern comfort. Along the theme of the ARU and the man, myth, and legend that was Colonel Bruce, each band member expressed that if it weren’t for this cosmic maestro, The 5 of 7 probably wouldn’t have come to be. This was reflected in the fact that each of the players involved at one point or another, whether together or in different formations, had played with The Colonel and that experience, as described by each of these gentlemen, put them into a brotherhood that connected them both musically and philosophically.

Showtime finally arrived, and the audience was treated to a short 50-minute opening set by a young, keen ensemble known as King Llama. This trio, coming off a recent tour of South America, executed eight original tunes that displayed them as technical, talented and, from the style of their sound, an obvious fit to be paired with The 5 of 7. Heralding from Southern California, this outfit demonstrated that an opener can be just as with it as the headliner, and this fact echoed through the theater as audience members applauded each of their takes and were seen turning to each other with comments, raised eyebrows of surprise, and smiles.

A short 30-minute intermission followed as the stage change out proceeded and it was at this point that those who were there to solely catch The 5 of 7 came rolling in, filling the venue to three-quarters capacity, which afforded plenty of dancing space for everyone. The lights finally dimmed, and the unassuming members took their places to the sound of cheers, whistles, and applause from the anticipatory mass that had gathered on this lunar spook of an evening to get down and be a part of the unexpected.

What the band delivered was a two- and half-hour single set of fulfilled promises, spanning genres, originals compositions, and covers. The competency that this group shows make it hard to believe that they haven’t been playing together longer and shows just how seasoned each of the members are. The Leslie mastery and Clavinet funk of Matt Slocum left no one disappointed and conversely, everyone wanting more. Rick Lollar stands alone as a giant not only in his technical dynamic, but also in the role of lead vocals, and his enthusiasm was felt as much at the back row as it was to those captivated on the rail. Kevan Scott is undoubtedly the rumble and grumble of the band, laying down the low-end in a way that everyone feels a quaking in their bones, laying out rolls of notes and playing anything but conventional while maintaining the demands of the composed sections of songs whether it be the harder edges or the soft voicings. Darren Stanley’s tempo maintenance was exhausting in all the right ways to watch and listen to, as his energy never rested and his ability to swing from the back beat to the straight-ahead and back again never wavered and all the while sporting a Cheshire beam from ear to ear indicating that he was having as much fun as the 400 plus souls filling the room. Of course, there is Jimmy Herring. Many refer to what he does as “the wow factor”, but it could be easily argued as “the how factor”, as in how does one practice enough to be able to play with such unimpeded fluidity and focus as to not only avoid the misstep, but to lead and communicate melodically to four others at the same time, all the while creating something new through improvisation? Again, this is why for many when Jimmy Herring is in town, you go!

Wandering the venue, it was easy to see that those who had shown up for their induction into The 5 of 7 had stayed until the last note and when it was said and done, each participant stumbled out into the evening air with a grin as wide as the moon and a jig in their step as if their bodies were still reacting to the music and the barrage of melody that had entered through their ears and was yet to find its way out. The takeaway from this evening is that the audiences who decide to turn out for something new will not be disappointed and the formula of The 5 of 7 is as simple as one plus two equals amazing.

Historically, Legend is born out of greatness but rarely does greatness follow legend and the saga of The High Hawks is one such lore that has only just begun. The namesake is said to be inspired by a journey to a sacred space by a lone traveler who summits a mountainous apex whereupon, prepared to take part in the herbal sacrament, is met by a bird-of-prey on soaring wing who relieves this seeker of his cerebral transport, leaving him alone to reflect on the arcane and to derive meaning and his role in this experience.

Whether one believes this yarn spun by Vince Herman about how the vision for this band was seeded, what is certainly evident is that after three well-attended, high energy Colorado shows under their belt, The High Hawks are ready to rev up the second leg of their inaugural tour in a little more than a week.

On October 20th, following two shows in Boulder and Denver, The High Hawks migrated north to their final Rocky Mountain performance at the Aggie Theatre in Fort Collins and delivered their message with as much enthusiasm and expertise as they had the two prior nights, even in spite of a low turnout of about 100 souls. Although this would have diminished the steam of other bands, these raptors of the road took the opportunity to turn the evening into an intimate gathering and exchanged with the audience on another level, telling more stories and asking questions of those in attendance and extending their set time nearly 45 minutes past what the Boulder and Denver audiences got.

Anyone who has been a longtime fan of Herman and his incarnations knows that he has an affinity for the honkytonk, apolitical, folk, psychedelic and bluegrass themes, and this winged ensemble is no different. However, what falls outside the norm is how well-rehearsed and cohesive this band sounded on leg one of the tour, especially in light of the fact that live rehearsals commenced for a week prior to the first gig and that most of the music performed, with the exception of a few covers by Woody Guthrie, The Band, and Lead Belly, were new original numbers. With changing tempos and a plethora of lyrical arrangements to recall, these talented troubadours displayed mastery of flight of the produced musical lift and showed no visual or auditory signs that they were lost in the music or on stage.

Regarding the talent, each of these players seemed to be bringing their best and having a ball doing so. From the stage banter and tune descriptors, it was obvious that the material was a group effort, and this included everything from individual song penning to the refinement of composition, and no one person stood out as being more in charge or responsible for content or in wearing the leadership badge. The musical prowess and exchanges between the players kept the audience dancing, as well as the band at times, and generated smiles on the faces of everyone in the room. Another dynamic of the supergroup formula that is often overlooked is that when attending these conglomerative formations, one is often exposed to players that fall to the periphery of the staples of many fans. The standouts in this role were certainly Adam Greuel of Horseshoes & Hand grenades, Brian Adams of Dead Phish Orchestra, and Will Trask of Great American Taxi and Analog Son. This trio was as solid on their instruments as so many others who actively perform and are more well-known and repeatedly, these guys drew the direct attention of those in attendance on numerous occasions throughout the night. Chad Staehly delivered excellence on the keys and effortlessly accompanied and soloed in that way that a great player does, making it look so easy.

Regarding Tim Carbone: ‘Nuff said. This man’s talent as a multi-instrumentalist musician, lyricist, and producer makes him a great addition to any project he is a part of. Herman is a legend all his own, acting as musical patriarch as well as the cosmic reflector of that kid inside all of us each and every time he has an audience, both on and off stage, pulling in those around him on some kind of adventure, whether metaphorical or visceral, and blurring the line between it is for the entertainment of others or just himself.

The Aggie crowd also received one last surprise, which actually came as no surprise at all when one considers the musical community that exists in Northern Colorado. Couple that dynamic with the players in question here and some bird-of-a-feather is bound to show up. To close out the evening, the band was joined for the final two songs by Dave Bruzza of Greensky Bluegrass, who, as expected, was given as much leeway as the others to show off his talent and had the other members lining up to exchange solos accordingly, each ending in raucous bouts of laughter and ear to ear smiles.

Starting on November 7th, this band takes flight once again through the Midwest, making only four landings in Wisconsin and Illinois and after that, it is anyone’s guess when or if these fine feathered friends will set out for another jaunt across the skies. So, if you are looking to expand your horizons and need some lift from some new musical thermals, this band is willing to lead the way across an aerial migration, if only for an evening, towards warmer times as the cold of fall and winter set in.

Check out more photos from the show.

Last Thursday, the Connecticut-based quartet Goose found its way back to the familiar nesting grounds of Fort Collins, Colorado and the Aggie Theatre. Playing to over 300 patrons, the band and its loyal flock took flight for two sets and nearly three hours of originals, covers, and enough improvised jam in between to suspend the belief that human flight is impossible.

Comprised of Rick Mitarotonda on guitar, Peter Anspach on alternating keyboards and guitar, Trevor Weekz on Bass, and Ben Atkind on Drums, this tour de “fource” is breathing their young life into the music scene with such passion and observable joy that it is no wonder that, when talking to many in the crowd, fans are traveling from out of state to catch their inspiration. Doug from Wyoming put it best, stating,” I am trying to catch these guys as much as I can in these small venues before everyone catches on to what they are doing, and the intimacy is lost to success.” Sadly Doug, but great for the band, this dynamic may be coming to pass sooner than later, exemplified by the group’s annual holiday festivity, known as Goosemas, already being sold-out months ahead of time to one of the largest venues they have played to date.

Seeing this band for the first time, it is obvious that they are in this for the long haul. From traveling with their own full lighting rig, lighting director, and Front-of-House sound engineer, both of which hold their own, while also recording in audio and video for the after-market, the group is setting stones that will pave the way to a future that will secure the passion they all obviously share, reflected not only in their talent but the grins and guffaw they displayed throughout the night.

Although there are hints to the influences of their past in the music, the original take that these gentlemen are putting on the music world is genuine and set themselves apart as being innovators, making their creation their own and not a rehashing of used language. Their ears are wide open, and the unspoken communication carries the tonal conversation with no awkward pause and continuously keeps the listener engaged.

So for all the live music fans out there like Doug, who want in on the new thing and want to be able to say,” I remember when these guys used to play in that little theater…”, now is the time to get your wings and check out Goose. You won’t be disappointed and the view is audibly amazing.

Check out more photos from the show.

“Guitarmeggedon!” That is one of the words used by Devon Allman to describe the sheer volume of talent and amplitude displayed at Denver’s Mission Ballroom on December 8th. The metropolitan’s newest venue played host to the Allman Family Revival, a conglomerate of the Allman Betts Band and a rotating stage of support that included 17 faces from the music world, including both well-known veterans and some new faces on the scene.

The Allman Family Revival has been an annual event for the last three years, but 2019 was the first time it has been taken on the road, with dates in San Francisco its usual home, Denver, and New York. Not only did Denver get shown the Southern love, but this night at The Mission would also fall on what would have been Gregg Allman’s 72nd birthday. This fact was repeatedly referenced in celebration throughout the night by both band and guest and added an additional emotional component for many in attendance who stated they had seen the Allman Brothers Band many times over multiple decades.

To blur the lines even further between past and present and reinforce the theme of family revival while adding an ethereal component, the fact that both Allman and Betts have such a striking resemblance to their fathers, it was easy to find oneself doing a double-take when gazing stage ward. This genetic characteristic also spilled over to the remarkable likenesses that Berry Oakley Jr. and Lamar Williams Jr have to their patriarchs, both of which filled the Allman Brothers Band bass role consecutively from the band’s inception through to 1976.

The evening got started with a single five-song set of original Allman Betts Band tunes from their debut album, Down to The River, and closed with the ABB classic “Blue Sky.” This band, fronted by the progeny of greatness, has enlisted equals in every respect. Outside of Allman, Betts, and Oakley, the seats are filled by Johnny Stachela on slide guitar, a stoic master of the bended note, John Ginty on keys and the Hammond B3 organ who effortlessly swirls that gospel sound and drives the drone of the undercurrent, and carrying the rhythm are R. Scott Bryan on percussion and John Lum on the kit, both of whom would give Butch or Jamoie a run for their money.

Following the opening set from the septet from the south and without leaving the stage or taking a break, the band continued, welcoming Eric Krasno and Dickinson Brothers of North Mississippi Allstars fame, commencing on a collaborative evening with a 13-minute rendition of The Allmans original “Dreams.” Next up was the NMA original from their latest album, titled “Up and Rolling,” a bluesy number that told the tale of psychedelia through mushroom tea and friendship. “Ain’t Wastin Time No More” and “Trouble No More” followed and saw Lamar Williams Jr lead the band vocally through the Allmans blues catalog as Luther Dickinson, Krasno, and Betts alternated leads over the bluesy foundation the rest of the band was laying down. Following the shred fest, and to great applause from the crowd, Devon Allman let the crowd know that “it was time to bring up some young blood to keep the evening moving,” and welcomed Ally Venable, a Texas spitfire on the guitar with vocals to match, and the familiar kid slide Taz Niederauer to the stage.

Taking the lyrical lead, Venable delivered a version of “The Thrill Is Gone” for the history books and showed the crowd her old soul and honed chops, exchanging all the while with the sonic mastery of Niederauer with his skyward gaze and contorted grimace of emotion. “With A Little Help from My Friends” upped the energy, and another new face was introduced to lead the way. J.D. Simo, with his ruff and gruff presentation, took the song over the top like a young Joe Cocker while being backed by all the musicians introduced previously plus the addition of talented bluesman Jimmy Vivino. At this point, the turn of guests alternated again, and Eric McFadden, as well as longtime Gregg Allman collaborator and frontman for the 70’s band Wet Willie, Jimmy Hall, were brought center stage to deliver the blues in true “going to church” Sunday form. “Ballgame On A Rainy Day” by Earl Hooker and “Keep On Smiling,” a Wet Willie Song, were the sermons of choice, and Hall held each ear in the room in the palm of his hand, while McFadden showed his talent on the hollow steel body. Taking the blues to the funk, G. Love was welcomed out next and presented his fusion tune of “I Like Cold Beverages” that got the not only the crowd hopping and smiling but the stage players as well.

As if the joy of the room couldn’t be taken any higher, the opening ditty of “One Way Out” seemed to do the impossible, and the crowd erupted in acceptance. The exchanges between Hall and G. Love on harmonicas and McFadden and Vivino on guitars were unrelenting and dispelled any idea that the performance was anything but created in the moment and full throttle. Giving everyone a chance to catch their breath, another upbeat blues selection was dialed up in the Allman Brothers original “Come and Go Blues,” this time being led by Charlie Starr of Blackberry Smoke on guitar and Lamar Williams Jr. on vocals. This gritty number showcased Williams’ talent, and emotion and Starr’s credible leads were pulled off seemingly without effort through his laid-back effect and classic presentation. Closing out the set, the group ushered in the Roy Orbison classic “You Got It” with none other than Alex Orbison, son of the late great and skilled talent in his own right, carrying the tempo on the kit and making his dad proud. With the final notes of the tune, Devon Allman announced, after nearly two and a half hours of consecutive music, that the band was going to take a break and get ready for round two.

Meandering between sets, it was clear that all that had shown up for the Sunday show were more than satisfied with their decision and were ready for more. Amongst the crowd, local musicians could be spotted as well, coming out to catch this fantastic caravan of talent, and included members of both the Kyle Hollingsworth Band and New Mastersounds. The age range of patrons was not limited to the upper end of the chronological spectrum and included equal distributions of both years and gender.

Thirty minutes after the stage went barren, a seemingly short span following multiple hours first set, the house music went silent, the lights dropped, and the crowd assumed its role in ushering back to post the players and whatever they had in store. With still so much material left on the table, the set opener was anyone’s call. It quickly became everyone’s joy when the Allman Betts Band backed by Luther Dickinson and Robert Randolph laid out an 18-minute version of “In Memory of Elizabeth Reed.” With all its psychedelic twists, jazzy flares, and thundering drive, this interpretation brought as much ecstasy to the stage as it did the floor as players played under closed eye and then reconnected with goosebump grins and hearty laughs. The revolving door continued, and Niederauer and Cody Dickinson joined the group. After that, Randolph played bandleader and led the group through his original “The March,” a powerful instrumental with several breakbeats and changes that reflected the prowess on the stage. Hall and Vivino were brought back to join the already present giants to deliver on another Allman's classic in the number “Done Somebody Wrong.” Again, Hall’s expression on the harmonica had the house stomping and getting down while the slide trading between Niederauer, Randolph, and Vivino reached the point where joyful laughter was involuntary. No one could control their inner child dancing the night away. Although it seemed that all the talent in the house had already been brought to the stage, there, of course, was Mohr.

Todd Mohr, of the renowned Big Head Todd and The Monsters, came front and center and delivered on his original “Circle,” which displaced any thoughts that this man was a one-hit-wonder or a pigeon-holed talent, as his playing and vocals came through with such verve that anyone unfamiliar sat up and took notice. He then continued his contribution leading the band through a well-executed version of “Melissa,” taking lead vocals while Devon Allman played a white acoustic guitar adding the classic feel of the original recording. Having given the band and audience a chance to reflect in the softness that was yet another side to the Allman Brothers legacy, the evening’s energy was far from waning and was taken up a notch with the introduction of Cheap Trick’s Robin Zander who closed out the set with “I Want You To Want Me” and a rousing version of “Ramblin’ Man,” both of which were presented with the expected rock-and-roll flare that Zander embodies in his guitar playing, vocal command, and sheer stage presence.

The stage quickly cleared, and the audience began its customary chant for more as the clock ticked past midnight. It only took a few minutes for the crowd’s call to be answered as the stage filled once again to close out the evening and send the faithful out into the night. With Zander once again at the center, the band, which now consisted of everyone who had played throughout the night, began the 1978 Cheap Trick original “Surrender’, which had the audience singing right along with Zander, who offered up the opportunity for the audience to sing without musical accompaniment the resounding chorus, lifting the spirits of the crowd through a singular unified voice. This dynamic continued with the second encore choice in Roy Orbison’s “Pretty Woman,” that provided an opportunity for Todd Mohr to do his best Orbison vocal impression, bringing, even more, grins to both sides of the stage. Finally, and appropriately, referencing both the time and notion of hitting the road, the group drove a jammed-out rendition of Midnight Rider to send everyone home with a final tip to the southern comfort of the Allman Brothers heritage.

In the end, the Allman Betts Band and the revolving cast of contributors delivered a night to remember, playing 4 hours of music and honoring not only the memory of The Allman Brothers Band but also the spirit of live music itself and the community and camaraderie that it spawns. This night was not about one person, one band, or one time. Instead, it was about the timeless dynamic and ineffable language that melody and lyric bring and how these components connect family, friend, and stranger without division, reminding that we are more alike than not, and we are genuinely in this life together. 

The Allman Family Revival’s third and final stop of the year is at New York’s famed Beacon Theatre on December 28th, but one can bet that with the reception the band got from the Mile-High City, this event will be back next year. Even if you can’t make The Revival, rest assured that The Allman Betts Band shows no signs of slowing down, and after the success of their 2019 world tour, one can expect more tour dates and original music in their immediate future.

Check out more photos from the show.

Last Thursday, the Aggie Theatre in Fort Collins, Colorado became ground zero for Marco Benevento’s winter tour and the beginning of a three-night run through The Centennial State. Backed by the usual suspects Karina Rykman on bass and Dave Butler on drums, the trio delivered a 90-minute set of tunes pulled from each of Benevento’s solo releases.

The night began with a journey skyward, as the trio ignited the evening with Send It on A Rocket, a track off of the newest album, Let It Slide. This song has an ethereal, multi-layered beginning but transitions midway to extensive soloing and rousing crescendos before returning to solid ground. At its close, it was clear that those who chose to brave the cold and snow to attend were in for a treat.

From the opener to the encore, it was apparent that this was no warmup show and that the group was well-rehearsed and prepared to make each choice count. Attendees were taken on a sonic rainbow ride that captured every auditory color and feeling on the spectrum. From the frenetic to the reflective and everything in between, there was something to suit everyone’s taste, and no one had a naysay about the evening at its close.

Listening to the selected tracks, one can clearly hear the influences and decades that have shaped the group, spanning from the bubble-gum pop psychedelia of sixties mainstream, the heavier tones of 70s rock and funk, and the progressive synth stylings of the eighties, all the while being accented with twists of jazz and that original sound that Benevento’s constructs bring to the table. The simplicity of the pieces in their builds allows for the opportunity for improvisation and the band took full advantage of these moments. The music is not wrought with overthought and its seemingly intended point is for sheer joy for the band and the audience equally, easily discerned by the guffaw and amusement of everyone in the room.

Any noted bandleader is only as good as their support and what Benevento gets is a foundation that stands the test of time. Karina Rykman, at only a quarter-century, lays out the bass lines with the ease and ears of an old soul, not only carrying the underlying melodies but improvising as well, all the while looking for and reading the collaborative moment for the opportunities to stun anyone in the room through low-end decimation. Add her songbird vocals and her ability to finesse the phrase with the lightest touch, she is a formidable force that draws as much attention stage ward as anyone she shares it with. With a bass amp that almost equals her own height, Rykman delivered, quaking the walls of The Aggie as well as the bones of the audience, rattling both in pure delight throughout the evening. Her stage presence equaled her talent as her beaming grin and active theatrics, including running, jumping, and pivoting her bass above her head in pure rock and roll fashion, pulled the audience further into her bubble of joy.

Dave Butler, master of brass and skin, tooled out the tempo throughout the night without break or fatigue. Whether laying out straight-ahead timings or delivering on the backbeat, conjuring the jungle spirits through the floor tom or the middle east mystics from the golden cymbal, Butler works equally as hard to keep the sound fresh and alive, never resting on the laurel of repetition or the mundane. His solidarity was often further reflected by his concrete juxtaposed delivery to the synth beats delivered by Benevento, showing that his focus was not only on his own active mechanics but also playing ears wide open. Much like his compatriots, his outward expression mirrored his internal dynamic throughout the night, as his faced glowed with pleasure, twisted in the moment’s raw energy, or found itself somewhere in between.

From start to finish, the man behind the top hat and sunglasses took time to execute his penned pieces with the love and respect one would expect from any musician who is engaged in the performance for passion's sake and not actively seeking the need to be the next big thing. Benevento delivers his lyrics and singing with a confident innocence that shows that what he is doing means more to him than just another night on the road making another dollar. His creativity is exuded throughout his catalog, as no two units could be confused as one another, nor does his works categorize him as having a specific sound. His talent in vision only takes a close second to his skill and conveyance on the keys, where he actively and continuously shapes and accents the moment to the liking of both himself and those listening in. With true showmanship in mind, Benevento took time throughout the evening to engage with the audience through conversation, recognition of “the old school” familiar faces, and actively involving patrons in vocal accompaniment on multiple occasions.

At about a third of what many concert tickets go for today, the price of admission is well worth the cost and the payoff exceed expectation. As of today, this group has four days off until setting out on the remaining east coast and southern dates of the winter tour, leaving plenty of time for fans and unfamiliars to pick up tickets and take a ride that will leave one feeling happier, refreshed, and a little less burdened by the grand meaning of it all, but rather reminded that time, that one thing we all have, should be used for fun.

Check out more photos from the show.

Certainly, one of the hottest tickets over this past weekend in Fort Collins was to the performance of the legendary revolutionary Ani DiFranco. Performing at the newly renovated and intimate setting of Washington’s in the Old Town District, DiFranco’s return was highly anticipated by her loyal following, reflected by the fact that her show sold-out the first day tickets went on sale.

Arriving to the venue an hour before showtime, there was already a congregation of about 100 faithful souls standing out front, ranging in age from 9 to 90, bearing the brunt of sub-freezing temperatures in hopes of guaranteeing themselves a spot as close as possible in order to catch the inspiration and energy that is this outspoken troubadour of everything under the sun.

By the time the lights dimmed for the opener Jesca Hoop, it was clear that all 900 tickets that had been purchased months ago were being put to good and proper use as the descriptor “standing room only” took on the most literal of meanings. Hoop, being cut from the same tapestry as DiFranco and other folk artists of yore, delivering quality and heart-felt 45-minute set of interwoven tales and original acoustic music, each followed by warm and welcoming applause of appreciation from those in attendance.

With a short 30-minute intermission, the hall was full to capacity and as the house music dropped, the decibel level of audience fanfare rivaled that of a venue three times its size. The call to arms only increased as the firecracker performer moved center stage with an ear to ear grin and a gaze that seemed to attempt eye contact with every face in the room. As she took the microphone, the audience quieted, and DiFranco proceeded to thank the good people for having her, erupting the room once again, simultaneously broadening the Cheshire grin already stretched across not only the performer’s face but of every face in sight.

Before another word or eruption could ensue, DiFranco on guitar, vocals, and perspective, Terence Higgins on drums and brushes, and longtime collaborator Todd Sickafoose on bass launched into God’s Country. This piece, heralding from the early ’90s and the onset of Ani’s career, was met with accepting applause and soon began the sing-along dynamic that would carry on throughout the night.

With over 20 studio albums, the amount of material Ani has to pull from is almost incomprehensible, especially when considering the act of sitting down and writing out a list of songs for a 90-minute set. For this evening’s performance, she pulled inspiration dating back to her first release in 1990, her last release in 2017, everything in between and, in true innovative fashion, a credo of continued growth and reflection that DiFranco lives by, two new debuts, Simultaneously and Revolutionary Love. In the end, 18 total tunes were performed, and the hall remained as explosive and full by the end as it had been in the beginning.

As the crowd let out into downtown, hugs, and smiles were exchanged between both friends and strangers, as each were reminded in the afterglow of the performance that life is fleeting and that this moment is the only we have. For many, traveling for the revolutionary revelation was a bike or bus ride away, but for some, the distance home covered one or more states. In either case, the shared experience and journey, their own as well as the storied tales from the stage, were equally epic and full of potential and it is the wellspring of community that reminds us that we equate more than we differ.

For three decades, Ani DiFranco has remained as true to herself as when she started. She continues to hold the torch and speak against the darkness that infiltrates culture and vehemently acts as a beacon that one person can make a difference. She holds no punches when she tells it like it is and speaks to the fact that being aware ain’t easy and taking action born from this seed is often even more difficult. In the end, this vision and reminder are what individuals seem to keep coming back for. As Fort Collins was the tour opener, there are numerous dates still to follow for the unending creativity that is DiFranco’s life and in each stop, a whole lot more message and inspiration to go around.

Nearly two decades ago, one of the most unlikely supergroups took the stage for their first performance and by the time they finished their set of originals, the jam audience was already asking for more. That request was answered with a single month-long tour over a year later, and with the exception of a single one-off show, the beast was put to rest, but not forgotten.

Since then, the musical world has been waiting for and continuously requesting the return of one of the most interesting aberrations of talent ever formed and this past weekend, the first sighting of the aqueous three-headed creature rose from the depths of their own musical murk at Colorado’s 1st Bank Center.

Oysterhead, composed of the talented King Freak of the bass himself Les Claypool, guitar virtuoso and royalty Trey Anastasio, and the legendary wizard of syncopation Stewart Copeland, unleashed the creative monster on a two-night sold-out crowd just west of Denver.

For the sake of nostalgia, it should also be mentioned that this would be the first performance of the trio in Colorado since that solitary tour in 2001 when the band played back-to-back nights at The Fillmore over the Halloween holiday and saw Anastasio don Fishman’s dress, Copeland paint himself Hulk green reflecting the creature inside as well as the fleck of his drum kit, and, per the usual, Claypool touting a pig-headed mask to round out the dark feel of the music and the All Hallows Eve celebration.

With little to no information, it was anyone’s guess of what the band would bring to the table and speculation ran high if setlists would differ between nights, if audiences would be treated to multiple sets, or if new music would be gifted by the band, especially in light of the recent Instagram post by Copeland, asking “Oysterhead heads” what covers they would want to hear, mentioning such bands as The Doors, Cream, Primus, Phish, The Police, and more.

2/14/20

Around 8:30 pm on Valentine’s day, after months of wondering, answers began to be revealed. The band entered the stage under deep purple light and a prerecorded looping that set the tone for the evening. The crowd welcomed the trio with deafening, raucous applause and with this, the band made quick work of getting down to business. Building off the loop and adding fills and feedback, creating a lengthy intro, the syrupy drone eventually morphed after several minutes into the song “Little Faces”. As this is the opening track of The Grand Pecking Order, the only musical product this conglomerate has produced, some wondered if they might just play the whole album from start to finish. As the tune reached the end of this well-executed rendition, and with a “Tommy the Cat” lyrical tease from Claypool taboot, the band phased into “Mr. Oysterhead”, putting the complete album theory to rest, but reassuring the crowd that what the evening had in store was going to be nothing short of incredible. The band continued to deliver on “Polka Dot Rose”, a segueing “Radon Balloon” / “Grand Pecking Order”, which showcased Anastasio switching it up with a Stratocaster, and a royal version of “Rubberneck Lions”, all of which were displayed with an energy that showed that the group were just as excited to be back together as the audience was to have them.

As the band put the finishing touches on the lengthy and exploratory set-closer, another ruminating question was answered as the men left the stage after six songs and what seemed much longer than an hour of playing, signifying that the evening would hold multiple sets and that there was so much more to come.

Following a 25-minute intermission, the group returned and again were welcomed by the masses who were looking for an earful of oddity and the three amigos were happy to oblige. Claypool reached for the stand-up bass this time and the group moved into a nebulous intro jam building over several minutes before transitioning into the dark tale of a soldier’s return from Vietnam in the tune “Shadow of a Man”. Clocking in at nearly a quarter of an hour, making it the longest song of the second set, the music continued to show no signs of waning or deterrence from the onset of the night and in fact continued to climb to dizzying heights as if these masters of mystifying modalities knew no boundaries and were destroying any limit that got in their way. This dynamic was further confirmed as “Shadow of a Man” transitioned into “Army’s on Ecstasy”, and at its close, the pairing finished out at nearly half of the whole second set’s time.

With nothing short of amazement and talent, the set continued to exceed expectations as the inhabitants of the 1st Bank Center proceeded to get down with a fervor that mirrored the euphoria being dropped from the stage. “Wield the Spade” was the next selection and saw Copeland leave the kit and take center stage to deliver his theatrics and enthusiastic rendering while Anastasio returned to his earliest musical roots and delivered as turbid timekeeper for the thick and muddy number.

Up next was “Birthday Boys” and began with banter and quips between Anastasio and Claypool before beginning the tune, bringing laughter to the arena and reflecting the genuine joy that the two were sharing on stage. The comedy continued as Claypool referenced his latest tour with heavy metal giants, Slayer, and added his own attempt at tackling a stanza of Birthday Boys lyrics via his best Slayer impression. At songs end, Anastasio speculated that Slayer probably would NOT have considered Claypool’s take as “the Slayer version”, to which Les replied it was “probably more the Lighthouse version”, while Anastasio further clarified it was more likely “the Flock of Seagulls version”.

Getting back to the seriousness of it all, the set continued with “Oz is Ever Floating” and the rambunctious, shred fest of a closer “Pseudo Suicide”, leaving the audience spent, grinning, and cheering for more.  In some concert situations, the encore seems to be the afterthought, but here the cephalopodan of the surreal continued the festivities with debuting “Voices In My Head”, a tune from The Police, “46 Days” by Phish, and the final unplayed track of The Grand Pecking Order, “The Owner of The World” with its upbeat blues fervor and a “Smoke on the Water” tease, all of which totaled 17 minutes.

2/15/20

At the onset of night two, more questions and speculation arose as to how the nights would differ and what if any new surprises would be pulled from the bag of tricks, especially after the welcome the band received following their hiatus. Some thoughts included the unveiling of a sophomore album or heavier indulgences from each of the member's main staple projects. Either way, it was easy to see arriving at the venue two hours before doors, that there was already a mass gathered awaiting entry in hopes of securing a spot stage-side for what was surely going to be an unforgettable encore performance to the night prior. For many standing in the cold, there was no question whether securing tickets for both nights was overkill, as it was often stated that who knows when this band will return to the road following the handful of announced dates, as it could be another 5 to 14 years, and for anyone who witnessed night one, no one was blaming anyone for the overindulgence. In fact, many who had attended night one were already talking about hitting the California shows to take in as much Oysterhead as possible.

Doors opened at a quarter past seven and excited fans flooded all levels of the 6000+ venue, each with a plan in mind for sightlines, sound, or the best combination of both. The audience demographic included both genders, with an expected tipping towards the male, but not by much. There were patrons from both the Primus and Phish camps and the ages included equal parts from the old and new schools.

By half-past eight, the once vacant room was full and energized as the feeling of the unexpected and anticipation once again filled the air. As anxious calls, whistles, and cheers rang out under the familiar caliginous purple lights, the house music went silent and the crowd came alive, audibly embracing the band as they took the stage to the similar sounds of loops and feedback experienced at the onset of the night before.

This time, the band called on their friend “Mr. Oysterhead” to start the night, coming in at eighteen minutes, making it not only the longest selection of the evening but the weekend as well, showing that the improvisational and tension directed portions on the eve of this performance were certainly going to carry over.

Slot two had Claypool calling out to “Stew-Daddy” to get things started and with a responsive drum roll, the band lit the fire of “Oz is Ever Floating” and made for the skies. As if the audible attitude to this point hadn’t conveyed the content the band and audience had for the music produced thus far, Claypool stepped to the mic to let all within earshot know how the band was feeling about their return.

Spinning a discombobulated story about a debate between his Polish friend Slavimir Meholic and himself about whether the saying is “Happy as a clown” or “Happy as a clam”, Les finally lands at the punchline, stating “we are as happy as f**king clams up here doing our sh*t. Last night we kicked the rust off this son of a b*tch and drove it straight to f**cking Hades! We had a good ol’ time”, a statement that was obviously well received. Claypool continued that although he did appreciate the clown perspective of his polish confidant, “Tonight, it is happy as an oyster!”

With that, “The Grand Pecking Order” began with its staccato march as Anastasio shredded like an unrelenting machine over the foundation set by Claypool and Copeland. Transitioning seamlessly, a lengthy intro jam with pops and flare that contained hues of Clifton Chenier’s and Phish favorite “My Soul” ended into the second-longest piece of the weekend “Rubberneck Lions”, timing out at seventeen minutes of ridiculousness.

To close out the set, the band brought out another dark and eerie rendition of “Shadow of a Man”, its extended opening filled with the gurgles and discord of the musical nether regions that made one feel as though impending doom were right around the corner, and with that, the accompanying fright and excitement of the unknown in the moment to come. The visual dynamic of seeing Anastasio wielding The Matterhorn only contributed to the power and unsettling feeling of the tune. As the final drones of the hollow wasteland faded into the rear-view mirror and it was anyone’s guess what would be the final selection, the band rolled out Cream’s “White Room”, with Les taking lead vocals. Although the song seemed short, there was plenty of content, as Copeland and Claypool laid down the collective rumbling and footing and Anastasio fired away over the top, making great on the good names of their predecessors Clapton, Bruce, and Baker that originally made the song an instant and powerful classic.

Again, taking a page from Night one, the band paused for an abbreviated intermission, and returned under the thirty-minute mark, opening the second set with another acoustic performance of “Birthday Boys”, this time focused on the song’s meaning: a fabled tale of an adventurous night in Las Vegas during the year 2000 where two friends, Claypool and Anastasio, shared more than just cake and presents in celebrating their close-set birthdays, September 28th and 29th, respectively. The seemingly light-hearted nature and structure of the song doesn’t seem to reflect the level of debauchery experienced on this night of infamy, which even now still remains, albeit less, shrouded in mystery.

The jam essence that was prevalent in set one continued to endow set two and following the acoustic tale, the band resumed where they had left off with another hard-driving version of “Little Faces”, which saw the band taking their time to accent, slow, and speed their way through the tune, bringing psychedelic remnants to the table while remaining vigilant to the hard edge.

With hardly a pause, the band continued on with “Polka Dot Rose” and again reflected that the band was focused on the stretch of the tune rather than getting through the lyrics and the end. The improvisation was gritty, and the lyrical portion reached frenetic anxiety in the end, as Claypool and Anastasio called out “Keep on raging!” over and over again, driving the house into a reeling tizzy of intoxication.

“Wield The Spade” afforded Copeland to once again come center stage and deliver on this tune that was seemingly crafted for his lengthy mass, as he utilized outstretched arms and long face to accentuate the call to arms with conviction and power, appearing as if to speak specifically to everyone in attendance all the while making eye contact with as many as possible. Diving into the bizarre instrumental at the close of the tune, flickerings of light shone from the dark depths as the band transitioned without pause into “Radon Balloon”. Again, Anastasio switched over to the Stratocaster and Claypool left the bass duties, making his way Stew-side to assist on the ancillary percussion setup that lined the backside of Copeland’s kit. From there, Stewart and Les looked on and supported Trey in time as he delivered the emotional and soft melody and lyric at center stage. From here, the band transfigured once again, jumping from the aerial number back to the ground and took off on a strong pairing of “Army’s on Ecstasy” into “Owner of the World” to close out the set.

For the second night in a row, the encore slot received three heaters and got the special treatment with the debuts of full versions of Primus’ “Those Damn Blue-Collar Tweekers” and Phish’s “First Tube”, both of which were served up and bathed in Oysterhead sauce, with the final tune of the night being the last unplayed song from the studio album: another charged version of “Pseudo Suicide”.

The big takeaway from the weekend was that the band sounds well-rehearsed, energized, and has taken their return seriously. They appear to be as excited and overflowing with fun as the audience and seem to have a stronger focus on the jam if you will, allowing for longer builds and lengthier versions from their classic album.

The lights and the sound for the weekend were dialed in from the first notes to the end and again reflected that every point of the band’s return had been considered and addressed prior to taking the stage. From all outlooks, there was nary a bad seat in the house and circulating through the arena, eye and ear candy were easily visible being enjoyed by all.

The oozing goo that is the concoction of these three consciousnesses is certainly an acquired taste, but anyone who attended this weekend’s festivities couldn’t argue with the fact that what was pulled off was unstable and exciting and left anyone heading home pondering buying tickets for the next stop, even if they played all the same songs over again.

For the last couple of weeks, the talented and notorious Robinson Brothers have been making their way westward on their Brothers of a Feather Tour, playing intimate venues on two continents and showing audiences that neither has lost their love for music, the road, nor each other. With tickets going on sale February 10th, all 11 dates were sold out by day’s end and many venues, within minutes.

Monday night, the stage was set in Denver’s downtown speakeasy Ophelia’s Electric Soapbox for the group’s solitary Colorado stop. With a 400-person capacity, it was clear that the Mile-High City was excited and ready for the return of Chris and Rich.  With two hours before showtime, the line was already stretched from the front door, down the block, and around the corner and was filled with smiling faces swapping stories of their history with the incarnations of talent that The Robinson’s, both as a group and independents, had generated and how The Black Crowes catalog music had been integral to their own soundtracks.

With doors opening at 8 o’clock, Ophelia’s filled almost immediately to capacity.  At a quarter past nine, The Brethren took the stage and were warmly welcomed, generating a glowing grin on both the performer’s faces. Taking advantage of the tight surroundings, Chris comically chided the audience, asking, "Why are you so close? What the f**k is that all about?!?!”, as he giggled and Rich looked on with a widened smile. Wasting no time, the two jumped right into “Jealous Again” and quickly showed that neither needed a warmup tune to get going. By the second stanza of lyrics, the audience was fully engaged and many in attendance joined in by singing along.

“Hotel Illness” filled the second slot and reminded everyone that Chris is as much as a great harmonicist as he is an incredible on-stage personality, working the mouth organ with power and conviction. This dynamic coupled with the slide mastery and perfect time of Rich, made the room feel more like a southern church than a nightclub.

The duo continued with “Wiser Time” and took the opportunity to show off their pipes, reminding the audience that in spite of each being a talent in their own right, the concoction they produce together is intoxicating and deep.

As if everyone wasn’t already feeling heavy with nostalgia, Chris begins the next tune by stating that what has made their trek on the tour so enjoyable is that “ in revisiting these songs in these small surroundings, this is as close as how Rich and I wrote all these songs originally”, which seemed to reflect that these siblings were mending their history with the roots of that early connection to each other, making this rare performance even heavier. Continuing, Chris stated, “That for many of the tunes there is an element of dreaming and this next piece is the epitome of that dynamic” and with that, the two began  “Thorn in my Pride”, which included a moving harmonica solo and more acceptance from the audience at its finish.

The stage backdrop for Ophelia’s is a mosaic mish-mash of old-time radios, eight tracks, and the like, and before starting up “Cursed Diamond”, Chris Robinson decided to incorporate this eye candy into the evening’s schtick, as he commented “how cool it was to be on the set of Hoarders” as he directed everyone’s attention to the backdrop, pulling a hearty laugh from the audience. He continued, commenting further on “how great it was to shine a light on someone’s personal problem (hoarding) all for the sake of advertising”. He quickly retracted his statement, apologizing for making light of hoarding, but then dismantled that stance, stating, he was “not sorry because he wasn’t a hoarder”, but after another brief pause of realization, stated “ all of this coming from a guy with 8000 records in his living room”, stimulating a raised eyebrow and wry smirk from Rich while the crowd further appreciated the comic relief at Chris’ expense.

“Oh Josephine” was introduced in the juxtaposition to every song written about life and the many situations therein as being like a dream. Instead, this song, according to Chris, “was written about when the dream is over”. Both “Cursed Diamond” and “Oh Josephine” delivered on the emotional blues dynamic that The Robinson’s creations evoke that makes their unique take on the blues history a genuine experience for the listener.

Turning up the grit, “Horsehead” was brought to show and the gnarly slide of Rich resounded throughout the room. At the tail of the equine, the mid-set, multiple beer conversation point of the set had finally arrived, and interspersed exchanges could be heard from different parts of the room. Chris and Rich attempted to ignore it, well really Rich more than Chris, as Rich started up “Twice as Hard”, making it through a couple of measures before Chris signaled him to stop. At this point, he addressed the crowd, and asked sternly, “What?!?! Are you f**king bored because I can hear you talking through the whole tune”? At this point, anyone who had been following the tour knew what was coming next. Chris continued, “If you are bored, go outside and talk, or maybe pull your sh*t together for another 25 minutes because what you are doing is rude. Now you have really pissed me off, having to interrupt my brother to address you”. Although internet chatter has looked down on Chris for similar point-blank addresses in Boston and Philadelphia, stating how can a performer criticize his own audience, the crowd felt that his outspokenness was appropriate and warranted, not only for the intimacy of the surroundings but also because for any true appreciator of music, the whole chomper movement is out of control and if anyone is going to see live music, it should be done with ears wide open and mouths closed shut.

The blood kin brought out the echoing drone of “Descending”, which ended in alternating exchange of vocals between Chris and Rich and continued to display the fact that the crafted pieces of The Crowes are unique and diverse in meter and feeling. The set closer saw the pairing of great renditions of two Crowes classics in “She Talks to Angels” and “Remedy”, affording one last chance at the audience sing-along. A little surprising was the encore choice, as Lowell George’s “Willin” was the designated closer. Many were expecting and hoping for another piece from their favorite band, but the crowd was willing enough to jump in and add vocals to the parting piece.

In the end, the night was filled with great music and harkened back to what it must have been like to see these two great artists at their humble beginnings. Observing the two in such an organic way left much of the fanfare and fantasy at the door and the guys were seen and felt as two making music rather than rock legend. Although the setlist on the tour has not deviated much, the audience seemed to enjoy every moment of the music, the banter, and the interpersonal exchanges. The two sounded well-rehearsed and genuinely appeared to be enjoying each other’s talent and company. These dynamics surely increased the anticipatory excitement for what the two will bring on their Shake Your Money Maker Tour this summer, especially their return to the hallowed ground of Red Rocks. The last time Chris and Rich did this intimate acoustic thing was in 2006 and who knows when it might happen again so for those who were lucky enough to get tickets this time around, this musical experience is truly what dreams are made of.

The month of March marks the end of winter and the onset of spring. Last March Tuesday followed suit, with the conclusion of the winter tour of the legendary Colonel of Bluegrass Sam Bush. Finishing up 12 shows in a 14-day jaunt through the Midwest and the Rocky Mountains, a feat that would exhaust many the intrepid traveler, the band showed no signs of running on empty as they hit the stage to an almost sold-out crowd on their final night in the historic Fort Collins venue Aggie Theatre.

The crowd welcomed Mr. Bush and his confidants at a quarter past nine, and without a word and only a smile, the band got things got going with a nice ambient tuning jam before jumping both feet into “Play by Your Own Rules”. This high energy tune showcased early on the prowess of newcomer banjoist Wes Corbett, who easily demonstrated that he was an appropriate pick to keep this band rolling in the wake of Scott Vestal’s departure. Continuing to pull from his high energy catalog, Bush pulled up “I’m Still Here” from his 2010 Dream The Dream album and kept the house getting down.

Finally breaking his silence, Sam bid the crowd good evening and stated how nice it was to be back at The Aggie. Keeping it brief, he put out the invitation to everyone to take a ride on “The Bluegrass Train” as he quickly counted off the tune of the same name, continuing the Tuesday night hoedown.

Having stretched out during the cardio workout of the first three tunes, the band turned and delivered a commanding performance on the instrumental New Grass Revival piece “Sapporo”. Penned by Bush for the group, the number was described as the product of a simple 5 note progression that Sam learned while in Japan in 1976. That stated, what the group delivered was anything but simple, as the intricate lines and tempo shifts revealed how well these artists listen and communicate with each other. This was demonstrated via the group as a whole, a moving juggernaut of sound, as well as individualistically, as each member was given the opportunity to solo extensively and without hurry. Without notice nor a breath, “Sapporo” segued seamlessly in the John Hartford high octane swinger “Up on the Hill Where They Do The Boogie” and the crowd kept on dancing!

The Colonel took time to introduce the band, stating their city of origin, followed by the state of Tennessee, hoping for a laugh but leading instead to mixed reactions from the crowd, including both celebratory cheers and satirical boos.

Guitarist Steve Mougin was given the opportunity to shine next, pulling out his soon-to-be-released single, “I’m Gonna Ride”. This comforting bluegrass tune allowed Mougin to take lead vocals while Bush and Corbett added harmonies, followed by short, sweet solos by the three.

No bluegrass show would be complete without a contribution by one of the old Masters, and on this evening Doc Watson’s legend came to call. Prefacing the tune, Bush told the crowd that the next tune, although made famous by Watson but older than the great, was more in the style of Leon Russell and became as such after Russell had one night asked Bush, who was in his touring band at the time, to show him a bluegrass number, to which Bush laid out “Columbus Stockade Blues”. Russell liked it so much that he changed the key, put his spin on it, and added to his rotation. By the end of the first stanza, any appreciator of Leon Russell could easily hear the influence in the structure and punches.

Keeping the energy and the music rolling, the band segued to The Box Tops’ “The Letter”, which carried more of the Joe Cocker grit and afforded the crowd the opportunity to sing along, which they happily did. The ending had the gents singing in the falsetto, while Bush comically stated “his baby wrote him a letter, on paper……, no email, no tweets, no Instagram, no telegram”, getting a good laugh out of the crowd and the band.

Taking it back to Appalachia, the traditional short and sweet bluegrass piece “Hard Hearted” was up next and was filled to the brim with quick banjo and drum roles galore.

“Circles Around Me”, a song of thanks as described by Bush, showcased the emotional, deeper side of this inspiring player. A slower number that induces feelings of freedom and love with friends genuine and represents that the man’s context goes much deeper than just the light speed jam grass shred fest that draws so many to his attendance.

Introduced as a bluegrass waltz number, the band grinned as they jumped into Jerry Lee Lewis’ “Great Balls of Fire”, a tune that the man has been playing for years and still gets crowds going and laughing at the schtick.

Turning the spotlight to banjoist Wes Corbett, Bush asked what song Corbett wanted to play. Corbett responded, stating,” I want to play a song that commemorated my own 30th birthday party. It is called Dinosaur Birthday”. With the banjo as the centerpiece, this was the first time of the evening that Bush picked up the fiddle, resulting in fiery exchanges between hammer claw and bow as the band held the framework in place.

Reinforcing the positive message that Sam Bush represents so well in music and speech, “Howlin’ At the Moon” continued to send out the good time vibes.

Like bluegrass from the far east, the instrumental “Mahavishnu Mountain Boys” clocked in at ten minutes and resulted in many taking flight under closed eyelid as the room swirled and shifted in both time and space, again showing that the stage players are as comfortable in the structure as they are in the improvisation.

As if anyone would attempt to categorize Sam Bush into any one genre, the next tune certainly showed that this man’s creative endeavor is neither stifled nor easily contained. “Stop the Violence” is one of his newer originals, released in 2019, and rings out more like rock anthem than the genres he is usually associated with. In fact, for the performance, both Corbett and Mougin hung up the acoustic tone for electric pickups, distortion, and feedback, and did so without skipping a beat, turning The Aggie from barn to barn burner.

Keeping with the fire started in “Stop the Violence”, the band maintained their harder edge and continued on with another rocker in “Wake Up”. These two proclamations lyrically challenge listeners to take an active role in their contribution in life and forego the status quo to make choices for them.

To close out the evening, Bob Marley’s “One Love” was the final message for the good people of Fort Collins, Colorado. Done in its “traditional bluegrass Rasta reggae way”, the tune gave one last opportunity for fans to sing along with one of their musical heroes and be reminded that music is again one of the elemental things that bind us together.

Based on his energy and his physicality, it is hard to believe that Bush is almost 70 years old. His demeanor represents both the maturity of bandleader while still entertaining the high energy kid inside whose only focus is the musical moment. As to be expected, the players that Sam Bush surrounds himself with are the cream of the crop. This group of men smile as much among themselves as for the people they are playing for, truly demonstrating how much fun and connection they have with each other. As it has been stated, “it is hard to keep a good man down”, this value certainly rings true for Sam Bush and His Merry Men, as they are slated to start their spring tour in a matter of weeks. For those who have yet to see Sam Bush perform: Treat yourself already, you won’t be disappointed and you will get more than an earful!

As of late, the town of Fort Collins has played host to a plethora of tour openers and tour closers. Tuesday night saw the tour finale for Sam Bush and his never-ending musical travels and without skipping a beat, Wednesday brought the PHAB 4 to Washington’s to begin their three-night Colorado run of collaboration. Consisting of Paul Hoffman and Anders Beck of Greensky Bluegrass, Todd Herrington of Cris Jacobs Band and Modern Groove Syndicate, and last but certainly not least William Apostol, the surname of the talented Billy Strings, the announcement of this powerhouse conglomeration drew great excitement in the jam grass world as tickets sold out within a few days.

As it is with so many shows at these intimate Colorado general admission venues, where getting to be an arm’s reach from “how” factor musicians on a nightly basis is possible, arriving at the venue at 6 pm, it was no surprise to see roughly 50 patrons already lined up for their chance to be face to face with this talent and catch an earful stage side all night long. With a door time of 8 pm and showtime of 9, the lucky 900 wasted no time in filling the floor from front to back and leaving little walking space in the upstairs balcony.

Showing no signs of a hurry, the house lights went dark at about half-past nine, as the four musical marauders casually strolled out onto the stage. With a simple “Good evening” from Anders Beck, the band wasted no time opening the night up with the Greensky tune “Old Barns”. From the first few measures of the number, it was impressive how tight the group sounded in light of the infrequent collaboration of these gentlemen. This opener also seemed to serve as an opportunity to dial in the sound to the now full house.

At its close, the band brought out the upbeat Strings tune “Away from the Mire”. By mid-song, it was clear that this NOCO stop was going to be jam-filled, as Strings took an early role in driving this version over the top, with the rest happy to jump in to take the ride. Transitioning this number from rootsy bluegrass to edgy psychedelic rocker, the group shined with extensive solos from Beck’s dobro and Strings’ effects-laden acoustic. To further reflect the mutual respect dynamic, this number came filled with teases of Greensky’s “Worried About the Weather”, stimulating the crowd to joyously call out the nods. In total, the tune clocked in at ten minutes and it seemed that the band was just getting warmed up and having a ball doing so.

Next up was “Courage for the Road” and saw speedy fiery exchanges in rounds between Beck, Hoffman, and Strings, while Herrington kept the foundation grounded amidst the swirling shredfest of aural delight. A few minutes into the tune, the music turned toward the minor, and the jam moved from in-your-face playing to the swirling in-your-ear improvisation that showed that these players are as much about the musical heritage as they are about stretching out past the comfort zone into new territory. Looking around the venue, all eyes were either stage ward or closed, and the whole place was getting down. At this point, three songs in and thirty minutes of good living having been had, it was crystal clear that there was so much more in store and this rare musical union was just as much a treat for the band as it was the audience.

Slowing things, a bit, Hoffman stepped to the microphone to deliver his soulful ballad “Nine Days”. With its moving lyrics of trying to find one’s own identity in light of the past and the potential of the future, this number exemplified what a great songwriter Paul is in both scribe and meter.

Having caught their breath, the PHAB 4 returned to the Appalachian sound with the early 20th-century traditional tune “There’s More Pretty Girls Than One”. Hoffman and Strings took alternating deliveries of the lyrics, smiling and grinning at each other all the while, while everyone on stage threw in for the leads in between. At song’s end, Hoffman referenced wanting to play the tune, as in his life there is more than one pretty girl, namely his daughter and her mother, comically chiding the audience that he “knew what they were all thinking”.

“Burn Them” quickly followed and kept the room bouncing and calling out for more and the band was more than happy to oblige. This was followed by a short, tasty and well-delivered rendition of “Merely Avoiding”.

Offering up another opportunity for Billy to take center stage, “Long Forgotten Dream” came out of the gates with its upbeat tempo and drive, reflecting Strings’ ability as songwriter and bandleader, rolling out the quick lyrics and the nimble picking without a misstep.

“What You Need” was the final contribution of the set and the band showed no signs of wear, as Beck and Strings alternated exchanges as the two grinned and laughed at each other.

To open up the second set, a great take on another Strings’ original, “Taking Water”, had the room singing along and showed that this crowd was just as much here for his contribution as they were for their love of the Greensky Bluegrass dynamic.

It was at this point that Anders Beck stepped to the microphone and stated,” We were talking at set break and we all agreed that we are having one helluva good time and we hope you are too”, to which the crowd confirmed the band’s intent and with that the band started up “I’d Probably Kill You”, keeping the feeling of the room light and upbeat. This version, like those of the past where Strings has collaborated with Greensky, included the lyrical change to include Billy in the inferno portion of the tale, making the room the erupt with laughter and applause.

“Can’t Make Time” was well executed and filled with tasty dobro accents from Beck throughout and led into the stomp of “Don’t Lie”, which included a lengthy intro with Strings leading the charge, utilizing the wah wah peddle while Beck employed a delay effect to set the nasty groove on edge. In perfect time, the four-horseman jumped right into the structure and lyric of the tune as if they had been playing together for years. Mid-song, the audience continued to get dosed with the distorted feedback of Strings’ acoustic effects and as the room began to swirl for the umpteenth time of the night, the tune transitioned from Greensky to Apostol the preacher as the music segued into the Strings’ original “Turmoil and Tinfoil” sans the lyrics and was used as launchpad for the band to get deep into jamland, sending the crowd into a frenzy of sweat and exhilaration. In the end, this auditory journey proved to be the longest piece of the night clocking in at 21 minutes of delight.

At this point, Billy took the opportunity to thank Anders and Hoffman for inviting both he and Todd out to play and with a grin ear to ear, Strings took the room on another escapade with his original in “Everything’s the Same”. “Reverend” was up next and although the tune is derived from the Greensky wheelhouse and typically has Hoffman handling the lyrics, Strings took to the microphone and owned the number as though it was one of his own as Hoffman looked on with a smile.

At songs end, Beck took time to introduce his bandmate, pointing and stating, “This is Paul. This is one of the best songwriters I know. He’s a f*cking badass! Don’t you forget it!”. As expected, this proclamation of endearment lit the room up, as everyone cheered on in agreement.

The good times kept rolling with a great take on “Living Over”. With its easily accessible chord progression and quiet and lilting midsection, this is a tune that truly strums the heartstrings when heard. The quiet portion also afforded Herrington to play around on the higher registry, in those sweeter notes of the bass, moving the room to listen a little closer. Although this moment was a bit short-lived, the lifting jam that ensued was warming everyone from the inside out.

Showing again that this night was not about any one person or group, “Bone Digger”, a Cris Jacobs original and one for which Herrington was a contributor in its construct, strutted out on stage with Hoffman taking the lead on vocals and swagger on this tune with an attitude. Herrington also had the opportunity to grab everyone’s attention and displayed his skills at slapping and rolling that bass, owning the room and making it look easy.

“Shadows in the Room” put everyone back in the bluegrass mood and continued to show that this group of guys seemed inexhaustible, as rapid line after rapid line continued to be delivered without any sign of burnout.

Finishing as strongly as they had started, the PHAB 4 delivered on their final take of the set in “Tarpology,” and this one was played with the same amount of creativity and inspiration that tunes played hours earlier had been and incorporated teases of the Greensky favorite “The Four”.

To send the still packed house out on a high note, the band chose “Past My Prime” as the encore, a title that wouldn’t in the least describe any of these great players. This fact was further reinforced in its delivery, as this one was taken as seriously as any other choice of the night, played with care, proficiency, and certainly not as an afterthought.

In the end, 900 fortunate souls got to witness an incredible formation of talent for nearly three hours. This fact of luck would be even further realized later as the remaining two nights of the run had to be postponed due to safety concerns surrounding the coronavirus. With the busy schedules of these individuals with their usual musical commitments, it might be difficult to fathom that rescheduled shows would be possible in the near future. That stated, after seeing these four kindred spirits perform together, connecting and exchanging with genuine joy, it is easy to believe that they will make time, not just for the fans and family who missed out, but also for the opportunity they themselves missed in sharing more great music and time with each other.

As perspective is everything and at this time in our history, Lord knows we could use more, it was great to touch base with Hoffman at the end of the night. As it has become the usual practice for many concert attendees to show up for these events and talk their way through the music, I asked Paul, “When you are up on stage, having the time of your life, pouring out your blood, sweat, and soul, and you look around and hear everyone talking, how does that make you f*cking feel?”, my own ire getting the better of me over the culture of the chomp. Hoffman, being the spirit animal, he is, looked at me with a smile and a wink and said, "When I am up there, I don’t hear people talking. All I hear is people raging,” as he walked off to the rear of the house. At that point, it seemed like a great answer, but in retrospect and in light of recent developments, it speaks volumes about where and how we target our attention. Let us all take a page from the Hoffman Handbook of Life and place our focus on the positivity and the things we have at the moment so that we can ride out the storm and make it to the next gig in life. Take care, everyone!

Check out more photos from the show.

As we enter the seventh month of the COVID pandemic, the chance to attend live music is making a comeback, albeit sporadic and in ways we have never thought would be the new norm. These opportunities are being welcomed with open arms and ears and it seems that attendees are cherishing these tonal engagements to a greater degree because of their rarity, taking in what they can and not squandering the fleeting musical moment in exchange for inane conversation better served at home. The same feelings of gratitude and gratefulness seem to be equally shared from the player's point of view, long having been barred from doing what they love in the name of safety, so much that when the chance arises for them to deliver their bottled emotion and passion, the cup runneth over.

This past weekend, The Holiday Twin Drive-In Theater in Fort Collins facilitated not one, but two, such gatherings, playing host to back-to-back nights of legendary jam grass configuration Yonder Mountain String Band. Having deep roots in the mountains of Colorado prior to their global success, tickets sold quick for this affair. This was not only due to the need for that high lonesome sound so many have missed, but also influenced by the special billing each night promised.

For night one, the band announced that they would open with their 1999 release Elevation in its entirety, an album that was not only their first studio take as a group, but was also the anchor that drew so many into their unique twist on convention, spawning a following that few in the jam scene would rival. As if the performance of an entire album were not enough to drive in the local support, the band announced that they would also be playing an extended second set chock full of even more originals and fan favorites.

For night two, the band billed The Cosmic Bowling League as their opener, which, for those in the know, created even more stir, as The CBL is none other than Yonder’s alter ego used to facilitate the fanbase demands to hear their jam grass staple take on the more traditional roots of the bluegrass genre, packing the music with humor and southern swagger. What made this detail even more unique was that The CBL has only reared its gaudy, rambunctious appearance of bowling shirts, wigs, and bad moustaches a handful times since 2001. As if these announcements were not enough to fervor the fever that Fort Collins was the place to be, never-before-seen footage, dating back to 2001 and 2003 respectively, would be played on the big screen following each performance. For those who have held this band special for more than two decades, it was obvious that the band plan was to bring it in a way that no one would want to miss.

Never having caught a drive-in show to date, the atmosphere is quite different. Cars are spread out with a space in between each vehicle and patrons are relegated to hanging out in their autos or close there by. The sound is broadcast via an FM signal, just like a drive-in movie, and the listener controls the output via their own radio, which is mostly contained to the vehicle itself. For Fort Collins, The Holiday Twin backs up to a neighborhood and so there is a regulated noise ordinance, which bars bands from being amplified. Instead, musicians wear in-ear monitors to hear themselves and each other, so for anyone standing near the stage, the sound is minimal and almost absent, keeping most attendees in or near their parking spot. This dynamic, plus strictly enforced social distancing, keeps ticketholders away from the stage and outside of a few parking lot lights, the field is dark with most of the stage lights directed to lighting the performers so that they can be clearly seen on the big screen. These characteristics of weird are some of the traits to the new return of the live music experience.

On Friday, at a quarter past seven, the group took the stage to a packed parking lot that quickly filled with audible but unseen welcoming recognition, reflecting that the crowd was here to satisfy that acoustic itch that needed scratched. This was to mark the band’s third performance since their winter tour was cut short nearly eight months prior and their first go around with playing in the crowdless drive-in scene. Although some might think that all these new factors may contribute to performance instability, including playing with a new member in multi-instrumentalist Nick Piccininni,  it was no surprise that these veterans tuned up, stepped to their microphones, made some jokes, including that “Elevation was now old enough to buy everyone drinks”, and delivered an effortless take on the promised album. As expected, the album, which clocks in at a little over 56 minutes, got the royal treatment and came in at seventy-five, seeing some exploratory jamming and extended soloing to send the crowd to intermission with something to talk about.

Having a new band member, even one such as Piccininni, who is touted as being more than proficient on all things stringed, including banjo, guitar, fiddle, and mandolin, brings on an invitation for the unknown to unfold. It introduces that spark of risk that fuels the unexpected foundation that is improvisation and for a band that is pushing the limits, this is a key ingredient. What is even more crucial is the ability of the players to be get out of the way and let the music play the band. It was easy to see early on in the evening that not only had the band picked the right man for the job, delivering his part with solidarity and exception while complimenting the whole, but the crowd was loving it too, releasing waves of exuberant gratitude with every final note. Looking to the stage, Piccininni looked like a kid in a candy store, grinning from ear to ear and making every effort to fuel his bandmates and the crowd with his own brand of schtick, taking opportunities to walk about the stage to engage his compadres in musical duels, adjusting Ben Kaufmann’s hat, or getting a closer look at what the others were playing while wearing a smirk and making googly eyes. At one point, the new kid on the block jumped off the stage and went walking out as far as he could on his wireless rig and played to a bunch of school-aged children, who ate up every moment, jumping around and showing their best dance moves as their parents looked on, equally entertained with the showmanship and fresh breath this man from the east was breathing into the group.

Following a short intermission, the band returned to the stage and delivered a second set of more originals, including a “Sideshow Blues” opener, “Two Hits and the Joint Turned Brown”, and “All The Time” that saw Krall and Piccininni host a prolonged battle of the bows, each on their respective fiddles and both giving it their all. Intertwined into the YMSB songbook selections were also some unconventional covers, including The Misfits’ “20 Eyes”, Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit”, “My Girlfriend is Better” by Talking Heads, and “I Need to Know” by Tom Petty in honor of the third anniversary of his passing. Clocking in at 90 minutes, at sets end it was easy to see that both the audience and the band wanted more, as the crowd cheered throughout the encore pause and the band verbally broached the subject of, “What if we just keep on jamming?”. The band eventually made their way back into position and performed a great rendition of Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train”, leaving everyone satisfied and excited about yet another night to come.

The final surprise of the night was that many of the fans who had come out actually packed up and left following the encore, even with the promise of unseen footage from yesteryear still to come. It seemed that for these folks, seeing Yonder Mountain was about the new and the now and wasn’t about rehashing the past or trying relive the glory days and from what the band laid out in its musical offering, it proved to those who had shown up to take witness that there are many more days of shared glory ahead.

Reflecting on this night’s performance, it was easy for anyone within earshot or sightline that the band’s excitement and joy on stage was palpable. The five grins seemed wider and brighter than they had been for some time. Maybe it was the new blood of Piccininni or the full moon, but it was apparent from start to finish that these jam grass extraordinaires were giving all they had and loving every minute of being there. They seemed at times to be playing for the joy of each other, maybe even more so than for the crowd, as their own faces were the only ones they could see. Maybe it was the time off from the road or having an opportunity to reflect or a combination of both, but this band musically drove home that their future lies ahead on the open road of opportunity and the past is just a distorted, subjective image in the rear view mirror.

For those unfamiliar with the band and for those who have just plain forgot, from harmonies, instrumentation, and the desire and talent for improvisation, this group delivers talent on all fronts. They demonstrate a discernable cohesiveness that goes without words and leaves one beaming, whether veteran or novice, from the shared exchange. Speaking to the group, their personalities and wit hold true to their onstage personas, being just as willing to listen to the story as they are to share it and showing that who they are is just as approachable and real no matter which side of the stage they are on. Being a fly on the wall, it is clear to see that these individuals genuinely care about and respect the value of each other. There is no self-appointed leader and everyone has an equal voice and it seems that the end point is more about enjoying the moment and supporting the creative process of life rather than being bogged down by the chains of success and uncertain potentials. From Allie Krall’s intoxicating laugh to Kaufman’s unending joking, both for the entertainment of others as well as himself, to the alternating deadpan of Johnson and Aijala, while Piccininni bounces along with whatever circle spins around him, these people are more like family than business partners or the seekers of stardom.

In the end, for this listener, the Yonder fires were restoked and the reminder was apparent that in the face of such odd times, bearing copious amounts of divisiveness, it is decision making based on the focus of higher tenets that will get us through the day. Music is the language that binds us together no matter our stance on the current topic and it is in those listening moments that we hear ourselves and our higher calling to being part of something greater. Getting to exchange with the honesty of the kinfolk of YMSB gave me pause and reflection that we are not alone, that all we have is the moment, and the now is the stepping stone to the future, which is largely dependent on our actions. Thank you, good people of Yonder Mountain, for making evenings like this possible and being willing to take the high road, adapt, and continue even in the face of adversity. The example that has been set can be summed up simply: When in doubt, Elevate.

Sadly, due to the constraints of child care and parental responsibility, I was only able to attend Friday night’s festivities and, as it is often with the wanderlust of the musical allure, I count myself both blessed and cursed having been able to catch at least one evening of inspiration, while also being restricted to just one night. With only six more stops on this tour, after bearing witness and testament to creativity incarnate, I have no worries that the band and its family of listeners has at least another decade in them of helping the world turn round.

Check out more photos from the show.

Spring is associated with new beginnings and for the year 2021, the wind of change is being widely embraced. From vaccinations to the shaking off of the long winter, people everywhere are actively looking forward to getting out, getting normal, and for music lovers, getting down.

To satisfy the musical desire, one of the main staples of live music throughout Colorado has answered the call to get people back into their dancing shoes. In March, Planet Bluegrass, originators, instigators, and propagators of the acoustic note throughout the Centennial State for nearly 35 years, announced Spring Grass, a concert series hosted at their historic location in Lyons, Colorado. Starting out as 13 simple shows running from the end of March to the beginning of May and presenting both local and national names, Spring Grass was apparently what everyone in the region needed, signified by tickets to most events selling out within an hour of going on sale. Instead of resting on their laurels, promoters and organizers reached out to many of the acts already booked and asked if they would like a second night on their elevated stage, and as expected, most artists cordially and excitedly accepted the invitation. Since that original announcement, Spring Grass has grown to almost thirty events, is running until the middle of May, and continues to add more live performances weekly.

For April 17th and 18th, the main event was the acoustic duo of Adam Aijala and Ben Kaufman of the national touring group and a long-standing favorite of both the jam band and bluegrass communities, Yonder Mountain String Band. Born out of Colorado and doing what they do best for over two decades, it was no surprise that this double-billing was one of the first events to sell out and the early arrival of the crowd on both nights reinforced the fact that patrons were up for getting an earful from these talented writers and players and that it had been much too long since they had got their YMSB fix.

Arriving in Lyons, one can visibly see the age of this quaint town, driving past eras along its quintessential Main Street, lined with its cobble stone-clad buildings. One can see the history in the architecture and imagine what this place looked like in days past while realizing at the same time that probably not much has changed. 

The venue lies on the opposite side of town and from the road heading west, the grounds of Planet Bluegrass are unassuming. The wooden plank walled border that lines highway 36 shelters the 20-acre venue from sight and if you didn’t know where you were going, you would pass the non-descript entrance in a blink of an eye. Once past the arboreal façade, the property stretches out to the north, encircled with trees and graveled parking, leaving a wide grassy lawn at its center, the optimal viewing point for red and gold rock canyon faces that line the eastern horizon and tower over a portion of the St. Vrain river that runs through the venue. The timber-constructed, pagoda-style stage stands approximately eight to ten feet high and supports excellent sightlines no matter where one is standing, making this location alongside the natural splendor another true gem of the Rocky Mountain venues list.

Although typical springtime conditions in the Rockies had been prevalent for the past week, namely a mix of rain and snow, arriving at the venue, partly cloudy skies giving way to long warm moments of sunshine put a smile on everyone’s faces. The crowd, of course at limited capacity and socially distanced in corrals of 4 to 6 people, swung the age range of newborn babies taking in their first concert experience to those who have been chasing the tune for almost a century. 

For the weekend, the opener consisted of Jessie Burns, Eric Thorin, and Friends and on both nights the group delivered an hour of solid Celtic-infused and authentic traditional numbers that made those in the dispersed crowd do their best jig and long for warm whiskey as the sun descended. For night two, the closer of their set got a little extra special as they welcomed another local legend in Bonnie Paine. Sitting in on their last two songs of the set, Paine contributed her talents first on the bent saw and bow and secondly on the mighty washboard, giving the set closer an even more authentic feel from the Northern European genre.

As one would suspect being in a region with so much musical talent, the stage for the main act for both nights was not set for a duo, but rather displayed 5 chairs and a host of extra equipment, confirming that some friends were in town and were ready to jam. For both nights, Aijala and Kaufman were joined by the familiar stringed touring force and YMSB bandmate Nick Piccininni. With an addition of two empty chairs, some in the audience thought maybe they would be lucky enough to catch not a duo show or a trio show, but rather a full-fledged, under the radar Yonder event. Although dreamers can dream, on both nights, the Yonder Trifecta took to the stage, warmed the crowd up, and filled the empty seats a few tunes into the set, not with Ms. Kral and Mr. Johnston, but with some friends from way back in the day.

The friends for both nights were Sally Van Meter and Benny “Burle” Galloway, both familiar names and widely respected players in the bluegrass and singer-songwriter circles.

 For those who don’t know, Sally Van Meter is a Grammy award-winning instrumentalist for her incredible mastery of the dobro and has been heralded by some as taking a rank in the top ten dobro players of all time. Her delivery is precise and her ability to transition from support to lead and back again is without falter, executed in a fluidity that reflects her ingrained knowledge of her craft and makes her a well-welcomed factor to any stage or studio she shares by both the pantheon of players she has played with as well as anyone within earshot.

Benny Galloway, known as “Uncle Burle” by many, is a singer/songwriter who has been a main staple of the Colorado acoustic music scene since the 1970s. His extensive list of contributions includes composition credits on albums made by YMSB, The Infamous Stringdusters, Leftover Salmon, Greensky Bluegrass and so many more. Although he has created so many recognizable numbers for larger groups, his playing and lyrical execution make him a stand-alone event in his own right. With his accessibility both in his craft and in face-to-face interaction, it is no wonder he has long carried the “Uncle Burle” title, as he embodies the caricature of the relative at the reunion who is most likely to shock a few adults and keep the kids entertained for hours, his wiry grin and sparkled eye projecting far past his thick bearded appearance.

Collectively, the Galloway / Van Meter connection to YMSB runs deep. Both were integral forces helping the band with their rise to success in the early years of inception. Van Meter has not only played on a number of the band’s studio tracks, beginning with their first album Elevation released in 1999 but also carries producer credits for both the band’s Elevation and Old Hands albums. Regarding Galloway, if one has been into YMSB to any extent, the fact is you have heard his influence. He is credited with contributing both musically and lyrically on over half their studio albums and was the source of the material for Old Hands. Many of his tunes continue to pepper Yonder setlists to this day.

The vibe of the weekend had more family feel to it rather than rager and the fact that Van Meter and Galloway were selected to drop by continued with that theme. The stage presence also reflected more of a living room jam session amongst friends rather than a stage production, where guests as much as centerpieces were given the opportunity to stretch out in both story and song. In fact, as in one such passage, Uncle Burle storied how he owed YMSB his life and how serendipity had put both him and Aunt Sally on crossed paths with the group in the creation of Yonder’s first album. He also told a story of the early Yonder days where a man in the town of Eldora, whose family had been there for over a hundred years, was in some kind of trouble and was being run out of town. In the face of this injustice, Vince Herman, aka “Cousin Vinnie”, called up Uncle Burle and said,” We got to do something about this!” As true to the outlaw lyrics they often sing and bringing those words to life in the material and literal sense, the two conspired to pull a flatbed truck illegally onto the main street and perform some anthem that would draw attention to the injustice and set the wrong of the law on the right side of humanity. The proceeds of the song would be the financial means to keep the man, his family, and their historical roots in place and resolve the trouble set against them. The song would later be titled “Not Far Away” and the band that would deliver the machine against the fascists of Boulder County on the back of the fateful flatbed would soon be known and not soon forgotten as Yonder Mountain String Band.

 Shortly before sunset on Sunday, Aijala, Kaufman, and Piccininni took the stage for their final set of the weekend. The group delivered a single two-hour set and played originals, covers, and as an added surprise, new unreleased material. Prior to this weekend set of shows, the trio had been in the studio for over a week, working on their latest creation. Saying goodbye to guests, Aijala informed the audience of the recent turns taken in the studio to get down the bones of what would be their next album, music and lyric they had been working on remotely through Zoom sessions since December. First up was a two-part combo with great future potential titled “Out of the Pan / Into the Fire”. This one-two punch was pulled off without error and felt as if it had been part of the regular rotation for quite some time. “If Only” was more ballad in its styling and lead vocals were rolled out by Aijala with accompanying harmonies by Kaufman and Picininni. “Broken Records” was brought to the table by Ben “Jazzy Time” Kaufman and with its jazz construct, smooth feel, and reflective lyrics, it told the tale of a man in pursuit of something new outside the repetition of life. The new material dotted the later part of the set and was interspersed with Yonder standards “Monarch”,” End of the Day”, and “Jailhouse Blues”. Again, due to the family affair atmosphere of the weekend, getting to hear these new pieces without the cacophony of conversation and debauchery of larger gigs offered an opportunity for the fans to absorb the music and spoken word while simultaneously allowing the band to bring out the new works in a setting devoid of distraction, an appropriate environment for a first live turn at the wheel.

With a number of summer tour dates already booked for Yonder and this weekend’s reveal of new material, Kinfolk everywhere should feel excited with potential as we transition from new spring to the revelry of summer in the wake of a year that seems more like a decade. It was refreshing to see that the band members present in Lyons had lost none of their momentum from last fall’s drive-in tour and are continuing the inertia from the infusion of Picininni into the band and his “all things stringed” role. The group continues to display a camaraderie of joy and friendship, reflected in onstage banter and humor, involving the audience as much as possible while attempting to get each other chuckling at the same time. These steadfast dynamics alongside a new album in the works adds up to what will be a memorable summer, a great year, and a band line-up that seems to be solid for the foreseeable future. The finely tuned five-cylinder engine that is YMSB hits the road next month starting in Ohio and has scheduled dates for almost every month until mid-fall all across the country and as with any band that has been kept in the barn during the pandemic, this one is set to race. 

In April, Bob Weir announced that he would be heading out to the Centennial State for four nights of canine revelry, outfitted not only with his brotherly band, but with the newly acquired Wolf Pack in tow. Starting off with two mid-week shows at the musical mecca of Red Rocks Amphitheatre and ending with two more nights in the mountain serenity of Vail, Colorado at The Gerald Ford Amphitheater, Weir would be accompanied by the usual suspects in tympanic master Jay Lane on drums and Don Was on bass. In addition, Dead and Company confidant Jeff Chimenti would join the outing handling piano duties. As if this lineup were not enough, the addition of the Wolf Pack promised to pull anyone over who was on the fence about securing tickets for any night they could get their hands on. Consisting of giant talent in Greg Leisz on pedal steel, Sheldon Brown on woodwinds, trombonist Adam Theis, violinist Mads Tolling, and cellist Alex Kelly, this newest addition to the Weir arsenal has not only made what fans love in Bob Weir better, but shows the continued drive of the band master to keep creating and doing more even as a septuagenarian. To make things more interesting, this would be the first time that The Wolf Pack would be playing in front of a live audience, their only other performances being webcasts from Weir’s TRL Studios in February. These events would also mark the band’s first return to the stage in over a year and a half. To say anticipation was high would be an understatement for any Deadhead who had come through the pandemic and was ready to continue carrying the tie-dyed torch and get down with their fellow congregate of the counterculture.

Arriving two hours prior to show time on Wednesday, it was easy to see that Tuesday’s performance did not disappoint as the faithful had returned in full force, cars congesting the windy roads of entrances 1 and 2 leading to the amphitheater and backed all the way down to highway 93, moving at the pace of turtles, or should we say terrapins.

Inside at 7:15, the venue was less than half full and this absence had many wondering if the amphitheater was still observing COVID restrictions and operating at reduced capacity or if many were still out in the parking lot imbibing before the event. By 7:45, it was clear that it was the latter and that reduced capacity was a thing of the past for this monolithic space.

Showtime was billed as 8:00 pm and with the time approaching, one could hear the cheers and calls to bring the band out and start what would be another great night in the history of this venue as well as the man who had brought so many people together here for the last 40 years. As the devout waited and continued to talk amongst themselves, Jay Lane came out to the front of stage, red dixie cup in hand, and surveyed the crowd with a scowl of seriousness, going unnoticed by the crowd for at least a minute. As the time passed and more took notice, applauding, whistling, and participating in general noise making, Lane finally broke his intent stare, raised his cup, and shared a smile and a sip, before meandering back into the shadows of the side stage area, raising the energy level and pre-show anticipation of everyone within the first 30 rows.

At a little past eight, the time had finally arrived and Weir entered the stage with Lane, Was, Leisz, and Chimenti and all received the warm welcome of thousands, taking a moment to take it all in as they scanned the filled seats stretched out before them. The set kicked off with a nice musical sandwich of “Music Never Stopped”, its coda, and the filling of “Easy Answers”. Weir appeared to be in 80’s rock star mode, playing a pink Stratocaster with what can only be described as a hair band guitar strap, donning a pastel top, and accessorized with a neckerchief. The set opener seemed to pick up with the timeless messages from the night prior that music, this music, the soundtrack of the Deadheads, will continue to be played regardless of the performer, and nothing, including a pandemic, will stop the experiential aspect of the live music we share and need to keep on keepin’ on.

With the set underway, the group continued, moving through solid renditions of Garcia’s emotive “Mission in the Rain” and Weir’s solo original “Only a River”, both of which gave way early on to the power and prowess of Leisz’s powerful slide voicings and showed this more than capable talent as lead as well as accompaniment.

No Weir performance of late would be complete without a story and it was here that Weir paused to address the audience and start a story about an infamous train trip in 1971 across Canada, a trip familiar to anyone who has seen the documentary Festival Express. Weir continued, referencing that one characteristic that made this train ride exceptional was that each train car had a different theme, from rock to blues to country, and each car was filled with different players, Weir mentioning Junior Wells and Buddy Guy, doing their thing as the steel circus made its way down the tracks. Weir paused on the country car and said that “this next tune was a big hit with the country folk in that car” and with that transitioned into “Friend of the Devil”. The extended honky-tonk keying of Chimenti and Leisz’s syrupy slide throughout made this number exceptionally enjoyable and had the whole venue singing along. Weir rotated in for his solo which was without blemish as Lane shuffled along and Was’ grin grew bigger with every measure.

Weir attempted to continue to regale the Festival Express story but was interrupted by an unintelligible suggestion by Lane, to which Weir replied,” The first rule in rock and roll is never take your drummer’s best advice. Believe me, I experientially know, uh, well, just trust me on that one”, eliciting a round of laughter from both sides of the stage. With that, the band continued the set with an emotional “Looks Like Rain”, complete with a rousing building finish that viscerally washed everyone clean standing between the two rock towers at twilight.

To close the set, Weir brought out the Wolf Pack for an inspired version of “Cassidy”. The addition of the horn arrangements to the tune gave the jam section a dark jazzy feel and played well off of Chimenti’s angular support in the minor. The ethereal sawing of “The Madman” Tolling on violin gave the tune dramatic drive, counterbalancing the fiery runs from Brown’s saxophone, as the two escalated the crescendo of the finale section. At tune’s end, the only question was why hadn’t The Wolf Pack been out on stage the whole time!

By the end of set one, it was easy to discern that the group was well rehearsed, Weir was looking and feeling strong, delivering solid vocals and spot on licks and notes, and with the closer and all of its interplay, that the second set held the promise of being exceptional.

With the start of intermission and the house lights up, it was clear to see that everyone was having a ball and that in fact the COVID capacity concerns were a thing of the past as nearly every seat in the house was occupied by someone shaking their bones.

Like set one, set two started with the band sans The Wolf Pack and the song of choice was “Me and My Uncle”. As expected, this grateful staple initiated the group sing along from the opening line to the end and the Colorado and Denver references were well received and continued to solidify the moment for player and listener alike. Between the ragtime of Chimenti and smooth slide of Leisz, the tune had a great authentic feel to it, conjuring images of western saloons and cowboys of the 1800’s.

With a quick pause, The Wolf Pack made their way onto the stage and settled in for an 18-minute version of “Estimated Prophet”. Throughout the tune, every member on that stage earned their keep, producing a spiral of sound that swung the spectrum from bright inspirational moments to the dark jazz blues infusion that is the expectation for any great version of this GD classic. The jam section here was unhurried, layered, and thick, each player blurring the auditory line between the end of their line and the line of the next contributor while Weir’s familiar metallic echo bounced off those high rock walls and spun many in time under clear starry skies.

Leaving the sandy shores of introspection and taking a more omnipotent perspective, the group moved from the prophetic into the historic pairing of “Eyes of the World”. From the onset, the droning of the horns intermixed with the borderless lap steel provided a billowing tapestry that kept the tune moving. Weir delivered the first solo against this backdrop and showed that his talents both in rhythm and melody have only improved with time.

When horns are around for any version of “Eyes of the World”, most fans recall the greatness of Branford Marsalis and The Grateful Dead in March of 1990. For this night, the ante was upped, as The Wolf Pack took turns revolving and evolving through the jam section, beginning with not saxophone, but trombone then saxophone, then fiddle, each producing a line with the next player picking up without pause from where the predecessor left off, keeping the cycle spinning for many measures to the delight of the band and audience alike.

As Eyes hit the 9-minute mark, the band shifted in unison to the first big surprise of the night, the debut cover of Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Goin’ On”, a surprise audibly and visually welcomed by everyone in the house. Between 2021 marking the 50th anniversary of the album of the same name and the message the tune evokes, it was probably both that inspired its introduction and placement. Although short lived at a little more than 3 minutes in length, the fact that it was well received and fit perfectly in the Eyes’ midpoint makes one hopeful it will not be the last time. Again, without falter, the band shifted back to Eyes and concluded the end with a series of upbeat exchanged punches between the horn section and the drums in call and response fashion. In the end, this section of the set clocked in at 16 minutes of bliss and talent.

Pausing for merely a handful of seconds, the band set out to finish what they had started the night before. On night one, the group converted the venue from amphitheater to Terrapin Station and for this night, the aim was to complete the conversion. Picking up where they left off, the band started up their debut of “Terrapin Transit”. From the first licks of the eerie intro to the Arabian groove, the band was on top of the changes throughout and it was discernable that this piece had been practiced to perfection. “Terrapin Transit” shifted into “At A Siding”, another debut for the band, and it was apparent that the band meant to complete the suite before departing the hallowed grounds, finishing off the ten-minute trifecta with “Terrapin Flyer”. Throughout the three-piece movement, Lane and Was thundered their surroundings to great delight, both their own as well as that of the capacity crowd. At times, Lane’s delivery sounded more like a multi-appendaged beast than single man at the kit. His timing was impeccable and there was nary a missed beat nor tom strike too many. From the audience perspective this auditory bliss had been experienced on a group level and was clearly recognized as a first for all from this new ensemble.

At the Terrapin close, Chimenti noodled a bit on his own as the rest of the band got a drink and caught their breath. When they were ready, the band came back together and laid out a soulful version of “The Days Between”, unhurried, heartfelt, and true. With Weir continuing at the vocal controls, hitting every lyric without incident, and demonstrating once again that whatever he is doing to stay young, vibrant, and connected is working exponentially. Again, the aqueous textures of the pedal steel contributed significantly to the ghostly feel and the droning fiddle support set the whole of the experience afloat.

As the reflection of “The Days Between” came to a close, the playful bounce of “China Cat Sunflower” emerged to initiate the close of the set. With its whimsical and ambiguous lyrics alongside the pep of its stride brought the crowd back into the sing along mode and got the 18000 plus feet up and moving once again. The floral feline got about 5 minutes of attention before the band moved to a succinct transition jam and as expected the segueing finale would be the normal pairing of the traditional tune “I Know You Rider”. As the rider began his journey, the audience cheered the band on in anticipatory elation with one final Colorado reference looming in the near future. Although the rider never reached a blistering speed and rather took a softer approach in many aspects, the quality of playing never degraded and the audience was treated to the shared Colorado lyric while being bathed in rich lighting as the band stared back into the once darkened void, now seeing thousands of faces sharing in the moment.

For the encore slot, the band chose yet another classic Dead number in “Ripple” and the audience was all too eager to sing right along with the band up to the final word.

In the end, the evening was near perfect: the sound was dialed in, the lights were diverse and well-choreographed, and the band did not sound anywhere near being off the road for 18 months. The show was well worth the price and everyone leaving the scene felt like what they paid for the experience was far too cheap for the end result. The level of talent that has surrounded Weir on his life long musical journey certainly is renowned and this latest infusion only shows that he still holds the magic that draws others to his flame and his vision sees far past the horizon into other lands, on future journeys, through other songs still unsung.

As we all know, tours and venues are opening across the country and with this, shows are being scheduled wherever there is an open night and music lovers everywhere are digging every minute of it. Recently Colorado has been blessed with a number of surprisingly great week mid-week shows, including Bob Weir last week, and this week the trend continues. On Wednesday, The Fox Theatre in Boulder hosted its first show since shutting down in March of 2020 and with such a special opportunity at hand, it was no wonder that to blow its doors open once again, the raw power and talent of Lukas Nelson & Promise of the Real were the band of choice. Not only was this the return of the Boulder concert staple after over a year, but for the band, this was the first of four-album release tour stops, including Chicago, Nashville, and Austin, to support their latest creation A Few Stars Apart.

The Fox Theatre, originally named the Rialto Theater, was built in 1926 and has served Boulder with a multitude of functions over the decades, including vaudeville theater, dance company, eatery, and movie house. In 1992 the venue morphed again and received a makeover with one thing in mind: quality for the live music enthusiast. From a state-of-the-art sound system to a ridiculous array of lights, this venue touts the highest caliber of aural and visual amenities for all who would pass through its doors in search of the note. It is no wonder that many groups from multiple genres have performed on its tiny stage with as big a grin as the mere 625 that the inner sanctum holds. In 2013, Rolling Stone named The Fox as the 4th best club in America and anyone who has attended a show there knows why.

Arriving to The Fox Theatre about 90 minutes before doors, it was very apparent that fans of Lukas Nelson and the band are a dedicated sort. Stretched out in front of the venue were approximately 50 die-hards who had been posted in their camping chairs for hours, smiling ear to ear knowing that due to the size of the venue they were going to be guaranteed a spot within feet of the band and the high energy they bring to the stage with every performance.

With the doors open, the floor was packed within 30 minutes, and it was easy to see that the sold-out status of the website was in fact a reality. With a start time of 8 pm, the band delayed until 8:15 just to ensure that no one would be left out for what would be a night of solid, southern infused, Texas swing that would leave everyone energized in the end.

The band began with a dynamite-packed rendition of “Start to Go” that got everyone moving from the first notes and it was clear that the band and sound were dialed in from the get-go. Next up was “Perennial Bloom”, the first of 7 songs from the new album that would be played throughout the night. This song is ballad meets rocker and was well received by the room. Keeping the energy high, Nelson brought out another apparent fan favorite in “4 Letter Word”. This number had the whole of the crowd singing right along, excitement accentuated with the house lights illuminating the crowd as the band and fans exchanged energy throughout the entirety of the tune. Taking the opportunity to let the room catch their breath, “Throwing Away Your Love”, another new tune, slowed things a bit, but kept everyone engaged. “Fool Me Once” is great honky-tonk number and was appropriately accentuated with the ragtime tickling of the upright piano.

Continuing to reveal more new material, the group performed three new tunes in a row. “More Than We Can Handle” showcased how much Lukas has not fallen far from the Willie family tree. Donning an acoustic guitar, the chord structure and the lyrical croon showed that when Willie was dolling out songwriting lessons over the years, Lukas had his ears open wide. This piece was gentle, folky, and again showed the versatility of Nelson and the band. “Leave ‘Em Behind” continued with the folk feel of its predecessor. Containing a similar riff to Neil Young’s “Old Man” at the head, the tune eventually gave way to a great bridge section and Nelson offered a short but sweet solo, resulting in a round of applause from the audience. Transitioning quickly to the piano, Nelson finished out the new material trifecta with the title track of the new album, another soft piece with depth and pause, sprinkled throughout with the talents of the pedal slide and the accents of percussive accompaniment.

Continuing with three more original tunes and fan favorites, the band gave up great renditions of “Forget About Georgia”, “Just Outside of Austin”, and “Carolina”, before moving into covers of Paul Simon’s “Diamonds on the Souls of Her Shoes” and Jimi Hendrix’s “Pali Gap”, both pulled off to exception that would make their original authors proud at the undertakings.

Returning to their latest creation, “Wildest dream” has a pop feel that speaks to that feeling of summer love during youth on sun-kissed days and starry nights, innocent, fun and carefree. The soul train hit the station in “Find Yourself” and contained a sing off between women and men and showcased the soulfulness of Nelson and his vocal range not only being able to go falsetto, but also being to sustain many of those high notes without showing any signs of fatigue. This tune also demonstrated that the band is just as incredible at playing quietly as they are at full volume and this proficiency is only exceeded by their ability to oscillate between these two dynamics in a single musical setting.

To close out the set, “Something Real” took the room on a jaunt deep into hard blues country that got the whole of the theater to getting down. Equipped with a driving bass line and thundering drums that packed a punch, the levels this tune had not only the audience going nuts, but the band members taking turns jumping off of the drum riser in wild displays of excitement.

For the first encore, “Set Me Down on a Cloud” and “The Awakening” were the songs of choice and with great renditions of both, with plenty of jam in the middle, it was clear that if there had not been a curfew in place, this band could have gone into the wee hours as they finished as strong as they had started.

The icing on the cake was a single song second encore, a piece written during the COVID shutdown and was presented with Nelson alone bathed in white light at the piano bench playing to a hushed crowd hanging on every word. “Smile” would be the final number of this memorable night and appropriately this is also the final track on the new album.

By the final notes of the single set show, the band clocked in at a little less than 2 hours and delivered one hell of a 20-song set that displayed the blues, soul, honky-tonk, southern rock, and the psychedelic in an effortless fashion that made it easy to see why many of those in attendance had come back to these performers time and time again for their original performances. As this was an album release party, it was great to hear at least 2/3rds of the new album in the live setting and certainly made this listener want to hear the rest. What this band brings to the stage is an eclectic catalog of well-rehearsed songs that are delivered with sincerity and a level of energy that transformed The Fox from a Rocky Mountain theater to a Texas Roadhouse, full of revelry, grit, emotion, and a shared experience that reflected that Lukas and Promise of the Real have a long, successful road ahead of them. Promise of the Real is comprised of Anthony LoGerfo on drums, Corey McCormick on Bass, Logan Metz on piano, pedal steel, guitar, and banjo, and Tato Melgar on percussion, and each member of this band is a talent of the highest regard. Throughout the night, there was no misstep and the group functioned as a well-Texas-oiled machine, both in improvisation and structure, and by the appearance of the chemistry on stage, the term family was communicated as genuine rather than cliché. As a novice to the Lukas Nelson world, this is certainly an experience that is well worth taking the ride again and again and again.

Setlist:

Start To Go, Perennial Bloom*, 4 Letter Word, Throwing Away Your Love*, Fool Me Once, More Than We Can Handle*, Leave ‘Em Behind*, A Few Starts Apart*, Forget about Georgia, Just Outside of Austin, Carolina, Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes (Simon), Pali Gap (Hendrix), Wildest Dream*, Find Yourself, Something Real

1st Encore: Set Me Down On A Cloud, The Awakening,

2nd Encore: Smile*

* Tracks from the newest album A Few Stars Apart

Although Colorado is well known for getting a tour stop by every big name in music, sometimes it is the local band that makes the night special, especially when gigging in any number of the state’s small clubs or outdoor venues. Last Friday, Tenth Mountain Division was one such band that brought the heat to Mishawaka Amphitheater, one of Northern Colorado’s best kept secrets nestled in the Poudre Canyon just outside of Fort Collins. With its stage constructed literally feet from the rushing river, TMD played to a sold-out crowd in celebration of their third album, Butte La Rose. Comprised of an army of powerful musicians, this group shook the trees and echoed the walls of the canyon for more than two hours as they delivered two sets of originals, covers, and jams that reflected their emotion of reaching yet another milestone in their seven-year career all the while doing so with many fans and friends who had supported the endeavor of the newly released album’s creation.

The history of the quintet shares the same tale as many of the groups that have also been born out of the Front Range, where Colorado Rockies meet Midwest meet East Coast. Starting out together in Vail, Colorado as a musical duo in high school, MJ Ouimette on guitar and Winston Heuga on mandolin are the original members from which the band was conceived. Eventually they would take on a bass player and form a bluegrass trio, but with an internal fire for improvisation, the traditional route was soon to change. The group took on the bombastic talent of Tyler Gwynn, a CU student who had come west from Massachusetts, and would forever change the path of the band from that high lonesome sound to the groove-driven, oscillating tempo machine the group produce today. The next talent to sign on was another Centennial native in Campbell Thomas, a classically trained piano man heralding out of Boulder and bringing another polished piece to this colorful conglomerate. At this point, it seemed that the band was set to take their improvisation and personality on the road, but hit a snag. The bass player, forgive me for not getting his name, was having a hard time committing to the vision of the other four and would not pull the trigger on loading up and hitting the road. As all great things are typically born out of some sort of struggle, the band’s solution finally arrived in 2016. With the meeting of Andrew Cooney and the soulful sounds of his low-end mastery and powerful vocals, the band finally had everything they needed to conquer the world, deliver their good times message, and form the obvious personal and professional connection demonstrated on stage night after night.

Butte La Rose is the band’s junior album and has been three years in the making. From the onset, the band wanted to deliver a high caliber album for the audience they had been building across the country for a handful of years as they toured and knew that in order to do this, it would take the support of those very fans. The band launched a Kickstarter campaign, and it was not long before the support they thought they had and hoped for in all those audiences they had entertained was in fact a reality. With the financial backing in hand, the band reached out to Tim Carbone of Railroad Earth to produce their latest creation. Carbone, who in recent years has also been a sought-after music producer for many acts in Colorado, graciously agreed and got to work supporting TMD in making yet another dream come true. The final product is a ten-track mixture of tunes that are infused with soul, funk, psychedelia, and Americana and that keep the listener engaged from start to finish.

For the live performance last Friday, the band played the album in its entirety and by the reaction of the audience, the money that was donated was well spent. The played pieces from each of their albums and had a horns section sit intermittently throughout the show. Everyone who showed up stayed until the last notes and at the pause for the encore, the crowd could be heard chanting, “Ten more songs! Ten More Songs!” and meant it. The whole show was high energy and showcased each of the band member’s talents and dedication to the whole. As someone who had never heard the band, this soul was pleasantly surprised and had a hard time sitting still long enough to take notes and make photographs, my feet wanting to boogie as my grin widened with each new piece of music to these unaccustomed ears.

As a novice to TMD, I had to ask the band what the title of the album was all about and got a great, unexpected story from MJ Ouimette:

We had just started out tour a few years back and made it out of Colorado and were struck with vehicle troubles right off the bat in Kansas. The transmission in Dorothy, our beloved school bus, had to be replaced and cost thousands of dollars and we hadn’t even played our first gig of the tour. Cash poor, but undeterred, we continued and were heading to the South, where many of our best gigs and packed shows had been played. The next show for us was a gig in New Orleans, a show we were all excited for and so with Dorothy resurrected we headed out. We got about two hours outside of The Big Easy when Dorothy started making the most awful sounds and quickly decelerated. As if this wasn’t bad enough, at that moment, we were on a road, with no shoulder and nothing but water and swamp on either side. We put on the hazards and waited, dumbfounded, not knowing what the hell we were going to do. Eventually a highway patrol man came by with obvious concerns about us being essentially in the road and directed us to the next exit just a little further up. Somehow, we made it to the exit and to a shuttered gas station with a sign that read Butte La Rose. This was not only the name of the gas station but also the community that had once been there. So here we are in the middle of nowhere in a place with no services and we have already conceded that we won’t be making the New Orleans show while at the same time unsure if we will be able to make good on the tour at all, let alone make it home. As we sat there trying to figure out just what we were going to do, a couple of guys came out from behind the gas station where they and what can only be described as a band of gypsies had set up camp and asked us if we needed any help. Their accents were deep Cajun, to the point where many times we had to ask them to repeat themselves, as what they were saying was unintelligible to us while to each other, it was all perfectly clear. Now these characters were straight out of a movie: missing teeth, dirty clothes, worn hands, and if it weren’t for the dire straits, we were in, we might have been a little more concerned. We explained who we were and what we were doing and without question or hesitation, these southern gentlemen popped the hood on Dorothy and began inspecting every inch of her in order to get us back on the road. Eventually the culprit was discovered: somehow the gas tank had imploded and the gas lines had run dry. With this news, we thought for sure this was the end even before it began. As hope seemed to be fleeting from us, the creole creativity was not lost on these good folks sent across our path to get us back on the road. For the next few hours those individuals tinkered with Dorothy and every time we tried to tell them not to waste any more of their time, they would mutter between one another and turn to us, telling us they were going to try one more thing. With cigarettes dangling out of their mouths, they finally settled on removing the gas tanks and using a compressor, filled the crushed container with air until if regained some sort of normal shape. They brought us some gas from their encampment, filled the tank and then proceeded to try to get the engine to turn over. Multiple attempts were made, and the creole kindness never gave way and finally, with another turn of the key, Dorothy came to life. There hasn’t been a day that we have been on the road when we haven’t thought of those angel people and wondered if they were even real. Sometime later, on another adventure to and through the south, we pulled into the abandoned town of Butte La Rose just to see if they were still there. The gas station was there and all the abandoned buildings, but nary soul greeted us. So, when we started tossing around the idea of what to name our latest album, someone threw out the name of that fateful town and that was it, no more discussion, the decision was made.

For those who haven’t seen Tenth Mountain Division, these guys are well worth the price of admission. Their songs are heart felt and their improvisation is top notch. They have a flair for the comedic, but take the interlude as serious as anyone else out there making the magic happen. They are hungry and appreciate every applause they get and have a long, successful road ahead of them.

Check out more photos from the show.

For the 26th time in 28 years, Blues Traveler returned to Red Rocks Amphitheatre on Sunday for their annual Independence Day celebration. Although it was the Fourth of July, the band and crowd celebrated freedom on a number of levels outside of the national holiday, including freedom from COVID, from masks, from isolation. With the exception of a one-off benefit gig in the spring, this show also marked the band’s return to the stage since March of 2020 and if all of this wasn’t enough to bring the energy in the pillared vault to a head, the band also recently announced a July 30th release date of their 14th studio creation Traveler’s Blues, comprised of a collection of blues standards that boasts to host a number of great names in music, including Warren Haynes, John Scofield, Keb’ Mo' and more. For those who have followed the black cat for the last 35 years and always saved the 4th of July for Blues Traveler, this concoction of absence, awaiting, and the promise of new material on their first night back in over a year would be just the right ingredients to make a special night both magical and memorable as the band reclaimed their saved seat at the Red Rocks table.

Hitting the parking lot around 4 pm, lines were already forming at multiple entrances to the venue with the greatest gathering being in the upper south lot. The first two guys in line, present and alone, were literally a tale of two cities. The first being a native of the Denver area who had seen enough shows at Red Rocks that he couldn’t place the first time he had seen a show there, while the second being a recent transplant from Chicago, newly relocated to Colorado Springs who had never seen Blues Traveler nor an event at the venue. About 30 deep into the line was a group of 6 from Wisconsin who had made their way from the upper Midwest to the Rockies to cross Red Rocks off of their bucket list and had been fans of the band for a long time. With ear-to-ear smiles, they happily discussed their history, being friends since their youth and had continued their friendships into adulthood. With occupations in manufacturing, the group expressed how they had always wanted to attend the July 4th BT shows, but always put it off and that the pandemic shutdown had helped them re-evaluate their musical priorities and already, standing in the red dirt parking lot on a partly cloudy mid-seventies day, they were already living their dream. The line contained faces of every decade and everyone seemed happy enough just to be outside, but with the promise of music in the near future, from child to geriatric, one could already feel the tingling of anticipation.

The opener of the night was Robert Finley, a 67-year-old bluesman heralding out of Louisiana who fit the bill to the tee: a voice brimming with gruff and growl, black wide brimmed hat, and a smile a mile long. Accompanied by a strong trio and his daughter on back-up vocals, Finley took the crowd to church and got the whole place up on its feet, hands waving in the air, within the first few minutes of his 45-minute set. Of particular note was his vocal range, especially at the altitude of Morrison, and being able to deliver on the soulful low end while reaching for, obtaining, and carrying the falsetto with ease, for extended periods of time, all the while showing no sign of needing a break or moment to catch his breath. His tunes came one after another and the only thing bigger than his passion was his smile that he wore from start to finish.

At a bit past nine, the main event took the stage. Popper came center place and gave a call to arms, “Red Rocks!!!!!!!!!!!!” as the crowd echoed back in excitement, the house lights lighting the crowd top to bottom, giving the band the opportunity to pose for a group photo with 10,000 fans as a backdrop. Popper continued, humorously stating “We’re sorry we are about a year late. A funny thing happened on the way to the Rocks last year…” Popper continued, “On behalf of CNN, I am authorized to declare normalcy in America. Good work everybody! Nothing left to worry about”, a remark that had the rest of the band laughing, while the crowd called back with unintelligible frenetic energy, anxiously awaiting the floodgates of sound to open.

With an electrified audience in tow, the band glanced at each other one final time and tore off with an over-the-top version and appropriate choice in “Things Are Looking Up” to get things going. It was clear that the band was ready for their return to the stage and with the sound dialed in, they laid out the first grinding groove of the night, grit filled and dirty, and demonstrated that they had only aged better with the time away. Without a pause, the Brothers Kinchla ripped into “Save His Soul” with Ben Wilson taking over midway on the keys, showing his ability to get weird as he shifted between major and minor phrases while mutating between clean piano sounds, distorted synth, and finally taking it higher with the Leslie effect and an organ solo that ended with the band dropping right into “Runaround” without missing a beat.

At the finish of “Runaround”, Popper paused the festivities for a moment and filled the crowd in on that the band had been working on a new album during the pandemic. Popper continued, asking the audience to help him welcome the evening’s opener vocal powerhouse and blues elder Robert Finley to the stage to join the group for their first rendition ever of the blues standard “Ball and Chain”. Throughout the song, line after line was delivered by Finley and his delivery met Popper’s at every turn, and although he stood a few decades deeper than the band’s leader, his talent showed no signs of waning or fatigue, grinning ear to ear as he belted out the lyrics with every part of his soul. At the tune’s end, the crowd thanked Finley with a standing ovation for his contribution while Popper stated “Wow! That is a true voice right there!”, lighting the crowd up again in agreement.

Keeping the energy rolling, the band moved quickly into a ferocious take of “Mulling It Over," hard driving and thumping. Halfway through, the piece slowed and took on a watery, spacey dynamic and the band members wove in and out of the head for multiple measures with marked improvisation before returning to the final stanza of lyrics. Again, and without notice, the band changed direction with another fan favorite “But Anyway” that kept the quick tempo of the set firing on all cylinders. Five songs in, it was clear that the band had not wasted time at home getting rusty, but rather had stayed sharp and well oiled, prepared for their return.

Being the candid conversationalist he is, Popper addressed the fans again and thanked CNN for broadcasting part of the show. He reflected on the year and his hat, informing the crowd, as he looked at his black, chrome-banded hat, that 2020 was the year he was supposed to wear this hat. He continued, telling the crowd how much the band had missed the fans and that all their performances over the last three decades were really all about the fans. With that final sentiment, he flung his hat with great verve, swinging for the rafters, but alas fell short, landing the head covering somewhere between rows one and two and commented with insincere frustration,” Worst throw ever”. With his head now being equitable to that American symbol of freedom, the bald eagle, Popper performed his best Hendrix-esque “Star Spangled Banner”, riddled with distortion and feedback to the delight of the crowd.

At the national anthem’s shrill ending, the band glided softly into the familiar ballad “Mountains Win Again”, and as expected being in the Rockies, the crowd responded to the mountain reference and their Fourth of July staple with a quiet joy, smiling, swaying, and taking their first break from what can only be described as a high-octane infusion up until this point.

At its close, Popper returned to the microphone and waxed on the fact that this was the band’s first gig back and, in the band’s minds, the question that the audience is asking was,” Do you guys still got it?”. Popper continued, stating that “We pretty much have shown you what we got, except for Chan, and what everyone wants to know (Chan) is “Do you still got it?”. Chan looked out to the crowd, and without hesitation he simply said, “Yeah” and went into Tom Petty’s “Mary Jane’s Last Dance," taking lead vocals and changing the opening lyrics to “she was born in a Colorado town," eliciting a strong reaction from everyone who caught it.

A standard “Conquer Me” followed the cover and at its sweet resolution, Popper and Chan departed the stage, leaving Ben Wilson, Brendan Hill, and Tad Kinchla to showcase their talents. Laying out a swirling melody, the trio jammed for over 8 minutes, each pushing the other, and showing everyone their stand-alone chemistry, which, simply put, was amazing, proficient, and a spectacle within itself.

Shifting gears again, Tad, Chan, and Hill left the stage, while Wilson remained at the keys and supported Popper’s return with a moving and emotional “Ode from the Aspect," which Popper dedicated to the fans and his daughter prior to his absolute deep execution of this evocative piece.

To close out the two hour single set, the band tore it up in all the right ways with a great take on “What’s For Breakfast” which segued into a thunderous and blurred drum solo from the live wire Brenden Hill, who, like the rest of the band after all this passed time, showed no signs of pause or weariness, and eventually landed the whole of the locale into the finishing favorite “Hook”, complete with a full audience singalong.

Exiting for only a moment, the band returned to the calls and chants for more, smiles displayed in every direction and all eyes focused stage side. To send everyone out with a bang, the band unleashed another debut in one more track from their upcoming studio release in the well-known Son Seals’ blues tune “Funky Bitch," which was immediately recognized and gave everyone one last chance to expend whatever bit of energy they had left in danceable abandon. Pushing curfew already, at the songs final note, the house lights came up immediately, and the dazed and enthused crowd was set free into the night to regale their tales with the five-headed black cat that had crossed their path and left them enchanted and in awe.

From the first notes to the end, the sandstone surroundings shook with the synergy of the band and crowd as Popper ripped out line after line of ridiculous harmonica lines while the band pushed the groove down the auditory road in a fashion that neither reflected anytime off the road nor 35 years of exhaustive touring. The band seemed genuine in its gratitude towards the audience and the time away from the reflective faces probably emphasized to them how lucky they were to have received the welcome they got time and time again, especially under the grandeur of those iconic columns. In all honesty, no weak link was detected throughout the night and the fact that John Popper is able to sing unceasingly at this altitude all the while oscillating like a machine through the mouth organ makes his talent not only distinguishable but show stopping and nothing short of incredible. The whole of the band is also an unstoppable force in and of themselves. From the start of the show to its close, Tad Kinchla’s physical workout on stage is only surpassed by his digital agility, his fingers moving in triple time over what his body is doing. Chan Kinchla also makes good on the family name, effortlessly and unceasingly laying out a constituent of unbroken sound, cycling between rhythm and lead with a kiddish grin, especially when interacting directly with those lucky enough to get sat in front of him. Ben Wilson plays as though he has extra appendages and the grimaces he carries especially when going deep in the grime reflect that he truly feels the music being channeled through him. Although he can conceive in the dark, his ability to lilt and bend heart and emotion makes him a great compliment and juxtaposed balance to the band’s sound, providing that gentle touch that contributes to the uniqueness of the band. Master resonator and the pulse of the group, Brenden Hill is more myth than man, embodying the raw energy of Thor the god of thunder while keeping the path on track as Kronos the god of time. He is also able to subdue the primal, slowing meter and tempering magnitude, all the while listening with ears wide open for the change. Seeing the band once again invigorated this listener to the magic Blues Traveler brings to the stage. They are far from a one-trick pony and swing it as hard as any rock and roll band while adding enough improvisation to produce the awe. It is great to see that after 35 years, this brotherhood of talent shows no signs of stopping and seem to feel right at home where they are. Although most believe that if a black cat crosses your path it leads to bad luck, in the case of this feline, it is highly recommended that you do not avoid the intersection, but rather run right for it and prepare for the fortuitous result of the unexpected.

Check out more photos from the show.

With summer in full swing and restrictions going out the window, Colorado has had a continuous influx of incredible entertainment, with many artists selecting the Rocky Mountains for their tour openers and album release parties. Friday saw this theme continued at the Aggie Theatre in Fort Collins with the talented souls of Rachael & Vilray employing the intimate venue to kick off their summer tour. With 11 dates over the next three weeks, this evening’s entertainment was billed as a sit-down show with a capacity of 300 and nary a seat was squandered as the music community continued to take full advantage of every great opportunity to congregate and share in the auditory experience.

The dynamic duo delivered 18 tunes in a single hour set that included most of the inaugural album as well as covers from yesteryear by The Mills Brothers, American pianist Louis Alter, and familiar numbers including “Try a Little Tenderness” and the Latin love ballad “Nosotros”. All the pieces were played with such proficiency that to the naïve ear there was no distinction between originals and the creations of others, both performed in an unhurried manner and handled with care. The banter that connected the musical pieces was welcomed by all and initiated such a level of comfort that at times the audience engaged the performers openly with questions and comments rather than passively taking it all in, an experience Rachael and Vilray candidly accepted and kept rolling throughout the night.

For those who do not know the group, Vilray is an original artist based in New York City who shares his gifts with the planet on a number of levels. From guitar to graphic art, this gentleman exudes talent, creating original compositions and commissioned works with both the pick and paper. His playing is effortless, and his ability is only shadowed by his tremendous personality, wit, and smile that light and fill any room he enters. Rachael Price is best known as the pipes for the indie pop rock group with a lot of soul known as Lake Street Dive. Always delivering regardless of which stage she finds herself on, her performance last night was exceptional due to its stripped-down fashion that truly exemplified her vocal range and control. The two met while studying music at the New England Conservatory in Boston and the world has certainly become a better place for it.

Their two voices meld and complement each other in a way that short of sounding overindulgent, were made for each other. Their shared love of jazz, swing, and pop from the early 20th century made them fast friends and has fueled what many hope will be a long-standing shared experience on the stage.

From a technical standpoint, the two genuinely capture the sound of the thirties and forties in both harmony and meter, while viscerally, their delivery warms the heart with a purity that is all flow and no show. The banter and comedy between the two reads genuine and comes off more like two friends having the time of their life rather than schtick, while still maintaining an air of authenticity for the entertainment period from which their show is derived. For any fan of the voices and sounds of the likes of Fitzgerald, Goodman, Mercer, and Day, this dyad does that era justice and creates a space that is their own and makes an hour seem like so much more.

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Last Monday & Tuesday, Billy Kreutzmann brought his latest incarnation of the Kids to the mainland to play a two-night blowout at the sandstone mecca Red Rocks. Originally slated as a single show, tickets sold out almost instantly and in light of this demand, the call for more was answered. The response: another sold out show. With the triad of tailgaters, tapers, and tie dyes in tow, the Deadicated came from across the land and once again rolled up the mountain searching for the sound in hopes of catching a little magic as the music played the band. Outside of the usual progeny in Reed Mathis on bass, Aaron Magner on keys, and Tom Hamilton on guitar, the family welcomed James Casey’s huge talent on saxophone and vocals and the illustrious Billy Strings on guitar, whose name says it all.

On Tuesday, the band nailed two sets of jam-filled numbers and performed as though they had been playing night after night on an endless tour rather than being a group with only a handful of shows together under their belt and containing new members. The setlist was riddled with Grateful Dead classics and many tunes from the Jerry Garcia repertoire and each piece was handled in a way that reflected a deep connection for all rather than just a run through the numbers. Anyone who is familiar with Billy and his children know that the group, even with their sporadic outings over the years, are a tight unit of quality players who exist at the top of their game in their own musical universes, and with the addition of the equal standings of Casey and Strings, it was no surprise that the concoction created by the mad scientist Kreutzmann was to be no less than the already high bar set by the ensemble.

No Dead show in Colorado would be complete without a few magical moments and Tuesday was no different. During the run of “Me and My Uncle”, “Mama Tried”, and “Dire Wolf” in the first set, the band welcomed out Greensky Bluegrass mandolinist Paul Hoffman, affording him plenty of room to get down in the group and shower the crowd with aural delight. As if that wasn’t enough magic for the crowd, during this time the venue was filled with wind, a little rain, and at its terminus, a double rainbow colored the southern sky to the delight of all within eye shot of the spectacle.

Throughout the night, the band gelled without exception. The interplay between Hamilton and Strings was spot on and both communicated in the tunes as though they had been raised together. Casey’s talent in saxophone is known by most with his journey in the Trey Anastasio Band, but what seemed to be the hidden secret finally let out of the bag was his amazing vocal range and strength, a fact that will not soon be forgotten and had many hoping that Trey would pen some numbers for him to sing in the near future. Magner filled the spaces between with synth wizardry and carried so much energy onstage he often couldn’t decide between sitting or standing as he shifted between the multiple set ups he had at his disposal. The giant in Reed Mathis came calling all night long and his often-regarded unique delivery fit the order as he thundered the low end, shaking the bones of the participants, while also making time to let his accoutrement sing in the higher octaves, lifting spirits in the soft lilting spaces.

At many times, Kreutzmann was seen sitting back behind his kit, smiling from the inside out, and looking around at not only the 10,000 fans before him, but at these players assembled, seemingly satisfied that Grateful Dead music, music he had a hand in creating, had inspired these fine gentlemen to develop and excel as musicians and in this revelation, the music, in yet another of many avenues will continue long past his passing. At the close of the show, the band took time for a group bow and stood at the front of the stage for a few minutes in what seemed like an effort to glance with appreciation into each ticket holder’s eyes and share a smile if only for a moment. As the crowd disappeared into the night, walking down the myriad of ramps with their steep grades, many wondered when will Billy brings his kids out to play again because years is just too damned long.

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This past weekend the 49th presentation of the bluegrass community staple RockyGrass came to a close and once again, the gathering was a rousing success. Presented with the care and talents of the illustrious Planet Bluegrass, attendees were treated to three days of local, regional, and national talents inspired by the Appalachian sound. As is customary with this family friendly festival, equipped with onsite camping, all age access to the cool waters of the North St. Vrain river, and the picturesque red rock canyon walls that surround the grounds, RockyGrass sold out like so many years before and attendance on Sunday, its final day, reflected that most, if not all, of the lucky souls who had tickets for the three day festival stayed all the way to the last note.

First sponsored by Bluegrass Godfather Bill Monroe in 1972, this festival has hosted an unimaginable number of magical musical moments, including reunions, tributes, and amazing sit-ins by those at the top of their stringed game. Every year, that promise is what has driven so many patrons back to the sleepy town of Lyons on the Front Range of Colorado. This year one such reunion came in the creative combination of Peter Rowan and Jerry Douglas. Although these two bluegrass legends have shared the stage in other collaborations and guest sit-ins over the years, Sunday’s blue hued afternoon was the first time these two had performed as a duo since touring their 1996 release Yonder.

The set these two shared was perfect for the day of rest, telling stories and exchanging banter as an attentive audience listened and laughed along for 90 minutes, taking in every musical note and enjoying historical recollections of the songs and tales from their multi-decade careers.

After nearly three decades, the music itself was surprisingly without falter, whether it being that these gentlemen are just that good or incredible at covering the mistakes, the former being the probable, as nary an unsatisfied face could be seen across the green field. Although Rowan and Douglas had the album Yonder to pull material from, only three of the 15 songs performed originated from the recording.

The friendship and camaraderie of these two giants is as real as it comes, as the two spent a great deal of time before and after their set catching up, exchanging stories, and filling their space with that joyous laughter that comes from deep within the soul when one is with another that they are connected to through a long history and genuine kinship.

Going back and listening to the purity of Yonder as well as experiencing the RockyGrass set, it would certainly be a shame if these two didn’t get together again in the near future, maybe even performing the album in its entirety. Although ever seeing another album by these two as a duo may be more than wishful thinking, after the applause and recognition of the audience on Sunday, it seems like it would be widely welcomed and I know at least 5000 people who would be in for more.

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Over the weekend, the Tedeschi Trucks Band made their annual return to Red Rocks Amphitheatre and once again gave the sold-out crowd four solid sets of soulful magic and hair-raising guitar work over two nights. This year’s presentation took a different approach, as Tedeschi Trucks typically tour their Wheels of Soul line-ups around the country, but in light of the pandemic, the band presented their Fireside Sessions, a concept born out of Derek and Susan’s living room for webcasts during the shutdown. Although the Fireside Sessions line-up has been described as paired down, the sound delivered was anything but.

The ensemble included the namesakes as well as the usual suspects in Tyler Greenwell on drums, Mike Mattison on vocals and acoustic guitar, and relative newcomers Gabe Dixon and Brandon Boone on keys and bass, respectively. Friday night’s show got an extra special treat with the announcement of the first-time inclusion of New Orleans based multi-instrumentalist Isaac Eady to take the vacant second drum kit throne for the foreseeable future. Sans the rich sounds of the absent brass section, it was business as usual for the Tedeschi Trucks Band all weekend long.

As the weather in the Rocky Mountains is often billed as unpredictable, that warning became reality for the two-night run. For the opening night, the band was able to make it through the entirety of the written setlist for the first set, but as the wind up for the “Idlewind” closer hit its peak, a corresponding deluge of pea-sized hail, lightning and sheets of rain fell from the heavens, sending everyone running for cover and put the venue on a nearly 90-minute weather delay. By the time the band came back to heat the bones of those left standing, the venue was at half capacity, but for those who endured, the band made it worth their while, delivering a full second set, in spite of the delay, including a thundering closer in the Allman’s classic “Whipping Post”. Night two saw more of the same with the exception of the meteorological drama, as Mother Nature delivered a steady rain for most of the day and throughout the night, without incident of delay or mass evacuation. Set two on night two also got the special treatment with guitar virtuoso Nels Cline sitting in for the full set and covering a multitude of Allman Brothers tunes.

It is hard to say whether it was the love of music, the love of the TTB, the love of being able to get out again, or a combination of all these elements that kept fans boogieing in light of the inclement weather, but one thing is for certain: those who did got what they paid for and then some. It was outstanding to see the band want to make good on their return as much as the crowd was willing to support it.

Susan was all smiles and showed no signs of deterrence by the environment, giving a great heartfelt performance, and per the usual, effectively connecting with everyone in the room. Derek maintained his sphynx-like demeanor, but let his fingers do the talking, getting down to business from the onset of the first note and making sure everyone was exceedingly rattled in a good way all the way through. The solidarity of the rest of the band went without question, including the new addition of Isaac Eady and Gabe Dixon was also notably channeling Gregg Allman on night two and proved that his talents don’t end at the 88th key. Many of the fans who attended this weekend reported that they loved the small changes to the group and embraced the difference but reported they can’t wait for the return of the full band. This aspect coupled with the environmental adventure certainly created a memorable weekend for all and proved once again that at least one draw of the live music experience that keeps pulling people back to the stands is its unpredictability.

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The Mishawaka Amphitheater is a mystical place that lies somewhere between a state highway and a river in northern Colorado. It is one of those venues that most have heard of, even seen pictures of, but surprisingly, many in the region still remark that they have not set foot on its storied grounds. For others, this is a dynamic they would like to keep in place for fear that the secret will get out and future events and tickets would be more difficult to secure than they often already are. For over 100 years, The Mish, as it is affectionately called, has stood the tests of fire and flood and has been widely regarded as a place where magic occurs on the regular, hosting numerous acts for decades that have since become too large to play on its wooden river stage. Last weekend was no different.

Saturday and Sunday got the musical treatment from the jamgrass community favorite Yonder Mountain String Band and boy did these players deliver. Playing to back-to-back sold-out crowds, the group threw down three unforgettable sets to a sea of ecstatic fans. Supported by the high energy of Buffalo Commons on night one and the eclectic sounds of The Sweet Lillies plus wildmen Tuttle, Pool, & Greul for night two, the band made sure that everyone leaving the venue at the close of the weekend had more than a handful of memories to take home with them.

As often great things are born out of drama, Friday was wrought with uncertainty. With last summer’s epic fires in the northland saddled with the unseasonal amount of rain experienced in the area recently, these two dynamics had left the terrain set for landslides. With two landslides transpiring within days of the planned dates and more rain on the horizon, the Department of Forestry had already put the venue on watch and as of early Friday, it seemed likely that the venue would need to be changed, the shows rescheduled, or the whole event cancelled. With the deepest desire to see the show go on, both Yonder’s incredible management team and the dynamic production team of the Mishawaka shifted into overdrive and made phone call after phone call trying to secure another venue that would be capable of supporting 1000 fans for two nights at the last minute. At the close of each call, option after option had the open potential, but due to the late hour, staffing and supplies seemed to be the biggest barriers, and by Friday’s end, both teams came up short and there was still no exit plan. Saturday morning at 9:30 was to be the final phone call from the Department of Forestry and by the 10 o’clock hour, the powers that be gave a green light to the venue and the show was to go on.

Colorado born, Yonder Mountain String Band and its Kinfolk support have a deep connection to the Rocky Mountains and this part of the country and returning to the tiny stage of The Mish was certainly an emotional and historic moment for many inside its walls. Throughout the weekend, the band made many references to the love they held for the venue, not only as players with their own tales of their early years, but also as audience members themselves, seeing many others perform there who would contribute to their own development. As this was also the band’s first return to the venue since 2004, it was easy to detect that this weekend gave them pause, not only in nostalgia, but as a reflection of how far they had come delivering their personal take on the musical experience that so many have cherished for nearly three decades.

At one point, the band questioned the audience, polling the attendees by a show of hands, of just how many in attendance were there 17 years earlier at their last performance on the banks of the Poudre River. Surprisingly and yet not so much, there were at least 30 sets of hands raised and were counted as witnesses to the band’s journey, including one who, on Friday, celebrated her 200th Yonder show. Having such a close relationship with their fanbase and always showing the deepest appreciation for their support, the band took time to note this fan’s milestone and asked everyone in the house to help them celebrate the journey alongside her, the patronage doing so in kind by erupting in applause as the band and the single fan took it all in with smiles as wide as the riverbank itself.

For many fans, the experience of the weekend was akin to being transported back in time, getting to see their favored band again in such intimate surroundings under the Colorado sky, and with so many with the same emotional connection as themselves. This feeling also seemed to be reciprocated in the band, as often members were seen sitting out taking in the opening bands and exchanging genuine conversations, unhurried and natural, with those nearby. In the end, for many involved, whether player or listener, this weekend was a homecoming of sorts and played out with awe and beauty on so many levels. From the natural surroundings to the surreal isolation of the location to the connection with so many familiar faces, this emotional concoction certainly played a role in the next level playing the band demonstrated. At the weekend’s close, some in the audience commented that the magic the weekend had held had actually reinvigorated that love of music and the band that drew them in all those years ago and were already trying to figure when and where their next show would be.

For those outside the know, the band is comprised of Ben Kaufmann on electric and acoustic bass, Dave Johnston on banjo, Adam Aijala on acoustic guitar, Allie Kral on fiddle, and Nick Piccininni on mandolin. The chemistry that band is currently producing onstage is something not to be missed. Whether it is fueled by COVID or the band’s upcoming new album, the band is currently touring a great combination of mastery and precision alongside improvisation, surprise, and explosive moments that is drawing the crowd in night after night. Kaufman continues to lay down the steadfast timing of the band and does this without the aid of drums, a feat unto itself, while contributing a significant vocal range to the band’s delivery.

Allie Kral is a fireball of electricity, often coming off somewhere between a kid in a candy store and mad banshee as she saws her way through ripping solos, delivering notes with such fury it is a wonder her instrument hasn’t caught fire, while also being a significant contributor vocally.

Dave Johnston roles out his banjo lines effortlessly and is consistently listening with open ears for opportunity to accentuate the theme while never afraid to take the charge and deliver the lead. He is often the instigator of stage banter and dead pan comedy, making what he does on the banjo even that much more noticeable with its stark contrast to his subdued onstage persona.

Adam Aijala is a flat picker through and through and delivers on the craft with a focused facial expression and lightning quick fingers. His stringed talents match his vocals and the two together make him a distinct and integral sound to the band’s identity.

The newest member Nick Piccininni has infused a great deal into the band. He not only plays mandolin but delivers in a big way on the banjo and fiddle as well. The multi-instrumentalist dynamic is certainly not wasted on this group, as Piccininni is often pulled into duels with his counterparts depending on the instrument he is toting. Nick operates with a confidence on stage that no one would guess he was new to the band and what he delivers turns everyone’s energy up to eleven. As a whole, Yonder Mountain String Band is on the road continuing to make good on their tried-and-true name and are again upping their game with the infusion of new material and tour dates across the country.

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In November of 2019, Chris and Rich Robinson announced that in 2020, the two would reunite and bring the rock and roll force of The Black Crowes on a cross-country tour to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the group’s inaugural powerhouse album Shake Your Money Maker. The tour was to cover the continental United States and bring the southern love back to the fans who had been calling for a long-awaited reunion. The turbulence of the sibling relationship has been no secret among the musical world, so with the announcement of reconciliation and an accompanying tour of an album revered by both hard-core followers as well as casual listeners, it was no surprise that when tickets went on sale, night after night sold out almost immediately. As we all know the Shake Your Money Maker tour of 2020 never happened. As shows were rescheduled, postponed, and straight up canceled due to the global COVID pandemic, many wondered if the revived connection between Rich and Chris would last long enough to see their feathered dreams take flight once again and provide opportunity to witness the energy and drive of the album that had started it all and been a part of their personal soundtrack for three decades.

2020 came and went and no announcements were made calling for refunds so as the faithful stood by with fingers crossed, the flock entered 2021. As summer approached, the caw-ling came to fruition and the Brothers Robinson made good on their promise, setting out on the road at the tail end of July to deliver what most thought would be nothing more than wishful thinking.

Earlier this week, the tour made its midway stop at the revered Red Rocks Amphitheater in Morrison, Colorado and brought fans to their feet once again during back-to-back sold-out nights. Although this was no surprise, what was surprising was the turn out for shows scheduled on a Sunday and Monday, revealing how much those in attendance weren’t just catching a show, but were taking advantage of what might never happen again and in such a special place. Speaking to fans before the show, it was apparent that many had traveled from out of state for the self-proclaimed once in a lifetime opportunity and none were found before, during or after with a regret or second thought about undertaking this pilgrimage.

Monday night’s show got started promptly at 7:30 pm with the hard driving opener Dirty Honey. This Los Angeles quartet wasted no time showing who they were to the audience and ticket holders across the venue appeared more than appeased with what they were hearing, many standing to their feet with a pumped fist and taking the sweet ride of this band on the rise.

Following the opener, the stage was transformed from its easily recognizable concrete slab with its sandstone background to a bar scene, equipped with wood floors, a full bar with a bartender in a three-piece suit, as well as a southern porch scene pulled directly for a Georgian shotgun house. As the lights dimmed, a number of bargoers made their way on stage and took their seats at stools, receiving libations from the proprietor of the establishment, and socializing with each other, occasionally turning to the crowd and lifting a drink in salutations to the onlookers. For those down close to the scene, it was easy to see that some of those getting served were the actual band members. Eventually, two twenty-somethings made their way to center stage, arriving at an illuminated jukebox. Peering through the window to make their selection, the two dropped their coins, pushed a few buttons, and cued up the Elmore James hit “Shake Your Money Maker”. After a few measures and a few more sips of the lips, the members at the bar pulled away from their compadres and took up their appropriate spots on stage under dim light.

From stage left, Rich Robinson stepped out under a solitary spotlight and bathed in crisp white light, picked the familiar introductory notes of “Twice as Hard”, the first track on Shake Your Money Maker, as 10000 patrons cheered on. When the band dropped in, nailing the timing exactly and launching the rock and roll event into drive, Chris Robinson, who had been sitting on the drum riser, hidden under a Black Crowes logoed parasol, pushed the prop to the sky, jumping to his feet and greeted the multitude with a familiar strut and Cheshire grin, acknowledging that this Monday night party was under way.

For almost two hours and a single set, the band not only ran through the entire inaugural album, performing it with the reverence it deserved, but also delivered a second half chockful of deep cuts and fan favorites without ever pausing or leaving the stage. Besides the performance of Otis Redding’s “Hard to Handle”, the only cover of the night was the encore and came in the form of The Rolling Stone’s “It’s Only Rock and Roll”. By the time the finale closed, and the band took their bow under a standing ovation, it was clear that the group had rehearsed and made efforts to put this all together in the right way. No detail was left out and the vibe was like that of yesteryear when a young Atlanta band was tearing up and driving those around them into an ecstatic visceral state that can only be defined as the live wire electricity that runs through rock and roll you feel rather than hear.

Although some purists and naysayers balked at the idea of seeing the band’s return without all the original members, stating it wouldn’t be the same, one simple statement comes to mind: could have fooled me! It was no surprise that the Brothers of the Feather employed heavy hitters to round out the sound and it was great to see genuine exchange as equals among the cast rather than a hired gun dynamic supporting a showboating lead. Specifically, Isiah Mitchell on guitar is a great counterpart to Rich Robinson’s stylings and snaked his way between lead and rhythm with ease. He was regarded as “The Red Rocks Ripper” by Chris Robinson and at the night’s close, the moniker was well earned. Brian Griffin on the drums kept all the stringed pieces pulled in tight and kept the cadence moving effortlessly, all the while exuding the needed thunder to do the Crowes concoctions justice. Regarded as “looking scary, but being full of rainbows and unicorns”, Joel Robinow delivered all the southern charm of the keys. With his fills of B3 organ sounds spinning that Leslie to the piano solos and everything in between, there certainly was no word of anyone stating they wished they would have heard more out of him. Rounding out the southern sound and bringing that gospel dynamic home, Leslie Grant and Mackenzie Adams were the songbird choir in the rock and roll church.

The past aside, witnessing the chemistry between Rich and Chris again was invigorating and gave hope that the band might have more outings in the future instead of this tour being a one-off. The two shared smiles on stage and took opportunities to sing together often at the same mic. It was also apparent that neither have lost their spark for the stage and gave every bit of themselves from start to finish. In the end, justice was served by the Brothers Robinson, for themselves, the fans, and the true legacy that is The Black Crowes.

Check out more photos from the show.

Phish just wrapped up their annual three-night run at Dick’s Sporting Goods Park just north of Denver. Playing to near capacity audiences, the jam band jesters brought out the goods in spades with a combinations of bust outs, covers, and some serious jams. This year also marked the ten-year anniversary since JEMP began playing the venue and the love for Dick’s, as evidenced by the weekend, still remains. Anticipation also ran high due to the level the group had been operating on preceding the Colorado stop as well as the fact that these shows also marked the close of the summer tour and anyone’s last chance to catch the magic before an unsure fall with COVID and indoor venues.

Night one saw a solid introduction to the trifecta. Getting the place rocking, the band started the weekend with a great take on “46 days”. At just over 8 minutes, the band didn’t waste a moment showing that they were warmed up and ready to go. Following the first set of lyrics, Trey jumped right into dark land and started the slow burn as the rest of the band fanned on. With a nice cresc-ending and tight delivery, the weekend was underway. As if to state they were feeling it too, the next selection said it all: “Party Time”. With a great shuffle and McConnell working his away around the keys, from piano to organ, there was a nary an occupied seat in the house as everyone was up, moving to the groove, and shouting out the lyrical call to celebrate. Eight minutes again and a serious cardio workout later, it was easy to see just two songs into the evening that everyone was on the same page, and it was going to be a great night. The band slowed things a bit with the groove machine “Steam” and laid out some thick sweetness, McConnell grinding at the organ, Anastasio echoing over the landscape, Gordon smoothly filling the low end, and Fishman chugging along. “Timber” was up next and marked the first bust out of the night, not only marking its inaugural performance of the tour, but also the first since December of 2019. Once again, the band jumped right in on the jam, swirling the summer night in auditory delight as everyone enjoyed the power of the steadfast mule and its riders.

The audience was treated next to the delightful Gordon tune “Yarmouth Road”. Touting great Gordo lyrics and a bouncy reggae vibe, this version was tight and gave Mike the chance to get down on the effects pedal as well as show his prowess on the vocal high end. With only a few seconds of rest, Fishman started up the familiar composition “Foam”. For the band, this tune has been intermittently wrought with error in the later years as it is no easy piece to play, but many a smile were made across the venue and stage alike as the syncopated start was completed without falter and gave way to the light piano stylings of McConnell. At the close of McConnell’s spotlight and the appropriate gratitude of the audience, Trey took over and impressed the audience further, rolling out those gentle notes that make this tune a favorite for so many. Returning to the closing difficulty of the number, no one missed a beat and slot number six was complete and received a rousing applause from the audience at the accomplishment. The next surprise of the evening came in back-to-back form, with the band dropping both “Vultures” and “Pebbles and Marbles” into the set. Again, these two tunes had been shelved since July and December of 2019, respectively. “Vultures” swooped in with their hard-edged beaks and wide wings, taking the audience through lofty lifts and dramatic dives and kept the audience bobbing and weaving with the one-two punch of the structure.

After the carrion landed, Trey addressed the crowd and wished everyone “Happy Anniversary” to mark the decade of enjoyment shared on the outskirts of the Mile High City. Getting right back to business, Trey counted off “Pebbles and Marbles” and everyone fell right back into place. This song is one of those great examples of the band’s ability to oscillate between soft lightness and breakneck shredding. Although this version was no record breaker, it certainly checked all the boxes and showed that the band still loves it as much as the audience and will continue to keep it in the live repertoire. To close out the set, “Carini” gave listeners the first expanded taste of improvisation of the night. Clocking in at 22 minutes from start to finish, the band got the lyrics out of the way and then got down to business. The jam portion of the tune swung the spectrum of emotion, hitting on raw energy, joyful major chord play, and disturbing echoey electronica, each member throwing everything they had into the mix and closing the first set of the weekend with a bang.

“Rise / Come Together” started set two out on a positive note, lyrically reminding everyone in the house that we are more the same than different and accomplish much when unified. Coming in at a little under five minutes, this PSA got the message across and without pause dove into “A Song I Heard the Ocean Sing”. The band spared no time taking the venue into the murky oceanic depths of the sound of this song, slowly taking their time, intentional with every move, swimming without hurry or destination, floating with capacity all who would give themselves over to the current. At its end, and seemingly out of nowhere, the familiar power chords of “Chalkdust Torture” brought everyone out of the liquid ether and back into the classroom. For the first seven minutes it was class as usual before departing for recess. For the next thirteen minutes the band played around with an upbeat central theme, lively and electric, that had everyone dancing and having a great time. Bringing balance to the frenzy and in notable juxtaposition, the tail end deteriorated and morphed into the tranquility and softness of “Beneath a Sea of Stars”. With the initial lyric “we’re all here together and the weather’s fine / dancing in the dream and we’re free of time” the audience gave out a brief shout, consciously recognizing their place in the moment: standing, dancing at the feet of their favorite band at the beginning of a three-day weekend of music and just getting started. At the close of the lyrics, the resulting jam stretched out seven minutes, holding onto a semblance of structure   before deteriorating into ambiance, much like it might be drifting through space as the earth travels further and further away, until out of sight and everything that fills the field of vision is new, strange, and without familiar context. “Light” shone next and was illuminated with great spontaneity, including what seemed to be some hinting at both the “Manteca” and “NICU” themes.

Transitioning without break or breakdown, the band shifted into “Plasma”. All things considered, this TAB original is a rarity in Phish setlists and the crowd audibly embraced it. The band also decided to toy with it, mashing it up from the get-go. At the final line of the opening stanza, Trey started calling out “Party Time” in cadence with the established tune. Giggling at each other, it didn’t take long for more hijinks to come rolling out as Anastasio lyrically alternated between “party time” and the plasmatic “you always end up where you start”, eventually shifting the music back to the “Chalkdust Torture” theme. As the welcomed comedy continued for several measures, Gordon jumped in and added “runaway, runaway, runaway, runaway” from “A Song I Heard the Ocean Sing” before everyone turned on a dime and started into “Runaway Jim”. The dog on the lam ran hard and with great enthusiasm for over seven minutes to the delight of its owners and all the onlookers. With the end of the set nearing, the familiar chords of “Slave to the Traffic Light” signaled to everyone night one was coming to a close. Timing out at over 12 minutes, this version carried a great midsection delivery that was unhurried, delighting with its warm pattern and building the crowd up with tension before breaking it free into ecstasy.

For the finale of the evening, the band gifted the faithful with a triple encore. Starting off with the Phish classic “Cavern”, the band and audience showed each other that they both still had something left in the tank, as the band rocked it and those listening swung it. Taking a breather and thanking the following in a way that the band often does, “Waste” said everything the phab four conveys often from their musical time approaching four decades. Emotion aside and wanting to send everyone into the night with an energized step and broad smile, the band gave out their last bust out of the night in Led Zeppelin’s “Good Times, Bad Times”. Not played since Mexico in 2020, Trey and the gang ripped loose on the all too familiar cover and the crowd was happy to oblige with full attention and as much energy as they and the band had started the night off with.

In the end, night one was a great start to what would eventually be another completion of a fantastic and memorable weekend for 27,000 people. The sound was just right and the Kuroda magic and lighting rig were a spectacle in and of themselves. For those lucky enough to have tickets for all three nights, the joy just kept on coming with more bust outs, improvisation, and setlists that keep the faithful coming back for more and turn the first-time listeners into devoted heads. It is apparent that the band is in love with all that they have and if night one was any indicator, they show no signs of stopping soon. Although a pandemic shut down all that we love for over a year, the silver lining is that we all had a chance to pause and appreciate the gifts we have in each other, music, and the thing we call life. May that appreciation continue and here is to the positivity fueling a successful and incredible fall tour.

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Saturday night, Phil Lesh and Friends closed out their three-night Colorado run with a final stop at the picturesque Planet Bluegrass in Lyons, Colorado. Following two magical nights in Dillon and Vail, the group concluded the transcendental trifecta to a sold-out crowd under a near full moon, clear skies, and perfect temperatures. Phil’s friends this time around consisted of his progeny Grahame Lesh, guitar guru Stu Allen, skin wizard John Molo, and the explosive, talented, and tasteful Holly Bowling. At 81 years young, Lesh consistently lead the pack with his low-end domination, showing that he is still a force to be reckoned with and no one is waiting around for him to catch up. Combined, this five-headed beast produced nearly three hours of music over two great sets and reminded many fans that the Grateful Dead magic is alive, well, and worth every mile driven to catch it.

Set one began with a strong, upbeat “Mississippi Half Step” and it was apparent from the get-go that the band needed no warmup. Phil’s vocals sounded great and, from Bowling’s tasty B-3 work to Grahame’s slide improv, the sound was dialed in from the start. Next, the gritty “West L.A. Fadeaway” came without delay, showcasing the vocal and guitar dynamics of Mr. Stu Allen. The midsection saw some great interplay between Stu’s eerie slide work and Bowling’s organ fills as the tune expanded and hinted at the weird. Taking the tempo up a notch, “Till the Morning Comes” took off with its authentic 60’s vibe. It was great to see so many heads singing along to this B-side track, showing that the decades-long love runs deep and true.

Slowing things a bit, an emotional and powerful “So Many Roads” gave everyone a moment to reflect. For those who saw Garcia perform this tune, it was great to hear Stu sing this with comparable verve. Bowling’s spinning of the Leslie in the big finish also delivered a visceral wave of bittersweet emotion. A Lesh-led “Crazy Fingers” followed, sang by both father and son, and kept with the spirit of the preceding number. Phil’s use of the higher register here lifted the tune and showed his continued ability, desire, and talent to diversify. Bowling utilized a classic piano sound throughout and her solo was audibly appreciated by the crowd. Molo’s drum work on a tune with such an odd timing was impeccable and revealed that this guy just keeps getting better with age, as both an instigator as well as listener.

As the tune wound down into transition, the recognizable intro rift of “Deal” lifted the mood and got everyone back up to getting down. Again, Bowling demonstrated her work ethic with that classic ragtime piano sound and attacked her extended solo to the joy of everyone within earshot. This version rollicked with the best of them and elicited huge smiles between the band members, growing ever wider with the big fanfare as Grahame and Stu fanned their axes and took great satisfaction in the aural jubilation created from their literal fingertips. In the end, set one totaled out at 70 minutes and left many wondering, especially those who had been present for the two nights prior, what goodies Uncle Phil and Company had in store to close out the Colorado mini tour.

As the near full moon set the visual slowly creeping over the riverside cottonwoods, the band returned for the second set. Toying with tuning and feedback, the group eventually gave way to silence, as Allen, Lesh, and Lesh stepped to their respective microphones and looked out over the darkened crowd. The trio then proceeded to sing acapella and in its normal timing the “Dark Star” lyrics from verse one: “Shall we go, you and I while we can / Through the transitive nightfall of diamonds”. This first time change from the standard canon delivery ignited the audience into a gleeful frenzy of catcalls, laughter, and applause. The band followed suit and expectation with exploratory instrumentation and rolled out ten solid minutes of psychedelic interplay before returning to the lyrical portion of the unfinished verse. Once again, the stringed sons sang, each taking one of the opening three lines of the verse, but when the aforementioned acapella lyrics were reached in the reading, the band fell silent, playing only the music and smiling on as again, the audience took great delight in yet another alteration of the beloved tune.

After a few measures of the dreamy feel surrounding the lyrical component, Molo accelerated the tempo, and everyone jumped right on the back of his train. Operating as a unified driving force, the group moved the crowd for multiple minutes through a solid throw down of dancing before slowing the pace once again, dissolving into discord and eventually settling into an upbeat “Eyes of the World”. With Allen at the lyrical helm, the band took off with the crowd singing along. At the close of the initial stanza, Bowling was up first for solos and delivered an otherworldly fast but extended solo that made her sound as though she had been graced with 12, maybe even 14, digits. The solo was significant enough that both Phil and Allen turned stage right at its conclusion, grinning from ear to ear, as the crowd erupted with props thrown the keying wonder’s way. The band stretched the “Eyes” out for 12 minutes and packed it full of significant shredding and exchanges before returning for the second half of “Dark Star”.

Where the verse one section certainly played more on the head of the tune, the coda dove more through space before reaching the second stanza. Once again, Lesh, Allen, and Lesh rotated lines, before unifying on the lyric “Shall we go while we can…” and finishing the rest of the stanza together. Between both verses of “Dark Star” and the “Eyes” filler, the set was already at 41 minutes and everyone in the house was having a ball.

At the celestial conclusion, without pause, the band fired up “St. Stephen” and the whole of the unlit field exploded in excitement, as it seemed that we had all been transported back through the setlist to the late 1960s. “Mount St. Molo” thundered out the tune as Phil belted out both the lyrics and deep end melody while everyone chugged along. Lyrics concluded, the band went straight for the jam jugular, the whole of the place rhythmically writhing with the tribal toms and heavy stringed strums. This lasted for a few measures before the group effortlessly moved into the Allman Brothers’ staple “Mountain Jam”, sending smiles and goosebumps out through the crowd as strangers and friends took a moment to look at each other, recognizing the moment, before moving back into akimbo. As if one Allman's reference wasn’t enough, the band also teased the ending of “Blue Sky” for good measure.

As the band departed from “Stephen”, Phil started up “Cryptical Envelopment” and the time warp continued. Bowling contributed nicely with that era-specific keyboard effect that reminiscent of the days of Pigpen and Live Dead. The short and sweet “Cryptical” transitioned without stop into “New Speedway Boogie” and at nearly an hour in, the band hadn’t taken a breath and no one was complaining. Graham took the first round of vocal duties and Stu followed suit for the second. Slide was the word for this one as Graham and Allen got to exchanging in call and response fashion, bending notes, keeping it straight, and then getting into Strangeland. Bowling threw in her contribution, twisting knobs and adding effects to her portion, ramping up her counterparts. At the close of the selection, the band finally took a two minute break to get a drink, catch a breath, and take stock of the moment.

Refreshed, Stu started up the familiar lick of “Sugaree” and the crowd began to sway once again. The ebb and flow of the tune afforded some moments of rest, where the music was laid out low and slow, and other moments of resurrection, where listeners couldn’t help but get frenetic with the build-up and release in repeated crescendos by the band. Following a short pause, “Uncle John’s Band” was the final set choice and provided a great opportunity for the audience to sing along some of the most favored, reflective, and well-known lyrics in the Grateful Dead catalog. Phil led the vocals on the tune, but like the rest of the night, it certainly was a team effort throughout.

As is customary, Phil returned to the stage to deliver his donor rap, but before motivating and reminding everyone to become an organ donor, he took a moment to deliver a personal message to Colorado:

“Before this week, I never knew how many wonderful little venues there were in the mountains of Colorado. For the last three days, we’ve been playing at these beautiful places. They sound so good, the setting is phenomenally beautiful, and the crowds are so welcoming and wonderful, so thank you for all that, Colorado.”

Phil continued on with his donor speech and reminded everyone that if it hadn’t been for a young boy informing his mother 23 years ago that he wanted to be an organ donor, he wouldn’t be alive today. That choice led to the saving of eight lives including his. Before returning to the music, Phil had one more thing to add,” Get the vaccination. It is for all of us.”

Whether jaded or not, many in attendance thought after the energy expended and length of the second set with its many transitions, we were destined to get a short and sweet tune to send us out into the night with one final memory. The band had other plans.

Gathering themselves and their rightful positions, Molo counted off,” One, two, three, four, five, six seven” and the band took off into the lead line of “King Solomon’s Marbles”, full bore and without any indication or sign of exhaustion. Not wanting to be left behind, the crowd threw in and the dance party was on once again. Six minutes later, the complicated groove complete, Stu initiated “Touch of Grey” for the final tune of the night and closed out the show and three nights of bliss with the Deadhead anthem that now, following the initiation of the pandemic and the not-too-distant political turmoil, rang truer than in times past with the fact that “we will get by, we will survive”. The resounding mantra was sang with truth and without hesitation from both sides of the stage as the final night’s notes permeated one more Saturday night.

At night’s end, it was apparent that this group of players truly love the music they are a part of and play it as though it was a part of them. Operating both as individual talent and cohesive conglomerate, the members delivered all they had and then some and made many glad they had caught all three nights and others wish they had.

Although there is no slouch in the group, in my opinion, Holly Bowling is the man, the whoa-man that is and gets my MVP nomination. Her playing seems truly rooted in her premier love of this music and what she throws in reflects that heart. She is completely unassuming but is a monster when let off the chain. Most times, her eyes are closed and she is listening with everything she’s got and letting the melody and time flow through her. One can only imagine the joy and honor she must feel being able to not only share the stage with such great players, but to play with one of the original authors of some of the most dynamic and intelligent music ever created.

Throughout the night, Stu Allen’s tone, phrasing, and execution emulated Jerry Garcia’s gift in a genuine way that captured the originator’s soulful playing without cheapening the effect. The man exudes talent and comes off as more thinker than rock star, although his chops and execution voluminously speak otherwise.

Grahame Lesh’s performance was a display in confidence and direction. His gifts are his own and no one can say that he has rested on the laurels of his pedigree. His success is self-made and thank the heavens that his path has aligned with music, this music, so that we and at least another generation will benefit from the roots and growth that has sprung forth from his experience for years to come.

John Molo is probably one of Phil’s longest standing friends and for good reason. Not only can the man, myth, legend keep time like Kronos himself, but his offstage presence and personality demonstrate one who is truly in love with the art of living: playful, thoughtful, intentional. His tank never seems to run dry and his cup continuously runneth over, inciting others to give the best of themselves, their all, both onstage and off. He truly is a demonstration in that we are only limited as much as believe we are or can be.

Finally, Phil Lesh still has what it takes in spades. In fact, his playing, both in meter and originality, continues to inspire and surprise fans and musicians alike. Watching “Mr. Kilowatt” do what he does best on stage is personally some of the best and most memorable experiences of my own life. His tone is without equal, and his style is just as unconventional. His comfort is not just in the pocket, but in the whole pair of musical pants. His demeanor and personality demonstrate his value of where he is and much of that is derived from getting a second lease on life. His final words on Saturday night summed it best: “I am the luckiest man in the room” and although this might be true, I believe that after what was witnessed and experienced this weekend, there are a few thousand people who might beg to differ.

In closing, it must be mentioned how special Planet Bluegrass is. Many already know how beautiful the locale is with its red rock canyon walls and the St. Vrain River traveling through it, but that is just the venue. Planet Bluegrass is more than just a place, it is its people and a state of mind. Every encounter with the Planet Bluegrass family is initiated with a smile and genuine desire to help whoever get wherever they need to go. There are no hulking security guards or policing presence. Instead, there are people, yes people, working effortlessly to ensure a great time is had by all and that the environment is accommodating for every man, woman, and the multitude of children who attend their events. All this stated, thank you Planet Bluegrass for staying true to the vibration of music, being focused on everyone’s connection to it, and providing a place where everyone can come together to enjoy solid hours of great living. I can think of no better place to take in an evening of good ol’ Grateful Dead music with familiar faces and friends not yet met.

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This past weekend, The Dave Matthews Band once again returned to the faithful in Colorado and performed back-to-back sold out shows at Fiddler’s Green Amphitheatre in Englewood. With a capacity of 18,000, each night was filled to the brim with both the casual listener and die-hard fan looking to catch a little more of the summertime magic those outdoor venues in the Rockies hold before the chilly nights set in and audiences are relegated to the indoors.

Friday and Saturday’s shows both clocked in at two and a half hours and consisted of twenty-two songs each, with no repeats, and the expected dynamic energy that this versatile band is known for. As this was the group’s first return to their “home away from home” since 2019, the band certainly seemed to have brought their A game from start to finish and the audience was all too happy to engage in the revelry and outpouring of emotion.

Friday night’s show opened with an improv filled, extended “Seek Up” that almost hit the 20-minute mark and signaled the audience that the band was glad to be back. Tim Reynolds was on fire from the start, while Rashawn Ross and Jeff Coffin showed that no matter the altitude, they got the lungs to go mile high. Following the high-octane opener, “Satellite” launched and showered the crowd with wistful lyrics and lilting pleasantries that had the crowd swaying and singing along.

At this point, Dave took the time to thank the crowd and acknowledge how thrilled the band was about being out doing what they love. The rest of the evening included tracks from almost all of the studio catalog, with a third deriving from Under the Table and Dreaming and Crash. Many selections on the setlists timed out at 8 minutes or more, energizing the audience and reflecting that for both sides of the stage, the jam is just as important as the lyrical angle. Dave and Company kept it to originals throughout, which seemed appropriate for their first Centennial visit in over two years.

The sextet operates like a well-oiled, morphing machine, twisting, turning, and ever-changing shape and in it, there truly is no weak link. The history that the majority share runs deep, and one can hear the miles of measures played out nightly. Relative newcomer (2018) Buddy Strong is certainly no slouch and works his three-sided keyed pit with proficiency and tastefulness that one would think he had been with the group since the beginning. His demeanor and wide grin show just how happy he is to be gigging with his band mates.

Carter Beauford, like a kid in a candy store with a smile stretched face, continues to baffle the eyes and ears with his abilities and it is obvious that after decades of play, he is still up for more. Stefan Lessard executes the low-end effortlessly, stretching from the delicate to the raucous, and making it look so easy.

Tim Reynolds is one cool cat, unassuming and casual, and throughout the weekend, he let his fingers doing the talking and boy did they have much to say. The horn section of Ross and Coffin is a dynamic duo who operate both as a powerful conglomerate as well as standalone players. Neither are contained to just the charts and display complete comfort is stretching out and getting weird and fiery.

Finally, Dave Matthews. This gentleman, like so many in his circle, demonstrates an obvious inner joy in what he is doing that the onlooker can feel his deep appreciation of his place as well as the giddy get down that keeps him creating and driving for more. His ability to sing and maintain the odd timings that are a cornerstone of his music continue to surprise the critical ear while fueling the spirit of those who approach his craft from a more visceral approach.

In the end, the only regret for this attendee was that I could only catch night one. As a studio dabbler for years and this being my first live experience with the band, I was impressed with the group’s ability to maintain continuity in the live setting, especially throughout all the changes and angular dynamics that their catalog encompasses. It was also refreshing to see this group give their all and visibly enjoying the shared experience.

Leaving the venue, it was great to hear that my take on the expertise and emotion of the performance was not a solitary one, especially when the report was coming from fans who had been seeing the band for decades. In the end, it is clear that the wheels are not coming off this group anytime soon and if you have the chance to catch any of the handful of dates left on the tour, do it. Your smile will be widened, your heart filled, and you just might contemplate how you too will get to the next DMB show.

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For Deadheads across the land, this has been a wonderful week to be in Colorado. Tuesday night, Dead and Company kicked off the first of four Denver Area shows to take place in the Centennial State. Originally scheduled as just two performances at Fiddler’s Green in Englewood, the band announced mid-September that they were adding two more shows at the famed Red Rocks Amphitheatre. This unveiling brought about a whole other level of excitement for the Deadhead community, as this would be the band’s debut performance at the intimate setting and, as expected, tickets sold out within minutes of going on sale.

Arriving around 3 o’clock, the sky was overcast with temperatures in the 50’s and a projected drop in the upper 30’s by the end of the night. Unsurprisingly, the bleak atmosphere did not diminish the tried and true from participating in the Shakedown scene going on in several parking lots and for those who were more business than pleasure, lines were already quite established and snaked their way down the concrete stairs at multiple entrances. With doors finally open, one could certainly feel the electricity of anticipation from the soon-to-be participants, taking the cooperative trip down the golden road. Tie dye and smiles could be seen filling every seat and before anyone took the stage, the concert of conversation was well underway as friend and stranger alike shared their stories of how they had ended up making it to the here and now.

The moment finally arrived and the lights dropped to the deafening roar of the Grateful as the psychedelic troubadours made their way to their respective positions. Taking only a moment to get settled in with their instrumentation, Bob Weir stepped to the microphone. He informed the crowd that there was a situation at hand and he was enlisting the help of John “JohnBo” Mayer to help explain it. Mayer almost immediately said, “It’s not COVID”, to which the crowd cheered, but then Weir quickly responded, “But it ain’t good”. Weir then informed the crowd that Billy (Kreutzmann) would not be joining the band due to some medical concerns and that the good news was that the Billy was okay and would be fine. Weir, having a proclivity for humor, then stated that the bad news was that Jay Lane would be sitting in for the night, resulting in laughter among both the audience and the band, with the exception of Lane of course. With that, Weir concluded that “the show must go on”, amusing the audience once again and eliciting another round of applause.

In light of the unfortunate circumstances, the band appropriately chose back-to-back inspirationals, getting the show underway with the Deadhead anthem “Not Fade Away” transitioning without pause into “New Speedway Boogie”. Although Kreutzmann would be missed, this strong pairing immediately got the crowd to dancing and singing along. The opening “Not Fade Away” got the place rocking with Chimenti’s B-3 Leslie work while Mayer and Weir took turns at commanding the rhythm and leads. Weir also accentuated the tune with stuttered vocal exaggeration keeping the smiles growing throughout the house. Lane also demonstrated early on his ability to fill the big shoes of the missing Kreutzmann and Hart seemed more than satisfied with his counterpart for the evening.  For “New Speedway”, Chimenti shifted from organ to piano and tickled his way through the number while Mayer took some extensive soloing. The close of the tune also contained a long outro that had the whole place moving as the band boogied along. By the end of the “NFA > New Speedway” opener, Tuesday already felt more like a Friday and the party was underway.

Taking it up a notch, the group kept everyone dancing with a lively, Mayer-led “Big Railroad Blues”. Chimenti returning to rocking the Hammond and Leslie, transporting the sound and feel back to the Mydland era. The band then slowed things down with a great rendition of “Tennessee Jed”, affording the crowd the opportunity to sing along with Weir. The tune’s big finish had Mayer contorted as he fanned his guitar in pure Jerry form as the rest of the band aided in taking the crescendo over the top, leaving huge grins in the wake of bliss. Mayer and Weir alternated stanzas through “Friend of Devil” and had everyone in the stands throwing in vocally. The instrumental interlude shone bright with Weir’s metallic effect and perfectly counterbalanced the warm tones of Mayer’s emotional runs. Chimenti took an extended ragtime solo that received audible recognition. “They Love Each Other” was a pleasant surprise and the band certainly gave it the treatment. The tune was filled with great interplay, improvisation, and clocked in at just under twelve minutes. “Dear Prudence” was certainly a standout in the set, being the second of two versions performed on the tour. With Mayer’s watery textures, Weir’s vocal delays and Burbidge melodically filling the spaces between, the tune had the audience floating down an echoey, meandering auditory river of joy.

The band closed the set with a rockin’ “Don’t Ease Me In”, once again having Weir and Mayer taking turns at lyrical duties. The upbeat piece aided in warming the audience before the break as the temperatures continued to drop. Speaking to this fact, at the song’s end, Weir iterated, “All right, we will be back in just a few minutes. You all hang loose and stay warm, somehow”.

Following a short intermission, set two got moving with a 15 minute “Scarlet Begonias”. Although slow in tempo, the playing was certain and spot on, getting everyone to their feet. The improv section showed a strong delivery on all fronts, encompassing a driving start and eventually dissolving into spacey attributes, and contained a “Love Supreme” tease by Chimenti. Rising from the fallen petals of the disintegrated opener, “Estimated Prophet” came calling. The low end of Burbidge shook the walls and the toms of the timekeepers rumbled the hallowed ground as Mayer took lead after lead over the top all the while accented by Weir’s angular dynamics. Although Bobby did not venture out to the edge of the stage, he certainly demonstrated enough rockstar to erupt the audience at the end of the midsection crescendo. The tailings of the tune contained great minor interplay between Mayer and Chimenti in call and response fashion before the weird gave way to the seamless “Eyes of the World” transition. Starting out its sweet, subdued sense, this nearly 18-minute version morphed from the quiet to the mountainous and walked the audience through all soundscapes in between. The ending let Oteil shine on the upper registry, rolling out long lines of notes as Chimenti supported him structurally. The pre-space closer made for more Oteil time with “Fire on the Mountain”, Burbidge taking the vocal role and dolling out the indicative bass melody that defines the tune.

The calypso inferno stopped on a dime and without pause the Rhythm Devils took over and upped the ante and the beat into a tribal get down that kept many dancing. It was great to see Lane have the opportunity to demonstrate that his abilities are not confined to the kit. The duo exchanged for a few minutes before being joined by a wide smiled Burbidge, who by his very appearance was just as excited to bang it out with Lane and Hart as he does playing stringed. Eventually Hart found himself alone and turned to the beam, where he actively set out to shake the very core of every individual in the county. A short “Space” was filled with more harmony than discord and kept things soft. At the return of the timekeepers, the group resumed with an upbeat jam that contained some remnant “Fire on the Mountain” embers and, as the meter increased, the jam finally gave way to “Turn on Your Lovelight”, sending the crowd into a dancing frenzy with hands in the air, arms akimbo, and hair everywhere. Father Bob certainly took the congregation to church on this version!

The opening notes of “Morning Dew” were met strong recognition. This version contained a haunting lyrical read from Weir and apexed with a great build, with Mayer going nuts and stomping his foot as onlookers got off on the moment. “Casey Jones” closed the set with a bang, even when Hart left the stage halfway through the tune for some unknown reason. He would later turn to social media to reassure everyone he was fine but providing no further explanation for his departure. With temperatures nearing freezing, the band warmed the audience one last time with an emotion-filled “Althea” that came in at ten minutes and left those who had remained with a beaming face and a full heart.

In the end, fans got three hours of great music and no one left the venue unsatisfied, even in light of the absence of Bill Kreutzmann. The band was upbeat, unhurried, and delivered on the expectations of many that this inaugural performance at Red Rocks would be magic. It came as no surprise that Jay Lane could and did handle his pinch hitter duties without issue and his incorporation further showed the caliber of these players to adapt to the moment and make gold out of lead. From a technical standpoint, the lights and sound were dialed in from the beginning and further demonstrated that the quality of the Dead is not solely relegated to the playing, but to the whole of the experience. The remainder of the nights under the Rocky Mountain horizon proved to be equally exceptional and showed once again that in the musical world, Colorado holds a special place and brings the greatness out in all things played.

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On November 20th, jamgrass instigators Yonder Mountain String Band made their way to the north country in Colorado for the final night of their extensive 5 week, twenty-three show, cross country fall tour. As expected, the quintet gave it their all to the regional Kinfolk, delivering a fantastic two-set throw down to a sold-out crowd at Washington’s in Fort Collins. As if attending the tour closer wasn’t enough to drive anticipation, this would be the first time the band had donned the stage of Washington’s and their first show in Fort Collins proper since 2007.

Getting the evening started at little past 7 pm, Dave Johnston stepped to the microphone to welcome everyone, “I understand this is called Fort Fun, this town, is that right? Well, get ready to have some fun!” With that, the band jumped right in with “Rambler’s Anthem.” With its “thirty days on the road and maybe I will be home soon” lyric, the selection intention was well received by both the crowd and band. Following the opener, Ben Kaufmann checked in with the crowd and expressed the happiness of the band to finally be able to play Washington’s. He also acknowledged the level of Yonder Mountain Family in the room and stated that he couldn’t “think of a better place to end the tour,” generating smiles and applause across the venue.

The good vibes continued with “Boatman’s Dance” and kept the crowd dancing to the Yonder hoedown. Nick Piccininni took lead vocals for this one and everyone got a chance in the instrumental spotlight, each artist soloing in rounds throughout the tune. Without pause, the group segued into “You Left Me in a Hole” with Adam Aijala stepping up on mic duties while the songbird Allie Kral harmonized through the chorus. The midsection gave way to beautiful interplay between all the band members.

Following an introduction of “the newest member of the band” by Ben Kaufmann, “Beside Myself” brought Nick back to the microphone to sing his fiery pandemic-penned tune about being off the road, unsure of the future of live music, all the while having to resort to physical labor to keep the lights on at home.

Slowing things down a bit in all the right ways, Kaufmann asked the crowd to throw out some love for Allie Kral on the fiddle and with that the band started up a soulful rendition of Dusty Springfield’s “Son of a Preacher Man.” Describing Kral’s contribution to this group as dynamic is an understatement of the Nth degree, as not only can she deliver soft and sweetly, but can also swing the spectrum far enough to the nitty gritty dirty deed, both vocally and musically, that Janis herself would be proud.

Aijala’s “On Your Dime” reinfused the hall with upbeat bluegrass, winding the audience up again, and continuing the Saturday night revelry of dance and song. Being a big fan of banter and comedy, Ben Kaufmann introduced the next song as “the third most popular Yonder song in the Czech Republic,” before starting a great rendition of the ballad “Annalee”. Continuing the comedy and keeping the crowd laughing at the close of “Annalee,” Aijala chimed in with “Fourth most popular song in Guam.”

Kaufmann took the opportunity to inform the crowd that band had recently put together material for a new album and that the next new piece would be presented by the “lovely, talented, and amazing Dave Johnston on the 5-string banjo.” “Up This Hill” is exactly what fans would expect from Johnston’s tongue-in-cheek lyrical contribution, reciting line after line of the comical read in his distinctive low voice all the while wheeling out tasteful, traditional banjo rolls.

To close out the first frame, the band selected The Beatles’ “Only a Northern Song.” Timing out at thirteen minutes, this number would be the longest tune of the set and demonstrated the group’s ability to not only play in the traditional styles, but also reflected their love for stretching out the jam.

To open the second set, the band chose the quick tempo of “Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down” with Picininni leading the way and energizing the room. Johnston was up next and announced, “this next song is about birds,” kicking off the original “Fingerprint.” The midsection saw both Aijala and Picininni employing distortion, fanning, and going for the high note, while Kral sawed her way over the top and Kaufmann kept the context of the piece in frame. At “Fingerprint’s” final note, an immediate bass solo by Kaufman ensued, and the next 100 seconds of true deep tone bliss gave the audience a moment to witness and respect the prowess of this musician and his instrument. Playing with speed and finesse while demonstrating modalities of jazz and funk, it was truly a treat to see Kaufmann give his all in distinction. The solo transitioned into an 8-minute version of “Nowhere Next” as Kaufmann laid down the driving line, Picininni chopped out the tempo, and Kral came in with her ethereal bow, setting the whole of the room on edge as Johnston and Aijala added dynamic filling. Leaving the murk and ascending towards the light, Kaufman took the band and the audience through the uplifting tune “Things Your Selling” that highlighted great violin from the lovely Kral and returned warmth and a grin to everyone in the room.

A Johnston led “Rock and Roll” was a great surprise in the set and got everyone singing along. The band delivered more than adequately on The Velvet Underground classic and ended with a big finish as Johnston called out over and over “C’mon, dance Fort Collins!” At the song’s close, Dave gave a little mental health advice to everyone by stating, “It is profoundly important to indulge your inner Lou Reed.”

Before starting up “All Aboard”, Kaufmann asked the crowd to give it up for “the Queen of the Scene, Allie Kral”, resulting in great laughter from her highness as well as a threat to use the feminine moniker as an introduction for Kaufmann on the next tour, spawning laughing and smiles throughout the venue. At its end, “All Aboard” would prove to be the longest tune of night, clocking in at seventeen minutes. This piece encapsulated so many different feels throughout its life, beginning full throttle, then shifting five minutes into an eerie vibe, full of echo, angle, and chaos, all the while the lights of the LD swirled about and further induced the trance. Eleven minutes in, Johnston stepped to the mic and began singing Tom Petty’s “Breakdown” over the constructed weirdness and the crowd just loss their marbles. The tune continued to dissolve, disperse, and reform for several measures, until finally returning to the head, bring Kral back to the microphone and belting out the last stanza in a way that would make Ann Wilson of Heart seem soft spoken.

Giving everyone the opportunity to catch their breath, Nick Picininni took a moment to spotlight Dave Johnston and explain to everyone that “you learn a lot about people being on the road for five weeks and one of the best things I have learned about being on the road with this band is that Dave Johnston will always tell you “It’s nice to see you today.” Dave then invoked the salutation with everyone of the band members, the crew, and closing with a final “Fort Collins, it’s nice to see you today!”

Next up was the pairing “Out of the Pan” and “Into the Fire”, two new songs already confirmed for the new album. The first of the duo is a great two-minute instrumental that leads into Picininni manning the vocals for the second part that conjures the unending questions of life while the rest of the band plays on.

Touted as the oldest Yonder Mountain song, fan favorite and regionally appropriate “40 Miles from Denver” was the next selection and received a warm round of applause at its end, as nostalgia filled the hearts and minds of old friends recognizing just how long the journey has been with these great players over the decades.

Increasing the pace once again and busting out another new song from the upcoming album, Aijala took the crowd on a quick jaunt in “I Just Can’t.” Short, sweet, and at a blistering sprint, this number reflected although the band had been on the road for 5 weeks, night after night, and had already delivered almost two hours of music already, they were giving it up as if it were the first night of the tour, showing no signs of exhaustion or love loss for their craft.Todd Snider’s “Sideshow Blues” kept the energy high and gave the crowd the opportunity to catch a great dueling banjo session between Johnston and Piccininni, as the two fed off of each other, both grinning like kids having the time of their lives. Keeping with the theme of “Nick can play anything,” Picininni followed up with a dueling fiddles moment with Kral, as the two cut through “Roanoke” like butter on a hot summer day.

Closing out the set, the band made and served a 26-minute sandwich with “Raleigh and Spencer” bookending a 16-minute version of the Talking Heads’ “Girlfriend is Better”. This final culinary delight had it all, the jam, the funk, the dirty, and ended the night with an exclamation point, restating that Yonder still delivers and does a body and soul GREAT!

For the encore, the group warmed the hearts of the faithful one last time with Sherman Kelly’s “Dancing in the Moonlight.” As this great piece of music got everyone swaying and singing along with Piccininni and the band, Red, the lighting director, sparkled the room infinitely, employing the disco ball for most of the tune, setting the venue occupants adrift in unison. Although many bands at the end of what was stated as “the longest tour they had had in a while” would have hung their hats up at the close of their final evening with a feel-good sing along, Yonder Mountain surprised the crowd with a little more for the Kinfolk with their original “Troubled Mind” filled with a cover of The Misfits’ “20 Eyes”, a longtime combo for the band, that once again reaches breakneck speeds and this version was no different, leaving the crowd with one final trip into dizzying heights and gleeful delight

At the night’s end, the band gave the good people two sets and twenty-eight songs of what they had left in the tank which, unsurprisingly, was significant. The band certainly did not phone it this evening, but instead played with a freshness and exuberance that could only be derived from playing to a room full of familiar faces, being back home, and with nothing between them and recuperation other than one last opportunity to do what they love. The joy the band created was only possibly surpassed by the emotion that filled the band itself, once again making good on their positive and creative contribution to this world. With the holidays upon us, this year seems to have been the one that has given us more pause and reflection to be grateful and thankful for what we have in each other and the live music experience and it is bands like Yonder Mountain that remind us that we give the gifts of each other not out of requirement, but out of the love of giving the best of ourselves and the inner, intangible presents we bestow with our presence alone.

This past weekend, Grammy award winning guitarist Eric Krasno set out on a coast-to-coast, two-week tour to promote his latest creation Always. Released on February 4th, this second solo endeavor is packed full of the quality compositions and visceral voyages that Krasno is recognized for in the studio as well as the live setting. Utilizing the same talent summoned for the studio production, Krasno has hit the road with The Assembly, a band he introduced to the world for the first-time last summer, comprised of Always co-producer Otis McDonald on the bass, Wil Blades on organ and keyboards, James VIII on guitar, and Curtis Kelly on drums. As nothing beats the Rocky Mountain high, Washington’s in Fort Collins, Colorado was the setting for the tour opener and as if catching Krasno with a pocketful of new pieces wasn’t enough, the inaugural evening promised more talent in the co-billing of east coast R&B performer Son Little.

Those who showed for the evening’s festivities were given a three hour, three set progressive slow burn that delivered on a host of originals, a few covers, and a continual shifting of genres that kept the audience engaged and entertained from start to finish.

Getting things started, James VIII opened the show solo, a man and his electric guitar, for a handful of his well-crafted originals that echoed with the sounds of Detroit, the blues, and good ol’ rock and roll. Although his boyish good looks might have caused some to doubt his talent, by the end of his four-song set, it was apparent that an old soul embodied his being as he channeled the Delta dynamic way past his corporeal age.

Son Little took the stage alone to open set two and treated the audience to a mini-acoustic set, including originals “Letter Bound” and “Suffer,” while also including a cover of Bob Dylan’s “You’re A Big Girl Now”. At the end of the trifecta, those who had placed their bet on this work horse were rewarded further with the introduction of The Assembly, as they took their appropriate positions and lent their support to even more of Little’s repertoire. The rest of the 20-song set pulled equally from Little’s discography and gave first time listeners the opportunity to take in the breadth of this man’s creativity. Although Little stated that this night was the first attempt at utilizing The Assembly as his backing band, the group moved and grooved in and out of the tunes, both musically and vocally, as though they had been a regular gig for quite some time.

After a short intermission, the main event was finally up for the evening. Krasno stepped to the mic and thanked everyone for coming out and took a moment to mention how Son Little was one of his favorite singers of all time. He also added that not only was this the tour opener, but the first show and tour for these musicians in over a year, and that they were all truly excited to be playing for the good people of northern Colorado.

The set got going with the funk fest that is “Good Thing” off of the new record. The group wasted no time in jumping in with both feet and getting those around to participate in the get down. With the audience carrying wide smiles, Krasno ushered in another new track in the slow groove of “Silence.” Pulling from his 2016 release Blood from a Stone, fan favorite “Jezebel” strutted her stuff all over that stage. This one contained great organ work from Blades and some signature shredding from Krasno.

“On the Rise” took a softer approach and highlighted great harmonies from the band. With a meandering path, this soulful tune had the room swaying, looped in on the group spiritual ascension.

“Torture,” as the third consecutive Blood piece, reflected what a great album his first solo endeavor is. This bluesy choice with its tribal thunder shook the room and at its apex segued perfectly into the Hendrix tune “Power of Soul,” which just kept the note-bending shred fest barrage going.

The instrumental “Curse Lifter” was up next. Its Allman-esque vibe was just as sweet as the peach tree it is derived from. James VIII and Krasno played off of each other in perfect complimentary fashion while the rest held the framework together, the piece reaching dizzying heights for both listener and performer and resulting in audible “thanks for coming to Fort Collins” at its close.

Pulling again from the new album, the fresh funk of “Lost Myself” shifted the mood from ethereal spin to swagger stride and the dance party was back on.

The second cover of the set came in the form of “Man in Me,” a Bob Dylan cover from Mr. Zimmerman’s 1970 release New Morning, that also appears on Krasno’s Always. As expected, Krasno and Crew did the tune justice while also making it their own, giving its original honky tonk quality a Motown soul makeover. Blades took the audience to church with an over-the-top organ solo fit for any Sunday morning service.

“Leave Me Alone” would be the last selection off the new album for the night. The upbeat blues theme got the room moving to its gritty hook and had this listener unable to get enough of the new album.

“Please Ya” bathed the audience in emotion, starting off slow and wide, and peaking at its end with whole of the group participating in some fantastic vocal work, eliciting unrelenting cat calling from the floor as the tune drew to a close. With its final acapella notes trailing off, the musical director jumped the congregation into the final sermon of the set with “Unconditional Love.” Taking the love higher, the group gave it their all in this big finish and left the crowd dazed and infused with good vibes, demonstrated by visible laughter, smiles, and applause as the band left the stage.

For the encore, Krasno welcomed Son Little back to close out the evening with a one-two punch. First up was a cover of The Beatles’ “Don’t Let Me Down,” with Little taking the vocal lead and encouraging the room to sing along. The second selection was a cover of Robert Palmer’s “Sneakin’ Sally through the Alley” and although it was not stretched the way Phish do it, this version was certainly no slouch and had everyone moving from the opening notes to its close.

In the end, those who turned out for the first night of the tour were gifted the chance to catch up and coming talent in James the 8th, immerse themselves in the under-the-radar gift of big sound that is Son Little, and have first dibs at the new inspirations created by the fluid fingered mastery and production talent of Eric Krasno. It was also great to realize that only five of the ten tracks of the new album were played, leaving plenty more for tour stops to come and giving way to the promise of an evolving setlist for this tour rather than a canned event night after night.

The talent that is The Assembly must also be mentioned and certainly did not go unnoticed. Otis McDonald, aka Joe Bagale, plays deep in the pocket, whether imitating the slow pull of molasses or the engine of a charging train pulling it all off the rails, this man commands the low end.

Drummer Curtis Kelly is one of those talented gentlemen who cannot only stir the soup tastefully and without wear, but sing while doing it. His talent in the higher registry was exceptional and contributed to the overall feel of the music throughout the evening. His talent on the kit and mic were only rivaled by his noticeable over-the-top enthusiasm while doing it all.

Chairman of the Boards Wil Blades kept the whole room swirling for the evening, washing the crowd and tunes in waves of Hammond / Leslie liquid magic. He carried with him a stoic face and let his fingers and soul do the talking as those around him could not do anything but listen to him fill the room with eargastic ecstasy.

James VIII, aka James Dawson, certainly held his own from his opening set to the close of the evening. Demonstrating equal talent in rhythm and lead and lending a great contribution on vocals, it was clear to hear why the veteran Krasno would pull this young buck to join him on the road and it was great to see him being present in every moment, devoid of squander or afterthought.

On February 25th, jamgrass pillars Yonder Mountain String Band will release their 9th studio album, titled Get Yourself Outside. This latest creation is eleven tracks of talent that reveal that after nearly a quarter century, this group still has what it takes to deliver on songwriting, composition, and studio proficiency.

The overall sound is clean, well balanced, and inviting from the start. The pieces are diverse, original, and will easily pull new fans into the fold while reminding those who have been there from the beginning why they keep coming back to this group who makes good on both tradition and innovation.

Get Yourself Outside reflects that the group once again continues to age well even in the face of change and a pandemic, making use of adversity as a stepping stone to creativity and as a fuel that burns off the dregs of commonplace, leaving in its place an inspirational concoction that is revitalizing to both the ear and soul.

“Beside Myself” gets the album started with an upbeat tempo. This number penned by the newest member multi-instrumentalist Nick Piccininni pulls straight from the lockdown portion of the pandemic. It describes what many musicians and creatives experienced with the loss of being able to perform and congregate, including the author, who wrote it while working a part-time job doing construction.

“I Just Can’t” keeps things moving and illustrates some great social commentary from founding members Adam Aijala and Dave Johnston. Lyrically, the listener will find themselves smiling, laughing, and taking pause at the seriousness of the content all the while enjoying the make up of the tune.

“Small House”, written by Johnston but sung by Piccininni, has the deep feel of backwoods Appalachia and conjures images of hardship and a longing for escape. It embodies a brooding feeling at its root that is more 19th century than new millennium modern.

Juxtaposed to the satire of “I Just Can’t”, Adam Aijala’s “If Only” describes the limiting dynamic of language when trying to describe something as deep and wide as emotion. This great little ditty offers sweet talent from the whole of the group and leaves one smiling and comforted at its close.

“Up This Hill”, scribed and sung by Dave Johnston, has a traditional bluegrass feel to it. With great flat picking by Aijala and the baritone vocals of Johnston, this piece will certainly fit right in with the band’s live show when audiences call out to “Let Dave Sing!”

“No Leg Left” speaks to the eternal dilemmas of choice, indecision, and self doubt. The narrator is caught between the call of freedom and the security and reward of commitment. The lyrics are timeless, the melody moving, and Picininni's violin phrasing adds a sorrowful feel as the emotional melody provides solace and stability to this track. The solo centerpiece at the heart of the tune is yet another of many Aijala gems found throughout the album.

Although “Out of the Pan” and “Into the Fire” are separate tracks, the band has been performing the two back to back in front of audiences for more than a year and are a perfect compliment to one another in both title and musicality. The first is pure instrumental fun and the studio take has bassist Ben Kaufman turned up in the mix, distinct, bold, and fluid, as the rest of the group throws down the hoe down over his low end. The second takes the tempo up a notch and showcases great vocals and instrumentation by Aijala and Piccininni.

“Broken Records” has both great jazz and Motown undercurrents throughout and shows that the group continues to push themselves away from the boundaries of expectation. Penned by Kaufmann and born out of his own personal struggles during the pandemic, this piece is a self-proclaimed prayer for the author that difficulty is temporary and that the dawn is only a horizon away. “Broken Records” demonstrates the fact that this group of musicians is not limited to bluegrass or tradition, but became what they are because of their love of music as a whole, not a genre.

“Change of Heart” spotlights the vocal talent of Allie Kral’s voice, haunting and delicate, and carries a melody and lyrical timing that makes this tune memorable. Aijala once again shines in the flat picking department at the midsection, but certainly does not steal the spotlight from Kral’s fiddle playing and solo.

“Suburban Girl” offers Dave Johnston the opportunity to showcase his softer vocal capabilities. This number elicits images of summertime love in youth, passion-filled and indecisive, while the composition tugs at the visceral strings of the listener. The chorus also includes the use of the new album’s title, which seems fitting as the closer to the production.

After listening to these eleven tracks, I found myself hitting play again and again wanting to discover more in both lyric and meter, and each time I walked with what I was looking for. The album title encourages the listener to get outside themselves and personally, I did. I found myself moving out of self-focus and taking a trip through nostalgia, observation, and rapture from the multiple perspectives offered, rather than the perspective of my own tinted lenses.

Although February 25th’s album release party at Meow Wolf in Denver is already sold out, fans can look forward to seeing these new tunes in the near future as the band resumes its spring tour this weekend at WinterWonderGrass in Steamboat Springs, CO. From there, the group makes their way eastward for a jam-packed March through the south and Midwest.

Closing out February, Fort Collins’ premier venue Washington’s brought back yet another living legend to the front range of Northern Colorado. Innovators of bluegrass and beyond, Sam Bush and his incredible band, consisting of Steve Mougin on guitar, Wes Corbett on banjo, Todd Parks on bass, and Chris Brown on drums, performed an extensive set that left many impressed, ecstatic, and in the end, exhausted but still wanting more. This performance would also mark the group’s first return to the city in almost two years to the date and in the end, the wait was more than worth it.

The evening began with a notable talent in The Big Richard Band. An all-female quartet, this group gave their hearts over to the crowd with a performance that filled the room with silent smiles and raucous applause and even got Sam Bush referencing their set during his. An up-and-coming tour de force, these four local queens of the acoustic machine executed solid renditions of both traditional and modern covers, and with every number, they made the moment their own.

Following a short intermission, a packed house brought the five gentlemen of the newgrass jam to the stage with an ardent welcome of applause, “Bush” chants, and shrill whistling that made the start of the show feel and sound more like a weekend than a Tuesday. Reciprocating the energy, the group got started with a short but sweet Bush original in “Play by Your Own Rules” that sounded on point from the first note. “Transcendental Meditation Blues” filled the second slot and saturated the moment in reflection, beautiful harmonies, and a great melody that had everyone dancing and glowing. “Won’t You Let Me Be Your Man” brought the island vibe with its reggae cadence and three songs in, it was easy to hear that the band was on and were glad to be back in Fort Fun.

Singer / songwriter Jeff Black’s “They’re Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone” was up next and this staple of the Bush canon for years chugged along like a freight train and gave Wes Corbett a chance to take center stage with a great banjo solo as the ringmaster looked on with full attention. Corbett continued in the spotlight with his original “Boss Fight,” which, when asked the meaning of the title by Bush on stage, the author responded that “the music seemed liked the type of music that would be played when someone was fighting the boss in a video game,” leading to audible chuckles throughout the room. The instrumental tune is lightning quick, spotlighting Corbett’s exacting capabilities on the banjo.

Shifting the mood entirely, the crowd was treated to 25 minutes of electricity, feedback, and good times in the next four slots of the setlist. First off, heralding back to his New Grass Revival days opening and backing the great Leon Russell in the early 70’s, Bush rocked out a great version of “Stranger in a Strange Land” and laid the cherry on top with a great pairing of the New Grass original “One More Love Song.” This one-two punch was then followed by the TKO of a high energy “Bananas” that segued into its monstrous counterpart, The Allman Brothers’ “Whipping Post,” which had everyone in the room, including the band, digging deep and getting off on the over-the-top crescendo.

Like a breath of fresh air, the softer “Circles Around Me” once again revealed the expertise of the players to shift from merciless aural exuberance to uplifting lightness without hesitation or error.

Switching instruments for the first time of the night, Bush tuned up the fiddle and paused to address the audience, sharing a note from a young fan that had been passed from the front row to the stage:

“Okay, we got this request, written by a young lady. Uh oh, we might have missed our queue. My mom is obsessed with your song “Howlin’ at the Moon.” The next one is my favorite line. I am 88% obsessed with it. Can you please play it before my bedtime of 8:30? Whoops, sorry, uh well to the little girl in the front row, we hope perhaps maybe you are still here since you may be 88% obsessed with this tune. We do appreciate that so much. 88%, that’s a B+ right? Sing along if you know it.”    

Following a standard version of the fan request, Bush continued the adventure on the fiddle and grinded out a great rendition of John Hartford’s punchy “Vamp in The Middle.” Bush’s speed on the fiddle is hard to track visually but makes the ears revel in the blur of creativity. Parks’ tone was felt the entire evening, but his deep accents came through even more pronounced for this one.

At the close of the Hartford number, guitarist Steve “Mr. Mojo” Mougin explained the history of the next choice and his original, titled “Railroad Man.” “Co-written by Becky Puller, the tale of the tune is about a fiddle that my father-in-law owned that was made by a guy who worked on the railroad and built it out of an old wardrobe. You can still see the wormholes in it. It’s a fine sounding fiddle.” With that, the group got it started, Mougin taking on the vocals and leading the band. The solos of this one were played in rounds, cycling from Corbett’s banjo to Mougin’s acoustic to Bush’s fiddle and back again. Having the opportunity to take in this original, it is apparent that Mougin easily stands alone as an independent artist and is someone everyone should see when he is doing his solo thing.

Taking things up a notch once again, the high-speed Bush instrumental “Big Rabbit” came scurrying down the path and got everyone dancing and trying to keep up with the quintet. Turning Tuesday to a Sunday, Tim Krekel’s spiritual “Walking in a State of Grace” had at least one audience member yelling, “Preach it!” as the group delivered their 4-part harmonies and infused listeners with a little soul shine.

Reaching the end of the show and being the southerly gentleman he is, Sam took a pause to thank those who make their ability to play so easy, recognizing long-time road manager and FOH engineer Rick Wheeler as well as monitor man and senior executive stage manager Dan Scheibel.

Demonstrating that there was still plenty of fun left for the Fort, Bush strapped on his 1956 Fender electric mandolin while Mougin and Corbett donned telecasters and dedicated the next selection to ZZ Top bassist Dusty Hill who passed away last year. Laying down a “wah”some dirty deed in the deceased author’s “Fool for Your Stockings,” the level at which this funky blues number was played once again showed that these players’ abilities know no bounds and their desire to perform the unexpected continues to keep audiences coming back for more. It also demonstrated Bush’s skills on the electric and his ability to work the pedal effects are as honed as what he brings to the stage in the acoustic setting. Raising the temperature even more and wanting to go out on a high note, the set closed with the metal edged original “Stop the Violence.”

Following a short-lived exit and with only minutes to spare until curfew, Bush and Company signed off the evening with Merle Travis’ “Nine Pound Hammer” and with its final notes, the unified patrons gave the group one more audible thanks for their opportunity to have shared life well spent.

Before closing out this review, it is here that the stamina, creativity, and tastefulness of drummer Chris Brown must be recognized. This man perpetuates the groove in mythical fashion and his ability to perform night after night so many different songs from a multitude of genres with such control and open ears just makes one tired thinking of it. He truly lets his appendages do the talking, as he rarely does anything from his silent throne but smile, nod, and enjoy the ride as much as the audience. Thank you, Chris, for keeping the rest of these guys in line. We know without you, it would all go off the rails.

Turning 70 this year, Sam looks more like a fit 50 and plays with a fire, energy, and excitement that continually reflects his inner child. His chops, stage presence, and wit are as sharp as ever. The last time this band blessed Fort Collins with its presence, Bush wore a shirt that read,” Like Kentucky Bourbon, I Get Better with Age” and that adage continued to hold true two years later. Although he has been referred to as the “King of Telluride” there is nary a more humble, down to earth player than Sam Bush.

As many know, Sam Bush is certainly a fan of wisdom, metaphor, and all things literal and the maxim “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” is obviously one that he follows to the tee, especially in keeping this band together. The group is firing on all cylinders and sound even tighter than they did the last time they came to the Centennial State and although the group’s spring dates are wrapping up and they are about to start their seemingly unending festival sets of summer, one thing is for sure: Sam will be back and if you have the opportunity to catch him in the intimate settings he so often plays, don’t think about should, could, or woulds. Pull the trigger and treat yourself! You will walk away happier, healthier, and downright glad you did, even if you end up with a limp and a sore face from all the dancing and smiling.

Saturday night, relative new kids on the psychedelic block Ghost Light made Fort Collins the final stop of their short but sweet spring tour. Hitting the road for the first time since early 2020, this group set out to trip the sound fantastic once again for eleven shows over 16 days. Performing through California, the Pacific Northwest, and ending things on a Rocky Mountain high note here in Colorado, their final venue, the pearl of FOCO, Washington’s, was the scene to close this chapter on what many hope to be a continued creative tale. The group ripped through two sets stacked with original sound, distinction, and improvisation that had everyone hoping it would not be another two years before the ethereal chemistry of the band would be unleashed once again.

Although, this assembly of talent is young as a group, performing less than two hundred shows since 2018, each of the members have reputable resumes. Philadelphia guitar goddess Raina Mullen has played with many giants of jam and seeing her on stage avails any doubt as to why she is on the VIP invite list. With powerful vocals and an axe to match, this talent has earned her place undeniably.

Anyone familiar with the modern jamband scene is familiar with the affect and effect of Mr. Tom Hamilton. From the rootsy American Babies to the lightning in a bottle JRAD to the iconic Billy and the Kids, this man gives it his all ALL the time. The word limitation is unknown to him as he has proved himself time and again as not only a competent multi-instrumentalist, but also as proficient scribe.

Holly Bowling’s notoriety is one that anyone who loves a great rising tale appreciates. Her ability to dole out the keyed experience is deliberate and precise, and her stoic appearance reveals the seriousness of her playing as she appears to be incessantly and intensely listening so that she can add to that which is going around her.

Sitting in the timekeeper’s throne, Scott Zwang has been playing drums since the age of eight. Scott has built a name being a session artist as well as a valued member of Dopapod, RAQ, and Conspirator. He makes good on whatever style he plays and is adept at both the quiet and the thunderous. The newest addition to the group, bassist Taylor Shell is certainly the perfect fit for the other four. His infectious dynamic is certainly not limited to his instrument, as this man channels his inner child without inhibition, often carrying a wide smile for minutes on end as he exchanges looks with his compatriots, all the while bouncing around the stage unable to sit still with everything he has running through him.

Set one opened with American Babies selection “Old Fashioned.” With a Leon Russell echo to it, this stomp shook the building, got everyone in the mood, and started this Saturday night off right. With great singing and blistering solos, it was evident that those who chose to show up were in for a real treat. Four minutes in, the group shifted the high-octane inferno into a murky, cyclical whirlpool that had many swaying and intently listening. In the wake of the serene structure, Bowling took to the piano sound and rolled out multiple bars that washed over the crowd with soft emotion. This one also showed how well the band harmonizes together, revealing early on that the talent does not stop at the instrumentation.

18 minutes later, without pause, the group transitioned into the Mullen led “Faces in the Moon”. This comforting number showed Mullen’s strong vocal capabilities. Hamilton switched it up here and donned the mandolin for the short piece. The pop vibe gave the audience the chance to see that the group is not a one trick pony that is always trying to impress by the endless shredfest. At the close of “Faces,” Hamilton took a moment to simply thank the crowd before moving into another American Babies selection, “This Thing Ain’t Going Nowhere.” This one reads like a Velvet Underground track and Hamilton’s vocal performance sounded like he was channeling Lou Reed’s ghost light. More great Bowling soloing in this one for sure. Taylor’s performance on the higher registry and Scotty’s driving tempo gave this track many opportunities for tension and release from all members of the band.

“Isosceles” off the band’s 2019 release Best Kept Secrets was up next and its root captured that feeling one might imagine it to be like when tumbling through space, without horizon or shore, and this dynamic was only reinforced by the echoey vocals. The tune eventually gave way to a punchier structure, providing stability and a raucous crescendo before breaking through to more great improvisation. Closing out the set, “Fever Dreams” was a cacophony of exuberance, played at a blinding speed and had even the talkers in the house paying full silent attention while the whole of the venue got off on the sweat inducing sear and drove the smiling and energized crowd at its end to the watering hole for refreshment and recap conversation.

Set two opened with the Hamilton-led “The Healing.” This one truly shone on the fact that the driver’s vocal range is broad, as his offering was so high more than this listener thought that Bowling was delivering the lyrical content. From here the band kept everyone on their feet for nearly an hour without reprieve. During that time, the quintet seamlessly transitioned through “Streets of Brooklyn,” “Synth Driver,” “Leave Light On,” and “Joeline” before finally giving everyone, including themselves, a chance to breath. The improvisation and talent demonstrated during this part of the show is why so many fans of these five wants to see and hear more for years to come. The music was well developed and novel and kept the attention of everyone in the house. On the tail end of a lively and animated opener, the band shifted to the slow, soulful ballad “Bring It in Close.”

“Up Here Forever” brought Mullen back to the driver’s seat. This one is infused with the influences of the bands Heart and Black Sabbath and combined perfectly the feminine vocal with the hard-edged and driving force of the construct. The tune eventually disintegrated into a vibe that felt like “The End” by The Doors and finally morphed into the second and closing portion of “Synth Driver” to bring the set to a close.

Pressing their luck against the curfew and under the anxious eye of management, the band made their way back to deliver one more American Babies’ song with “Winter War Games.” Even the encore was spirited and hit the eight-minute mark, ending the night and the tour with a memorable bang.

Although the band played only one tune off their Best Kept Secrets album, it was clear at the close that they could have played Perry Cuomo’s Greatest Hits and what would have been delivered would have been nothing short of epic, creative, and worth seeing again. For these ears, mistake or flub were not in the evening’s vocabulary and the conversation that was had was engaging, diverse, and worth a trip to the afterlife with these five inspired spirits. The group demonstrated a great desire and skill at synergizing multiple genres and sounds, both musically and in lyric, calling upon the ethos of jazz, funk, pop, and the psychedelic, producing in the end something original and refreshing.

Check out more photos from the show.

Talented. Inspired. Spontaneous. Fresh. These are but a few of the descriptors being thrown around the conversation about the up-and-coming bluegrass talent the Big Richard Band. Touted as a neo-acoustic supergroup, the word on the street from the venues they have played reinforces they have all this and more. From the chops to the vocals and a camaraderie that just won’t quit, it is no surprise that their phones have been ringing off the hook to get them scheduled for festival sets and headlining slots across the land.

Although this formation is new to the scene, these players as individuals have been part of the Northern Colorado music collective for some time. Handling mandolin and intermittent guitar, Bonnie Sims is well known in these parts for her collaboration with her husband Taylor and their acclaimed group Bonnie and The Clydes. Cellist extraordinaire Dr. Joy Adams also shares the stage with her spouse Andy Reiner in their trio Half Pelican, while often the two also tour with bluegrass legend Darol Angor. Soulful string-stress Eve Panning has been making her fiddle sing in the successful Denver-based bluegrass quintet The Lonesome Days since 2018 and although she carries a quiet allure on stage, her instrument speaks louder than words. Working the low end for the group and often injecting her singer / songwriter self on the guitar, Emma Rose has played on the Front Range for some time and currently fronts her newest ensemble with Sound of Honey, which not only describes her band but the dynamics of her playing and voice.

As these performers will gladly share, any Big Richard comes with a set of big balls and these ladies tout theirs without a second thought. Owning the stage and representing as confident women and individuals, these powerhouses convey who they are with a no nonsense, no excuse mentality. This aspect not only permeates their musicality, but also their wit, making statements that reflect that they are making this life their own and have no need to apologize to anyone, while at the same time coming off as vulnerable and quite human. The humor they often employ, although potentially viewed as crass at points, only proves further that what they are demonstrating is primarily for their own entertainment and creative fire on this musical journey and for everyone else, a far second. That stated, what they are fashioning on stage is unique, freeing, and an opportunity for anyone to question their own views on the taboo or reinforce the carnal we are all aware of, all the while against a great musical backdrop.

Last weekend, The Armory hosted the band’s second sold out Fort Collins show in a month. Like its sister venue Washington’s, The Armory is an undeniable jewel for live music lovers. With a 200-person capacity, exposed brick walls, hardwood floors, and a balcony, this listening room is state of the art, clean, and clearly executed with taste in mind. Ran by the illustrious Bohemian Foundation, whose focus is on quality with an eye towards community, The Armory restates the uniqueness and special dynamic that is the Fort Collins music scene. With the talented management of Kevin Gregory running a tight ship to a dialed in audio experience executed by Andrew and Jason, the staff, including the most gracious security and behind-the-scenes team of any venue, all of these people combined is what seals the deal for any performance at this truly perfect space. As Bonnie Sims would state later in the evening,” Ain’t no hospitality like Bohemian hospitality.”

At a little past 8 o’clock, the group took to the stage with a packed house warmly greeting them to do what they do best. The group got the show started with Dr. J leading on the traditional “Greasy Coat.” From the first notes through the end, it was clear what the buzz surrounding these ladies was all about. Tight, well-rehearsed, and on point, 4 minutes in, it was easy to hear it was going to be a great night.

At the close of the number, Adams shared that “Greasy Coat” was “an old-time song about condoms. Greasy Coat? C’mon? They still make those out of sheepskin,” the crowd laughing along on the song history. “You too can wear a greasy coat,” Adams using her best sales pitch voice and eliciting even more joy from the concertgoers. With the crowd still giggling, Bonnie Sims chimed in with the disclaimer,” Y’all knew what you were getting into when you came to see Big Richard, okay?”

Next up was another traditional in “The Ghost of Caleb Meyer.” With a perfectly harmonized title line, every seat settled back in silence. This one spotlighted Sims throaty and emotional vocal work that sent goosebumps throughout the room. The beginning chugged along and built steam with every stanza, finishing big and moving many attendees out of their seats to get down at the back of the hall. Showing again their love to engage with their audience, Adams took to the microphone, “That’s a song from our top girl Gillian Welch. If you know who that is, you probably also have a shrine built to her in your bedroom too. Top girl, Gillian Welch.”

Adams continued: “We’re gonna get Emma to break your heart here.” Laying down the upright bass, Emma Rose strapped on the guitar and laid out a beautiful version of “The Blackest Crow” and unleashed her soft, sultry voice on the onlookers. At its close, the four left many wiping their eyes and their heartstrings strummed.

Making time for more banter, Sims and Adams volleyed back and forth.

BS: “We are going to feature our mysterious….,” gazing down the end of the row at violinist Eve Panning.

JE: “We are just moving down the line. Did you think about that?” noting that each of the prior tunes’ leaders followed the positioning of the members of the band on stage.

BS: “I didn’t. We are. Lots of serendipity in this band. Just like weird synchronicity. But we are going to keep moving down the line here as Joy astutely pointed out. Dr Joy. You can call her Dr. Joy Adams.”

JE: “Please don’t.”

BS: “But You can. She doesn’t want you to, but you can. Technically you would be correct if you did.”

JE: “Correct, but I only pull it out when I need to. You know, when some middle-aged…. uh, I’m just not going to go there. Well, you know, when someone is trying to show me a chord….”

BS: “They’re like “did you bring a DI?””, Sims imitating a middle-aged music head.

JE: Continuing with the Sims emulation, “So if there’s a C there, it’s a C chord. You can put anything from a C major arpeggio there. I’m like “I have a Doctorate in Music. F&ck you.” That’s what all that was worth. Ten years of college so I could say that.”

BS: “So you could just burn people when they try to school you. She carries a mighty weight.”

JE: “This is what you have to do to be taken seriously sometimes. Ten years of school.”

BS: “The other end of the spectrum, I have an Associate’s,” Sims proudly stated. “That’s only two years. It was a long time for me. It’s like a doctorate in Bonnie land.”

Leaving the crowd laughing once again, Panning shouldered her fiddle and continued the uplifting feel of the room with an instrumental that put her center stage to show her more than capable talent.

Taking her turn at the schtick, Emma chimed in, “We like to do a variety of things here at Big Richard Incorporated, musically and all other genres of things. We are going to play an old traditional song you might recognize now. It’s by Britany Spears.”

With that, Emma took the reins on “Toxic,” which might have been the first time the tune had been performed in the bluegrass world. As with all things Richard, the quality was of the highest degree and had anyone who was once anti-Brittany rethinking their stance on the pop star.

“Oh, The Dreadful Wind and Rain” was the next choice. Panning alone provided the structure, while the other three focused on vocals. The product: a chilling presentation of the traditional number.

In perfect juxtaposition, the Jimmy Martin classic “Hold Watcha Got” shifted the feeling in The Armory from morose to upbeat and infused the room with cheer, getting many listeners back up and dancing once again.

At the close of the song, Sims returned to the microphone to introduce the next segment of the evening:

“This band is a relatively new band. We are almost one year old. In May, we will be one year old.”

“Happy Birthday!” shouted a voice from the crowd.

Sims addressed the well-wisher, “Thank you. Thank you so much. Part of the allure I guess or the motivation of us to play together is that we each have a really strong leadership and solo ability and so we wanted to showcase that in these more listening room type shows. We are going to feature Joy Adams on this first piece.”

With that introduction, Sims, Rose, and Panning left the stage, leaving Adams and her cello to it.

Adams introduced her tune: “I’m going to sing a song that was hard to write and I got really stuck on it. A very close friend, Ariele Macadangdang, who not only has a great last name, but is also a great songwriter. She helped me finish this one. I once made the mistake of singing it at a fiddle camp in Montana and totally got fired. I don’t think it is that bad. “

Although the name of the song was not shared, this piece was enchanting and haunting (according to Bonnie Sims) and Adams’ vibrato vocals and masterful playing alone in the spotlight truly revealed her standalone talent. Receiving a warm applause for the “fireable” offense, Adams left the stage with a wide smile as Sims took her spot center stage.

Never short on wit, Sims gave a little insight into her creative process: “Alright, well. This is my favorite part of the show because I get to see these gals do it. I am going to sing a song I wrote about myself because that’s what I usually I do. I’m just a self-involved artist, trying to talk about my feelings. I can’t afford therapy. I’m trying to sort through sh!t up here with a microphone. So here is a little therapy sesh just between us.”

Taking her turn at the helm, Sims reached for the guitar and gave up “I’m Not Enough” from her catalog of originals. This one spoke to the insecurity in all of us amid change and growth in the face of future uncertainty. For all of her boisterousness, this one humanized Sims in the best of ways. Sims thanked listeners and welcomed Emma Rose.

“I would tell you what this song is about, but I don’t really know,” was Emma Rose’s only quip before starting her selection. Carrying hints of Joni, Rose gave up a great piece of artistry to the silently seated as everyone absorbed every note of her siren love song.

Closing out the showcase, Sims once again addressed the hall. “We are going to do a couple more songs and then take a really short break and then come back and do a whole other set. You guys ready for set number two after this, right? You are in for the LONG haul with Big Richard. It’s going to be LONG. It’s going to be HARD. It’s going to be BIG.”

Pulling from the Godfather of commercial bluegrass, the foursome whipped out the Bill Monroe / Peter Rowan classic “Walls of Time.” Offering up a solid version of the recognized piece, it was great to see four ladies legitimately represent a song by an artist who was known for not wanting to collaborate with women during his time. This unspoken aspect once again reinforced that these femmes fatales take the backseat to no one.

Before cutting to the set break, Sims took one more opportunity to laugh along with the crowd: “We get all kinds of questions being an all-female band called Big Richard. We try to answer them the best we can with the least amount of curse words. I think this final song explains it best personally so we are going to sing it for you.”

Keeping to the traditional theme, the set closed with another bluegrass classic in Radiohead’s “Creep.”  

Several points can be taken away from seeing these proficient individuals. Their intoxicating chemistry, accentuated by a palpable kindred dynamic of balanced seriousness and triviality is a breath of fresh air. The delivery is authentic, and they easily pull their audience into their world, where they are celebrating life itself, their accomplishments, and enjoying the ride all the way through. They honor the good names that have influenced them and bring enough unique style to their readings that even if the tune is a common cover, anyone paying attention can easily recognize their sincere infusion of creativity and a drive to make it their own. Although some might consider their banter crass, referencing the obvious connection between their name and genitalia, these amorphous angels aren’t trying to sell anything but rather ascending themselves and the audience to a place free from conformity and expectation. Instead, the goal is a good time shared and to leave the venue, whether listener or performer with a soul full of laughter and a little more joy in the heart.  

In creating this review, the intent here is to give a glimpse into this new experience that has graced the music scene. Set two carried more great music and comedic eloquence, and although writing about it would shine more light on the creativity of this fierce some foursome, seeing it firsthand is a must.

Friday night, Widespread Panic returned once again to Red Rocks Amphitheatre for their annual celebratory get down.  As per the usual, the band performed to a sold out crowd on the opening night of three and brought their southern heat to the faithful. This weekend also brings Panic’s count to over seventy shows at the infamous venue since their first performance back in May of 1996 and between the turnout and the turn up, neither the band nor the crowd showed signs of this anticipated weekend event coming to an end anytime soon. Although being off the road for nearly a month, this tried-and-true band of talent needed no warm up or a moment to kick off the rust of rest and gave the capacity crowd everything they had.

With perfect temperatures and an overcast sky, set one got going at a little past 7 pm. John Bell stepped to the microphone and greeted the crowd with that undeniable raspy voice, “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.”

With that, the band opened with “Pigeons” and the night was on. The sound was dialed in from the start and the whole place began to shake. The venue was wall to wall good vibes and from that first note it was easy to feel that it was going to be a great night. Chuck Berry’s “Let It Rock” filled the second slot and kept everyone enjoying the soulful blues that this band delivers oh so well. This number would also start the almost non-stop segue delight that would be the whole of the set. Without pause, the band moved into “Chilly Water”. With the intermittent raindrops, and the cool evening, this selection seemed appropriate and the transition into fIREHOUSE’s “Sometimes” just kept everyone smiling and bouncing right along with the band.

Stopping only for a moment, Jorma Kaukonen’s “Genesis” was warmly recognized by the audience. The buildup was precise and beautiful and gave way to a dizzying climb before moving into the thunderous “Big Wooly Mammoth”. The pachyderm of power was the last piece before the closing of the “Chilly Water” sandwich, which came in at almost ten minutes and with the level of energy put out, it certainly didn’t come out as an afterthought or forgone conclusion. One would think after nearly an hour of solid, dynamic playing, the group would take a breath, but instead, the six just kept it going, transitioning again into the unsettling “Blight”. This piece was the first comment on the Roe vs. Wade decision and had Dave Schools belting his opinion, commanding everyone to “stand by your woman ‘cause her body is her f*&$#ing own” and then at the tune’s close reminding everyone that “we are stronger together, we have to stick together.” “Greta” was up next and its bounce was a perfect juxtaposition to its uneasy predecessor. “Greta” shifted into a nice, funky five-minute jam before settling into the Panic classic “Space Wrangler” for the set closer.

With a forty-five-minute pause, set two opened with a one two punch of Tom Petty’s “You Wreck Me” and the band’s hard edged original “You Got Yours”. “C.Brown” hit third base and started another run of arrows in the setlist as the group would play the rest of the night in transition with only one noticeable pause. “Little Lilly” came in next and the group dropped a great four-minute jam in the middle that was full of angular rewards and showed that the band can certainly still bring out high level improvisation. “Radio Child” and “All Time Low” continued to reveal why this group has sold out this venue for decades and that the ticket is worth every penny and probably for most, we are all getting off cheap.

Everyone needing a break to revitalize, JB took the venue through a soft and lilting rendition of Neil Young’s “Don’t Be Denied”. The melancholy of the piece visibly spawned many hugs and longing looks throughout the venue. At its close, the band took a short breather, got a drink and gathered themselves for closing the set. Setting to the skies, “Airplane” took off and soared high, transitioning into a great jam before landing at “Diner”. Closing the frame with a reminder of positivity, “Ain’t Life Grand” was a sing along from the first word and had everyone moving.

For the encore, the band showed that they love playing this venue as much as we love attending it. Showing no signs of exhaustion, the group delivered a two-song encore in “None of Us Are Free” and “Lawyer, Guns, and Money”, both of which gave the band one last chance at social commentary and show the fans exactly on which side of the line they stand: with us and against all that is wrong, corrupt, and that which must be challenged by love, protest, and for the positivity of change.

In the end, everyone got what they expected: nearly three hours of soul-freeing music that swung the spectrums and genres, and showed that what this group brings is original, inspired, and worth the trek and the time. The fan base certainly demonstrates the family aspect and it was refreshing once again to see this camp filled with fans of every race, age, and gender, gathering in community and sharing in the notes that bind us together and make us stronger as a group while strengthening us as individuals.

Check out more photos from the show.

Tradition is often what defines a people as a culture and all tradition is born out of habit. Some habits are good and some not so much, while others are just plain bad ass. Like Widespread Panic and their annual multi-day runs at Red Rocks Amphitheatre, another staple can be counted on at the world’s most iconic and scenic outdoor venue.

Since September of 1991, Blues Traveler has played Red Rocks 33 times and of those, 26 have been performed on the 4th of July and for the twentieth year in a row, the bad boys of New Jersey let their freedom ring out once again in the Rocky Mountains on Monday night. Supported by Cory Wong, Robert Randolph, and ten thousand plus of their closest friends, the five some lit off auditory fireworks display that showed once again how this band makes this date of liberation their own and why they wouldn’t think of spending it anywhere else year after year.

The evening kicked off with a soulful set of searing sermons from Robert Randolph and his latest band. Laying it out with everything from the funk, to gospel, to the psychedelic, this man showed how much church can be outrageous fun.

Following the Randolph Family, Cory Wong and the Wong Notes brought their high energy from the onset and kept the upbeat vibe going where the opener left off. With a six-piece horn section, the sound was full and the instrumentals that band delivered showed how polished a band can be. Wong also brought a charisma to the stage with dance moves and accentuations that made the set visually entertaining as well.

Following two great sets that would have been worth the price of admission, the main event had finally arrived. Blues Traveler dropped a single set that went two plus hours and had everything from nostalgia, the sing along, the sit ins, and so much more. The band started up with Charlie Daniel’s “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” and got everyone involved from the onset. “Runaround” came early in the set and spotlighted Kiran Wilson on trumpet, son of the BT organ master Ben Wilson, sitting side by side with his dad and being heralded by Popper with a full house applause at its end. “Mulling It Over” had the Wong Notes horns sitting in and included a duel for the highest note between Popper and the saxophonist. Cory Wong joined in on “Carolina” and much like the pulmonary duel, Wong and Chan went into a full-on shred fest battle, ending with both sides sweaty, smiling, and vibing on the gratitude of the audience. Obviously, the show wouldn’t have been complete with a sit in from Robert Randolph and he got his chance with the encore “The Mountains Win Again”, demonstrating his slide capabilities and having his own moment with Popper, as the two locked eyes and exchanged soulful notes on the melancholy ballad.

In the end, the faithful got four hours of music, a perfect Morrison night, and an opportunity to celebrate our country’s birth and the ringing in of another memory of fun, family, and the Fourth.

Check out more photos from the show.

Another weekend in the Denver Metro area has come to a close and was once again filled with epic, sold out shows that brought music lovers by the thousands to our most favored venues. Red Rocks saw two great nights of the annual Tedeschi Trucks Band, while Planet Bluegrass hosted their annual RockyGrass Festival, celebrating their 50th, and bringing all manner of living legends out for the birthday festivities. Although there is no doubt that there is a ridiculous level of excitement and electricity when being surrounded by smiling faces as far as the eye can see and hearing music turned up to eleven all the while set against the backdrop of awe-inspiring scenery, sometimes simplicity and intimacy, that familial sense of community, bears greater gifts on smaller stages.

Thursday night saw the return of local favorites Bill and Jilian Nershi at the Mile High City’s infamous speakeasy Ophelia’s Electric Soapbox. Supported by drummer Mark Levy of Circles Around The Sun, Bassist / Guitarist Ross James of innumerable collaborative efforts, and shred master mandolinist Silas Herman, anyone who bought tickets for this event knew they would be in for a a great night of live performance to start the weekend off right.

Ophelia’s Electric Soapbox originally opened as a brothel and hostel in 1889 and for most of her existence, it has remained true to her carnal nature. From brothel to peep show to adult bookstore, Ophelia’s has been that girl that every good-hearted mother warned their not-so-innocent children about. In 2015, Ophelia got a second lease on life and began operating as an eatery and live music venue. Since the change, this venue has given up-and-coming local acts the chance to shine, while also bringing in bigger names that no one would ever expect to see in such a small place. The food is clean and tasty and the staff, dressed in eye make-up and baudy attire, are warm, welcoming, and eager to please. The concert area hosts two floors and clear sight lines promise a good leering no matter where one is standing. As if all that wasn’t enough, Ophelia’s just reopened herself up once again after three months of renovations and her fresh new look was pleasantly received by all who entered her chambers.

The band hit the stage at a little past eight to a mostly filled house and it was relieving to see that those who know the talent of these players didn’t allow a Thursday night or the crowd and lack of parking due to the Rockies baseball game a couple of blocks away keep them from coming out.

Nershi tuned and then took to the microphone to welcome everyone: “Alright. We are Ophelia's Funky Family Band here to entertain you for the night!”

Following introductions of Mark, Silas, and Ross, Billy promised that more family would be joining the group later on in the night, a comment most figured referenced the absence of Jilian from the opener. Billy continued,” We are going to play a tune String Cheese started playing after hearing Leftover Salmon do it oh so well in these parts and quickly became a part of our setlists.” With that the foursome got going with the instrumental “Whiskey Before Breakfast” Short and sweet and finishing with an “Ole!” from Nershi, Billy asked the audience to welcome the Nershi Girls, namely Jilian and Billy’s daughter, Lauren, to come out and join the band. After a few moments of no appearance by either, “Billy chortled, “Maybe they are at the bar.” A few moments later, both made their way up, grinning from ear to ear and with drinks in hand. Jilian apologized with a sheepish look,” Sorry everyone, we were up at the bar”, resulting in warm hearted laughter from the band and audience alike.

The group got it together and layed out The Stanley Brothers classic “East Virginia Blues”. With the authentic vocals of Jilian and Lauren, the tune took on that genuine old time feel. Next, with Lauren taking lead vocals, the Spanish vibe of “She’s A Pistol” transported the urban brick structure and its inhabitants from Appalachia to somewhere south of the border. This one included a big finish that raised the temperature of the room a few degrees and certainly got a lot of feet moving. At its end, Nershi, impishly smiling, informed everyone, “That one makes me think of tequila”, setting off laughter throughout the room.

“Birds”, an original composition by Jilian and originally inspired and written for her daughters, had a lilting and ethereal quality and mixed a folky vibe with just the right amount of the psychedelic. The tune is beautiful and strong and certainly captures that feeling of flight. Jilian sounded assured and with the warm accompaniment of Lauren backing her, one could feel the connection between the mother and daughter and recognize that its meaning ran deeper than just putting another song down for the set. At the solo, Billy’s watery effect made the room swirl while the melodic support of Ross James opened the heart vibe of those who were listening. Herman’s mandolin danced over the top and Levy’s drumming showed patience and talented listening, as there were multiple changes and builds throughout.

The String Cheese staple and Nershi original “Big Compromise” was up next. Although when performing with the big band, Billy always takes the vocals, but here, singing was left to Lauren and Jilian, and justice they did in the spotlight.

Dolly Parton’s fan favorite “Jolene” was recognized by patrons early on and got the audible cheers going from the onset. With a healthy opening jam on the theme and great exchanges between Herman and Nershi, this one got everyone’s attention and saw the Nershi family band taking it up a notch. The group sounded so tight for this. Levy shuffled the band and audience off their feet as Ross bounced everyone along while the Nershi / Herman combo kept everyone laughing with the wow factor. Add a couple of powerful women on the vocals and what came out over those 8 minutes was something that would even make Dolly Parton take pause.

As the Nershi girls left “to get a cocktail”, Billy took center stage on the punchy Kenny Baker / Bill Monroe instrumental “Jerusalem Ridge”. Wide-eyed and with a face full of a Cheshire smile, Levy made all the changes as his head pivoted back and forth from every stringed player, taking as much joy in the tune itself as the audible antics of his compatriots.

Closing out the set, Lauren and Julian returned, this time switching positions and seeing Lauren strap on her mother’s acoustic. Announcing the song as a sing-along, Lauren led the crowd through a fun and warm rendition of the 4 Non-Blondes “What’s Going On?”. The Nershi progeny certainly demonstrated that the apple doesn’t fall far from the musical tree, executing the simultaneous singing and playing without fault or incident. The joy of performing rang out and was reciprocated by every face in the place.

Set two opened saw the return of the four horsemen of the pick-ocalypse with back-to-back instrumentals in “Big Sciota” and “Minor Swing”. The stripped-down openers really presented each player an opportunity to be showcased and nary a note was wasted. The Nershi girls then returned for a short and simple reading of The Everly Brothers’ “Cathy’s Clown”.

Emmylou Harris’ upbeat “Roses in the Snow” was up next and saw great picking between Billy and Silas. At the end, Billy belted out, “Rock and roll Rodeo! Yeah!”, followed by a string of cackles. A very cool and unexpected version of Amy Winehouse’s “Valerie” kept the room grooving along. Jilian took note that “this is one of the artists that Lauren turned us on to.” The vocal harmonies between the two ladies lifted the spirit both in sound and spectacle as the duo locked eyes across the stage and shared a beaming gaze throughout the performance. The group took their time with this one. Following the first stanza, the sextet quieted the instrumentation and did a slow build that grew and finished with a frenetic solo from Herman, bringing everyone in the venue to full attention at its close.

To set up the next tune, Billy approached the mic adorned with his infamous Elvis sunglasses:” This next song is a bit of a journey inside the mind. Inside the mind is a universe as detailed as outside the mind. This one is inside the mind”, to which Lauren responded with a laugh,” I was going to say the exact same thing.” With that, the journey continued with “Am I Still Here?”. Its beginning sound was light while the lyrical reading was haunting and eventually the whole thing turned heavy as the band churned the placid self-reflection into dark waters and ecstatic chaos in search of the answer to the existential question presented. In perfect juxtaposition and shifting gears once again, Ophelia’s got to get her groove thing on with Blondie’s “Heart of Glass”, which expectedly had everyone singing along and saw many audience members executing their best disco moves.

No Nershi show in Colorado would be complete without a sit-in from someone in this expansive musical community and this night would be no exception. Shawn “E-L” Eckels from the over-the-top positive force that is Andy Frasco and The U.N. emerged from the audience and took up second guitar duties for Emmylou Harris’ “Two More Bottles of Wine”. This high energy blast off took the energy way up and when Eckels and Nershi went head-to-head in dueling guitar fashion, the place just lost their marbles. Taking it from a duel to a truel, Herman jumped in and the trifecta crowded up against each other on that tiny stage and let it all hang out in all the right ways. In the end, the band brought the show and night to a close with a great rendition of the Waylon Jennings / Willie Nelson tune “Don’t Cuss The Fiddle”.

Overall, the band sounded great. For being a relatively young ensemble, the group was well rehearsed and came across more than comfortable with each other. Nershi still has great musical agility and shows no signs of slowing. Silas Herman continues to make great on the Herman name and it is evident that he is a talent in his own right. Mark Levy carries the beat with an infectious smile and keeps the energy light and if anyone in the room is looking for someone to connect to for the positive, Mark is certainly happy to oblige. Although typically known for his guitar work, Ross James laid out a notably solid performance on the bass, not just playing standard takes on the tunes, but rather injecting all the bells and whistles one would expect from a seasoned player. Jilian’s voice and playing is perfectly complementary to the sound and the overall delivery of the group. Lauren’s talent certainly reflects a great combination of talent from her parents. With a solid voice and confident guitar playing, this sweet apple shows promise that the Nershi talent will continue on into the next generation. Although there was quite a bit of joy throughout Ophelia’s on Thursday, one thing that made it extra special was watching Jilian and Billy, with prideful eyes, take in the talent of their daughter. This dynamic was also compounded by being able to witness these three feeding off of each other as I am sure they have so many times before sitting around their living room, performing with and for each other.

With her fresh makeover, Opehilia reminded everyone how much a special little lady she is. Her sound was perfect and the party she threw was enjoyed by all. Anyone who was there will certainly return when the call of a good time goes out and more memories will be made for Denver’s best dressed lady of the night.

Check out more photos from the show.

Friday night, Les Claypool brought his dastardly creation Bastard Jazz to Boulder Theater and for the lucky 850 who got tickets to the sold-out show, many left the building awe struck, jaw dropped, and looking for more. Friday and Saturday would serve as the final two stops of the nine-date tour that had started in California at the end of July, but for fans of the man who gave us Primus, many not only planned to catch the Denver tour closer, but also four more nights of the band that sucks, evenly split between Red Rocks and the Gerald Ford Amphitheater in Vail.

With the doors opening at seven and the band firing up the weird by a little past eight, the ship drew sails for uncharted waters, dark, deep, and devoid of expectation, and nary a soul cried out for us to turn back. Lit in the hue of deep purple and thick blue, the stage was drenched in smoke as the four horsemen of the aural apocalypse started the night with an east Indian feel and set out for adventure. Mike Dillon started the beat on the tabla with its recognizable hollow metal sound while Stanton Moore began keeping time, steady and straight. Claypool and Skerik both pulled long-noted moans out over the top, setting the room on tilt as many closed their eyes to better absorb the auditory murk.

Six or so minutes in, the band switched it up and drove the music into a cyclic groove and gave Dillon his first opportunity to show his mastery of the vibraphone, laying down an error-free melody and making it look easy. Skerik stepped up next and started delivery on his pulmonary push of off-key skronk, tickling the funny bones of the strange. Between the chaos of Skerik’s dischord and the Claypool thunder, everyone was getting off on the uneasiness of the music early on and, scanning the room, it was clear that everyone felt like they had made the perfect choice for the night.

At seventeen minutes, the King of Oddity called all ears to himself, dragging extended notes down the fretboard, grabbing the attention of the other three fatherless, making them aware he was changing the focus. He plucked out a bouncy rift and played it over and over, taking it up with each measure into higher and higher octaves, until it melted in an indistinguishable puddle of nonsense. From the aqueous solution, Claypool then pulled out a funk groove that spawned a wide smile across Stanton Moore’s face as he slipped right into the pocket and got dirty. At this point everyone threw in and rode the groove, turning the place from spectacle to dance party.

At the tailend of an earful of insanity and twenty-eight minutes into the set, the band finally took its first break. To well-deserved and raucous applause, Claypool addressed the audience: ”Well, this is Bastard Jazz. More bastard than jazz as you can see. We started doing this. That’s it, that’s the story. I happened to be in your neighborhood and decided to throw some bastards out.”

The next segment of the viscous worm dove deep into the muck and mire and plodded along, inch by inch, focused and mindless, bite after bite through the organics. Mike Dillon changed percussive instrumentation with almost every measure, toying with each device for only a moment and then moving on, communicating with the invertebrate through the talking drum, triangle, timbali, and many manners of accouterments. Stanton Moore’s demonstration of time showed a being whose arms are directly connected to his ears and both are fused together through something unearthly.

Ten minutes into the second movement, as if pulling away from the microcosm of the terrestrial origin, the whole of the group began to ascend into the infi-scape of the celestial as the wide-eyed onlookers moved through space like the cosmic birth scene of Koyaanisqatsi. Droning meteoric strands of Skerik sped past as sequential Stanton time shifted from precise to unanticipated lightning burst, the only constant: an unsettled, driving bass line that pushed through angular deformity, strewn with distant disheveled but perfectly placed star-like voicings of Dillon’s randomness.

Taking a moment to gather the consciousness scattered about, a breath, and a drink, the whole of the room saddled up again. The next passage of the night conjured more cartoon soundtrack than music, but of course not your typical Saturday morning fare, but rather something born out of The Twilight Zone. Here the two major characters were a bass-shaped elephant pursuing, while also being pursued, an alligator with xylophone pegs for teeth. The caricature chase eventually gave way to a lumbering, plodding bass modality, marching slowly into the unknown. Rolls of skins and brass presses flurried around the undeviating pathway. The walls shook, sternums rattled, and that feeling of secure fear birthed excitement as we all continued to drink from the experiment.

Now an hour into it, the form changed yet again from sinister shenanigans back into a more constructed and palatable melody. With the gate open wide, Dillon returned to vibraphone and hammered it out with two mallets in each hand, his gaze locked into his instrumentation as his mind seethed with creative delivery. A steady jam continued and Claypool stepped to his effects pedals and began toying with the auricular canvas, sifting through soft accents while planting and reaping reverberating expressions while the others laid out their thoughts during the pauses in the conversation. Stanton accented and flashed, and the groove throwdown moved even those who were not akin to dancing.

Seventy minutes in, Skerik and Claypool began the next piece with a call and response interlude, which eventually gave way to a bluesy head that was more voodoo than gospel. This body developed for several measures and showed yet another facet of talent and the ability of the four to shift once again without misstep or error. Having run its course, the creature morphed this time into a frenetic chase and had the audience and the band itself holding on as best everyone could. Evolving further, the product shifted into a shuffle before dissolving into sporadic phrasings and disintegrated pieces. With dreams of Coltrane and middle eastern tales strewn about and throughout, the group softly spread cosmic goo as the room dripped with the psychedelic.  

At its close, Claypool growled: “That last one was dedicated to that Colorado marijuana. Skerik is high as hell!” and then sang comically the ELO chorus “Don’t bring me down, Bruce!”

Skerik retorted,” Colonel..”

Claypool: “Yes sir. Something on your mind?”

Skerik: “I came to play!”

Claypool: “I came to make sandwiches!”, illicing a wave of laughter from the crowd.

Skerik: “I have nothing to get high with…. except the music!”

Claypool eloquently closed the conversation with, “You’re f*$%ed.”

The final session kicked off with a high-stepping bassline and the timekeepers fell right in line, bringing the energy back up. Skerik brought it with a strong funk contribution and the Boulder Theater was once again up and on their feet. The last seventeen minutes of the show was a non-stop boogie, strewn with sweat, and would be a strong finish to an evening that would not soon be forgotten.

For those who chase the note, the idea of a supergroup often conjures feelings of excitement and anticipation, but oft the delivery on the promise leaves much to be desired in light of malpractice and ego. This was not the case with the bastard quartet. Throughout the single, two-hour set, the foul four worked as a singular multi-headed beast, each mind independent while connected to the others. The music from start to finish was accessible and exciting and kept all but the few faint of heart in those four walls through to the end. The music was truly a fusion of many flavors, from the dark forests of Asia to the humid revival of the American South, and even now it is a bit of a mystery whether these ungentlemen have been practicing extensively for this tour or they are independently that good, honing the ability to form a whole with whomever they connect with. The sound and execution were without stumble, fumble, or carelessness, and was certainly demonstrated in a masterful way that guaranteed for many, including myself, that when Claypool brings his band of bastards around again, there won’t be an empty seat on the tour.

Monday night, Chris and Rich Robinson brought their southern rock and roll swagger back to Red Rocks Amphitheatre for the third time in a year. Playing exactly to the date of the opening two-night stand at Red Rocks last year on the Shake Your Money Maker 30th Anniversary Tour, the band once again gave it their all to those who were more than happy to come out for the Monday night party the Robinson brothers threw in the continued revival of The Black Crowes.

Since July of 2021, the standard format for the band has revolved around the celebration of the ten track album that put them on every rock and roll radar everywhere followed by deep cuts and fan favorites. Monday night would prove to be different in a few ways. First, it was the final stop on the North American tour before the band flew the roost and migrated across the pond for a two month romp around Europe, Japan, and Australia. Second, the setlist would deviate significantly from the aforementioned routine and take on a true Black Crowes’ show, full of surprises, covers, and enough energy to power a small city, or a large amphitheater if you will.

The night got started with a one-two punch with two tracks from the band’s The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion. With “No Speak No Slave” followed by “Sting Me”, the group lit the fuse with an inferno that would burn for nearly two hours.

“Twice As Hard” got everyone singing and it was clear that the time on the road had done nothing but tighten this band’s engine as hands were thrown in the air as so many on those magical sandstone steps belted out every word and the band fed off of the great energy.

“Goodbye Daughters of the Revolution” was up next and, from a relative standpoint, would be the first rarity of the night. With only 11 renditions of the tune played since the beginning of 2021, this rendition fired on all cylinders and carried that southern rock vibe into the sky. With great slide work from Rich Robinson and tasty licks from Isaiah Mitchell, as well as ivory runs by newest member Erik Deutsch on the keys, this one had a flair that kept the energy reeling.

The next tune was introduced by Chris as “a perfect little love song about perfume and valium.” With that, the strut of “Under the Mountain” got under way. In the mid-nineties, this one got lots of stage time, but has only been recently revived, this outing being its third in 2022 and prior to July, it hadn’t been shared with the world since 2013. It contained all the power of its early days and sounded well-rehearsed.

Taking a moment for everyone to breathe, “Descending” showed that the talent of these musicians isn’t just about being balls to the wall. This melancholy number let Chris’ vocal range be seen and the soulful side of the strings be heard. This was the first rendition of the song for 2022 and the first since September of 2021. The ending contained a beautiful piano outro by Deutsch that had everyone swaying and smiling silently.

“Hard To Handle” brought the energy back up and got the whole place dancing. Chris often turned the microphone to the crowd and let the thousands belt out the all too familiar lyrics. Short, sweet, and superb, seeing this tune at Red Rocks epitomized the magic of the sandstone synagogue.

Dedicating the next one “to all the lovers here tonight”, the biggest bust out of the evening was up next in the dark staccato of “Lickin’”. Not played since 2010 and only played 5 times since 2005, this rarity off the Lions album certainly showed the winged brothers Robinson were seeing this night just as special as those souls who made the trek up the mountain to catch it. “Horsehead” was dedicated to “all the bliss seekers out there” and yet again, this one has only popped up in the setlist ten times over the last year and before that it had been shelved since 2010. The gritty thickness of these two tunes back-to-back had many reveling in that 70’s vibe of loud amps, distorted guitars, and the power of rock and roll.

“She Talks to Angels” showcased Chris’ emotional depth as Rich gave over his talent on the unobscured strings of his acoustic. Following band intros, the octet continued their southern gospel with another spiritual in “Thorn in my Pride”. Brian Griffith’s drum fills here were loose and on time, thundering the soul of the music, the band, and audience, giving everyone over to conviction. The crescendo of this one melted many a face and contained a breakdown in the middle that had Chris scatting as Sven Pipen rattled the continental divide before Chris wielded the harmonica for his musical contribution which just lit the place up. The tension and release was incredible and when the band hit on the final lyrics, hands and arms went all akimbo with ecstasy.

Cover number two of the night had bassist Sven Pipen leading the way with the all too familiar bassline of The Undisputed Truth’s “Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone”. Swirled in Leslie, Pipen, Griffith, and Deutsch carried the root as Chris took everyone to church. The sparkling souls of Leslie Graham and Mackenzie Adams infused their vocals into this one, making anyone within earshot dance with a little more swagger and strut their stuff just a little bit harder.

Wrapping the opened roof room in warmth, the powerful “Wiser Time” was bestowed upon the crowd, as yet another example of the Crowe’s canon that checks all the boxes: great writing, incredible structure, and a feeling that encompasses tradition as well as innovation.

To close the set, the powerhouses “Jealous Again” and “Remedy” sent everyone into the ride home with a smile, a kick in their step, and a lasting memory of yet another great rock and roll evening on the Rocks with some of the best talent in the business.

For the encore, The Rolling Stones’ “Rocks Off” got the treatment and although it was the last piece of the night, it was certainly performed as no afterthought.

From start to finish, the band gave it their all. Everyone came out of the gates guns blazing and laid out their last night stateside as one for the record books. For anyone who thought the Robinson reunion was little more than a cash grab, this night proved once again that this statement couldn’t be farther from the truth. No one sat on their laurels or mailed it in and each tune was played with passion, creativity, and vigor. At the end of two hours, no one walked out thinking that it could have been better or that they were seeing the end of something. Moreso, from those overheard conversations as we all descended ramps, many were talking about what 2023 would hold. For one patron, this night was one of 18 he had caught on the tour and the genuine joy he exuded talking about all that he had seen and heard made this writer realize that as magical as Red Rocks is, what the Brothers of a Feather have is what often makes this hallowed ground spiritual.

For many, Labor Day weekend always means a three-day weekend for the hard working, but for the jamband community, it always means Phish is going to blow minds and melt faces just outside the Mile High City. Although this staple has been reenacted now eleven times since 2011, this year got a little something extra: a fourth night. This attribute is something phans have been rumoring, wishing, begging, and pleading for on message boards and in conversation for quite some time and 2022 was finally the year the dream came true.

Among the community who planned on attending, the outlook for Thursday’s show was filled with anticipation, especially in light of tickets being still available and so many potentials skipping the opening night because of work or as an effort to conserve energy for the rest of the weekend. In fact, by 8 pm, ticket sales were at 24,000 and one could still pick up extras on Cash or Trade for well below face value.  These dynamics led many people to believe that those who opted out were going to get a lesson from the band, who would speculatively drop a show that would be regrettable to miss.

The band hit the stage at minutes past eight and, after making eyes at the crowd and laughing amongst themselves, the band wasted no time starting up “Sand” to open the weekend. This version plodded along at an even pace for the lyrical section, before moving into the jam, which was well crafted and the four moved as one and although it never left the planet, it certainly didn’t disappoint.

As the end dematerialized, those near the front could see Gordon pushing pedals and banging the body of his bass, signifying the expected: “Down With Disease”. Although the opening was botched by a beat, the band shook it off and gave a strong performance, vocally and musically, and had the place dancing and grooving to the opening combination. The improvisation was unhurried and stage citizenry were listening to each other and advancing as a united front.

Without pause, the tempo shifted from straight ahead to upbeat shuffle and Gordon stepped to the microphone and told the tale of Kitty Malone, UFOs, and Tomahawk County. “Scent of a Mule” got the raucous recognition from the house, as it should have as this was to be the first bust-out of the weekend. Not played since 2021 and 46 shows, this equine has become more elusive, so roping this steed checked the list for those new to the scene as well as those who miss the mule. Although there was no major dueling and a few lyrical mistakes, the ride gave everyone a smile.

Although a clear stop was held in pause, Trey plucked at “Ocelot” and Fishman proceeded appropriately, with McConnell and Gordon following suit right after. This number was tight from start to finish and bounced around the room under the open sky.

“Heavy Things” kept the feeling light, upbeat and provided the nostalgia that many older heads imbibe who attend Dick’s as their annual pilgrimage. McConnell’s Wurlitzer solo was playful and out-front and just made the heart smile as looks of joy were exchanged and witnessed in all directions.

In perfect opposition to the brightness of its predecessor, the edgy, chaotic lead of “Axilla (Part II)” brought everyone into channeling their inner badass, full of angst and fist pumping. The dark closing section dwindled only for only a few minutes before the band segued without error or delay back into the upbeat of “Back on the Train”. This version threw down some great jamming and had Page alternating between clawing at the Clav and banging it out on the Grand while Trey shredded it double time. Fishman and Gordo’s superb foundation kept the whole thing anchored as the feelgood frenzy almost came off the tracks.

Reaching Land’s End and slipping into both musical and lyrical waters, the ebb and bob of “Theme from the Bottom” proved to be full of that murk that Phish is so incredibly talented at, able to submerge the largest of gatherings. Hues of blue and green slid and shifted as Kuroda’s handiwork added magic to the auditory aqueous solution, making those locked in feel even more discombobulated with joyous disorientation.

To close the first set, the band turned to calypso and fired up “Blaze On”. Following the first stanza, Trey called to McConnell, “Leo!”, and Page did a short but excited run down the keys before Anastasio returned to singing. At the close of the resounding sung title, Anastasio remarked, “Blaze on! It’s legal!”, generating a short, but noticeable applause. In total, the first set ran 76 minutes and had some great energy. The trifecta opener certainly was the ear catcher, but all the tunes shone in their own way, and much fun was had to start off the weekend.

Set two got the Gordo treatment once more with a strong rendition of “Possum”. Anastasio and Company fired on all cylinders for this one and the audience, rested and recharged from the setbreak, shook it for the full eight-minute life of the harried and hurried marsupial.

“Twist” brought the “woo” factor and then some. Starting off quite reserved, the audience regardless was certainly happy to throw in for their contribution to the song. The jam section started off wide, the JEMP membership playing outside of each other, one laying their line followed by another’s, and so on, instead of playing as one immutable force all running for the finish line.

The longest track of the night would shine its light in “Ruby Waves”. Clocking in at seventeen minutes, the dynamics flexed the muscles of the band. With its inspirational lyrics and uplifting structure, this one had many spinning, looking up at the twinkling skyscape, and calling out “an ocean of love will carry me up from this prison of lies”. Adorned with McConnell’s synth library, Page’s contribution gave it additional cosmic ether that seemed just to play into the infinite perspective of the song’s lyrics. The improv set off on its journey in a high tempo form, Fishman rolling out wave after wave of cymbal and tom work while Trey called out to open waters and Gordon rumbled on the horizon like a storm immense and visible but distant enough that the intake of beauty overshadows the looming feeling of danger. Seven minutes in Page turned to the Hammond and Leslie effect and Trey went 70’s rock star, heated shred increasing the fervor of the audience. The jam cooled and Trey enacted an effect that strongly resembled a baritone saxophone as Mike finger-rolled multiple single note strands as he climbed octaves. Fishman tapped out double beat snare snaps while Page bled in the ambient glue that held it together.

Without a breath, “Don’t Doubt Me” dropped and the dissonant number got it all moving again. As a Sci-Fi Soldier original, this would be its third time to hit the stage since its Halloween debut in Vegas of 2021 and the band certainly gave it the treatment. Resounding with its hard-edged head, the freeform became unsettling and dark, echoing over the masses, before turning back on itself to reform under playful melody, backbeat antics, and the pop and pulse that is characteristically to so much we love about Phish.

Anastasio’s original “A Wave of Hope” segued out of the New Orleans-esque closing of “Don’t Doubt Me” and brought the field of Dick’s back on line for some significant dancing and movement. Filled with elevating lyrics and imagery, this rocker contained some great tension and release, as the message and the vehicle broke loose multiple times and had twenty thousand faces beaming for more.

The new groove of “The Howling” got everyone baying at the moonless sky and ears deep in the funk fissure, Fishman even called out “Yeah!”, lighting up the audience. Although short lived at six minutes, the silent message got across. As the structure turned to drone, the familiar guitar line of “Piper” emerged and Fishman rattled off his cymbal stirrings before settling into the high hat beat indicative to the piece. The spiraling rotation of lyrical contribution built upon a equally cyclical form, held for only a minute before the band let out across the land on the back of the worm, incrementally increasing the speed and riding the scarlet invertebrate as long as they could hold on. The fever grew, gaskets blew, and the audience just ate it up. Not only did this version time out at thirteen minutes, but it was also the first time it has closed a second set.

Leaving the night on a high note, “Harry Hood” got the encore slot and as a staple in this position, it left everyone with a warm feeling at the close of night one. Walking out into night, widened smile, among countless others, it was certainly another night well lived.

In the end, it wasn’t the “should’ve been there” show that some speculated, but rather having 3000 less people inside certainly opened up more room to dance and cut the line to any service those inside needed. The sound was superb and it is always amazing to hear the band reverberate over such a vast space with no echo or feedback, with crystal clarity, and from any position in the place. Kuroda’s light work was mesmerizing, dizzying, and just plain fun. As far as Dick’s go, the staff are incredibly warm and genuine and the facility is clean, well kept, and a ridiculously great place to see a show on this level. The band speaks for themselves night after night, and this opening evening was no different, and although it wasn’t perfect, improvisation often isn’t. What was perfect was the sum of parts, the feelings incurred, and the release into the moment when your favorite band walks out on stage to the collective unknown and holds the undivided attention of thousands and fills the inner with an outer space full of promise, joy, energy, and light.

Check out more photos from the show.

Tuesday, Roger Waters brought his This Is Not A Drill tour to the Mile High City and gave the 19,000 in attendance just what they were looking for: two sets of amazing music, eye candy, epiphanies, and floating farm animals. Covering material that spanned his career, including deep cuts from Pink Floyd and solo material, the man who turned 79 during the show certainly did not show his age as he moved with intent about the expansive stage throughout the evening, switched instruments multiple times, and even went through some wardrobe changes. His band was incredibly well-rehearsed and the sound was impeccable no matter if one was in the front row or in the nosebleed seating. The 200-ton monolithic stage set up was a marvel in and of itself and made Arthur C. Clarke’s look like a miniature. Standing multiple stories high and appearing like an onyx pre-show, with the first notes of the evening, the display became alive, played like a television for gods, and was integral to the message and experience that has been the centerpiece of this tour.

Although the setlist hasn’t changed from one venue to the next, one has to think of the phrase “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” and certainly everyone within sight was singing along, smiling, waving their hands in the air, and talking joyously about the show on the way out, signifying that what was delivered was nothing short of quality.  One noticeable difference that set this evening apart was Waters taking the moment to let the audience serenade the legendary bass player with “Happy Birthday”, which brought a genuine smile to the English gentleman’s face.

Although there have been complaints about the political nature of Waters’ presentation and many shows have even seen people walk out, the show itself was not as politically charged with rhetoric as one might expect. Certainly, there were graphic representations of atrocities, statements, and phrases projected on the awe-inspiring screens, but there was minimal soapboxing or anything that could be construed as Waters trying to sway others or be overbearing. In fact, the man was simply matter of fact, speaking truth to truths we all are already aware of and as any fan of Pink Floyd will tell you, The Wall has already been speaking to these dynamics since the 70’s. Ironically, when one thinks about the nature of rock and roll, an indigenous American element, it has often served to upset the status quo as not only a platform for the counterculture to openly call out social errors and terrors, but also as a vehicle to connect humans with the visceral, providing the opportunity to shake one’s money maker in spite of it being proper or not. If someone reports adoration for the electricity of live music, one has to accept its roots and what it stands for and God forgive anyone who is trying to hang the blame on Roger Waters for doing what so many great musicians have done, including Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, CSN, Bob Marley, Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson and probably every other performer who ever wrote a song about the little guy or injustice. Although some might argue that they paid for their ticket to escape the ills of society, the plight of the independent thinker is not to escape it, but to integrate and be the change always so that we acknowledge our role in life and our ability to affect it.

In closing, if one has the opportunity to catch this potentially final tour of this living legend, do it. Leave expectation at the door and honor the spirit of free thinking and being stimulated, even if it makes you feel uneasy. The point here seems not to be aimed at conversion, but to stoke the fires of conversation and heighten awareness of the self, the social, and that which are the catalysts between the two that spawns the final result, all the while set to some of the most iconic and amazing music ever produced. Finally, Roger, this hat is off to you for drawing the line, saying something, and not just wanting to preserve the fan base or revenue stream, but rather using your opportunity to speak out and speak up as a human being about things we can change. Happy Birthday, Mr. Waters, may you have many, many more to come!

Wednesday night, the power trio of funk, fire, and infamy Garage A Trois made the Aggie Theatre their first stop in Colorado and played to a crowd that were more than happy to step out for a night on the town midweek. For this trio of talent, Fort Collins would be the jumping off point for four straight nights split between FOCO, Denver, and Boulder and as anyone familiar with the group that tours so sporadically, having the potential to catch them this many nights in a row in such a small radius truly is a treat.

Taking the stage in matching jumpsuits adorned with tigers, toucans, and trees, the band opened the show with “Nothing But Trouble”, a bluesy jazz tune with plenty of punch. Skerik got first dibs at the solo and TORE IT UP! Thrusting and bobbing, this cat grabbed everyone’s attention and the room ponied right up for what he was selling. Charlie Hunter took the second slot and showed his agility and ridiculousness, managing both the bass line as well improvising over the top with a guitar lead, all produced from his eight-string wonder-strument. Stanton kept everyone in line and on time and even got a short solo before the other two jumped back in on the head.

“Cool Whip” got everyone moving in a dizzying tizzy. The upbeat funk got people moving and once the groove was established, Skerik hit them with a shredding solo, cutting fat lines and tweaking in the offbeat. Hunter flexed his wah, and twisted faces, both his own and the crowds, and once again proved his ability to get nasty. Moore showed off his prowess at the build, swelling and commanding of time itself.

At the close of the tune, with unfettered enthusiasm, Skerik proclaimed,”We just went back in the studio and that was a new song we made. We just made it for you Fort Collins! The first time we ever played it! Oh my God!!!”

Following an excited applause, Skerik introduced the band and kept the set rolling with the spacey and appropriately named “Wizard Sleeve”, a Charlie Hunter original off of his 2007 Mystico album. Although the original version is more upbeat, the delivery here was much truer to the magic of the title, filled with echoing sax, moaning, stretched, and slowed down while Hunter rode the bass and Moore hung back in the pocket.

The band lit up “Calm Down Cologne” and shifted the space entirely from the ethereal to the thunderous. This title track from their latest release, was packed with enough punch to intoxicate everyone in the room.

Chester Thompson’s “PowerHouse” returned the party to a groovy strut. Skerik took the room to the old school, Hunter got nimble to the nth degree, and Moore continued his role as the gelling goo holding it all together. The majority of attendees hung off every run, lick, and turn, and called out for more all the way through to the end. Skerik also turned to his effects, pulling the context from organic, to the celestial, and back again.

Continuing the covers, “Ramblin’” by Ornette Coleman was pulled as the next card and opened with a call and response between Hunter and Skerik while Moore filled the space between with tom rolls and cymbal stirrings. At the stop of the soupy opener, the major construct of the tune got going and continued the evening’s agility exercise. These three amigos laid this one with an incessant drive that showed the best of each of themselves and their commitment to the muse. This again was another take on the old school and would have drawn even the most pretentious of jazz aficionados into the GAT fold.

For the next three slots, the band pulled a trio of tunes from their 2003 Emphasizer album. At the trifecta onset-a, Skerik cried out, “Play the Nola!”, as the band plunged head first into “Plena for my Grundle”. This tune is sexy, spicey, and full of soul salsa. A few measures in and everyone in the room felt a bit suaver and slinkier and those who had come together got a little closer. Hunter led first and alternated seamlessly between the sensual guitar and the visceral bass. Like an old familiar flame, Skerik eventually stood in the spotlight and laid it out smooth and silky, filling the room with his own bit of the sultry while laying some skronk to it all and making it oh so tasty.

Keeping with the slick lick and following Skerik’s call out “C’mon Stanton, give it to them!” the band continued with “Gat Swamba”, and this one too like its predecessor, had sex appeal oozing out of every note. Hunter’s effect sounded more like atmospheric organ than guitar and Skerik’s hypnotic approach mesmerized the reptilian brain of the bystanders. Stanton shook out an incredible display mid-song and showed he and his instruments are as much about melody and intonation as his counterparts are.

“Sprung Monkey” made three and kept the funky monkey in all of us grooving and getting down. Hunter’s tremolo distortion and performance in and around the time of the song alongside his ear-to-ear grin showed everyone he was having as much fun as the rest of us dancing our asses off. Midway through, Skerik got down on his wah, hunched over under yellow and red lights and ripped a growling solo that realigned chakras and lifted the spirit.

“Serpico Waltz'' was a solid shredder with a reserved middle that served as a platform for some great original structures and another great Stanton Moore drum solo. The waltz moved directly into an unsettling end that felt like a whole different tune. The band played on it for only a few measures before coming to a dead stop, which added to the enigma of the section.

The band picked the groove up again and gave a lengthy upbeat intro to a bluesy cover of Little Milton’s “If Walls Could Talk”. Sung by Hunter and soul stirred by Skerik, this piece of music showed the talent of Hunter as a singer and simultaneous instrumentalist. Charlie gave out some significant scatting over the top of guitar phrasings to match, driving the intimate surroundings wild, and causing Skerik to note at the end, “Charlie Hunter everyone, playing three instruments!”

The Stanton Moore original “Tchfunkta” from his 1998 album All Kooked Out was the next selection and was played out in true Nawlins funk fashion. The sax shone bright on this one and Stanton stirred the soup so deliciously, everyone was asking for more. Moore also had a big breakdown in the middle, armed with a drumstick in one hand and tambourine in the other, he used the two accouterments to run circles all over that Gretsch kit and did it in such a way one had to question if that might have been the way drums were supposed to be played instead of with two sticks.

For the encore, the band did Chester Thompson justice once again with a cover of “Etienne”. The mellow groove was a slow burner and gave the band a last chance to dig in deep to more notes than one could count, but coalesce in a final big finish, before letting the ending play out in a quieter blues form, sending everyone off into the night with a smile and a giggle in their step.

There is no misspelling or miscommunication in the language of this three-headed creature. The joy in their musical execution goes hand and hand with the obvious jubilation they experience getting off together as well as with anyone who is in any room anywhere. It is apparent that they do what they do as much for themselves as those listening and would do it even if no one else was around. For this writer, this was my first time witnessing the GAT and all I can say is “Damn! What have so many been missing out on?” The live performance was well worth the price of admission and the vibe is nothing short of uplifting so if this trio of musical madmen of mayhem comes anywhere near, regardless of what day of the week it is, run don’t walk, and get tickets for you and five of your closest friends as none will regret spending their Tuesday getting the inspirational refill this band delivers.

For three decades, the Fox Theatre has been the site of some of the greatest musical performances ever and at a capacity of 625 people, anyone who has been lucky enough to score tickets to this intimate venue on those special nights has had their mind blown. Historically, The Fox has served as a welcoming stage for many up-and-coming artists and is often heralded by bands who have made it as one of the jumping off points in their careers that played predecessor to stardom and selling out venues with capacities in the tens of thousands. With incredible sound, unobstructed sight lines, a rainbow of colored lights, and a staff that just won’t quit, smiling effortlessly as they serve patrons, it is no wonder that Rolling Stone magazine once named this local’s locale as the “fourth best venue in the country”. If all these dynamics were not enough to tantalize the eye and ear of music appreciators everywhere, every once in a while, The Fox offers up a little something extra and somehow wrangles one of those famed artists who could never play a place so small again back into its rectangular room for one night that takes the how factor to the exponential end.

This past Saturday was one such night.

On August 9th, 1994, Gov’t Mule played its first show at The Fox and its seventh show ever and just a month into its inception, the group was already sending ripples through the southern jam community. Fronted by Warren Haynes of Allman Brothers notoriety at the time and backed by bass giant Allen Woody and thunderf#*k drummer Matt Abts, the group’s sound, drive, and unrelenting ideal almost leveled the place. Alas, an experience such as this puts some in fear, but for this harmonic hall, it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Receiving such a warm welcome, Warren, Woody and Abts would continue to play the tiny barroom and returned for notable and remarkable gigs in 1997, 1998, 1999, 2003, and then one last night in February of 2005. Since that time, fans have been asking, if not begging, for the group to bring their best back and finally after 17 years, the band finally obliged.

As part of the venue’s 30th anniversary celebration, Gov’t Mule returned September 17th to a sold-out house and gave the fans what they had been asking for: two sets and almost three hours of music that took the room through time and space to the early days of the equine madness. As if this aspect was not enough for the most serious of Mule fans, the crowd got treated to a setlist composed almost completely of favorites that predated the year 2000 as well as a number of rarities and some that hadn’t been performed in years.

The band entered the stage at half past seven to a raucous crowd, wide-eyed and ecstatic, pinching each other as the dream began. Haynes stepped to the mic and started the evening with an unaccompanied, acapella verse of Son House’s “Grinnin’ in Your Face”, an obvious nod to the joy Haynes must have seen from his vantage point. Without a pause, the band started up its anthem “Mule” and the room lost its marbles. The pull of the field beast got everyone moving and the group wasted no time getting into the jam. Setting the structure, Danny Louis laid out a funky organ lick and everyone followed. Haynes threw in an early “Eleanor Rigby” tease and Jorgen Carlsson rolled out flowing low notes behind dark sunglasses and a cheshire grin. Matt Abts, at almost seventy years young, showed that time was still on his side, and he was commanding every moment coming his way.

The slow strut of “Temporary Saint'' was next, and the narrator pedaled his position, explaining his conundrum and asking for soul salvation. Haynes’ solo was filled with angst and pull, Louis’ hammond action filled the room, and Abts and Carlsson held it all together. At it tension filled apex, the group shifted from the gutter to the ethereal light of “Dolphineus”, the first played since 2019. With a distinctly middle eastern setup, the instrumental eventually gave way to the melancholy of “Painted Silver Light”, a tale of life between beauty and the madness of love. The construct itself twists and turns much the same as the verse, shifting musically between calm and the abrasive all the while Haynes’ belting out the lyrics as if it were a song written yesterday, filled with fresh conviction and controversy.

“Trane” came out of the discourse of “Painted Silver Light’s” end and began with a jazz groove and a bass initiation that showed that this Mule ain’t no one trick pony. A few measures in, Haynes took over and just started shredding it up as Danny left the keys and donned a second guitar, instigating a call and response that eventually transitioned into the power of Link Rayman’s “Rumble”. Carlsson continued to walk that bass all over the place as Abts tipped that high hat to everyone in the room, beaming from behind the kit like a kid in a candy store, doing what he loves most.

“Rocking Horse” kicked off with a short but sweet tom solo from Abts and received the appropriate accolades from the audience. This rocker kept the place rolling and for anyone who can’t get enough of that Leslie sound, this was ten minutes of pure visceral bliss. Getting deep in the grit, even Haynes had his eyes closed, face twisted, and was getting off on what he was serving us all. Although this was played for the first time in 2022, it was undeniably on target, fresh, and tight, displaying no signs of being shelved for any period of time.

Without a breath or break, the fans were getting what they asked for as at this point, the band had been playing without pause for more than forty-five minutes when they continued the endless run with a thick “Monkey Hill”. At its close, this would be the first time the band would stop, catch their breath and exchange raised eyebrows and toasted glasses with each other. Haynes also stepped to the mic and belted out, “Thank You!”, reciprocating the enthusiasm the crowd has been gushing with since note one.

Maybe sensing the infused joy and feeling that each of us carried at this point, Haynes produced the coda of “Grinnin’ in Your Face” that had started the show, seemingly in a way to honor the wake of climatic emotion all the beaming souls had just been showered with. Singing alone, the vocal talent of this bluesman is undeniable and it is clear that his existence is intertwined with the aural muse.

Pulling from an unending evident well of energy, the group ventured on, twisting out another blues tickler in Memphis Slims’ “Mother Earth”. Like the blue-green goddess, this one was filled with the volcanic passion of creation itself, measure after crescendoing measure while also swinging the spectrum to delicate sensibilities. With a quiet organ breakdown that eventually led to many reverent moments of the spiritual, we all got taken to the church of mother nature and at fourteen minutes, we all drank deeply from her gospel.

To close out the first half of the evening, Grand Funk Railroad’s “Sins of a Good Man’s Brother” was the tune of choice. This one has been a rarity in the Mule setlists, performed only a handful of times since 2002. With its Hendrix-esque “Foxy Lady” feel, this one reached the heights in its meteoric rise but gave it all it had in four minutes before sending the crowd off to break.

Between sets, it became very apparent that The Fox was FULL! It took several minutes for concertgoers to dissipate enough to the bathroom, bars, and even outside to create enough elbow room to breathe and connect with acquaintances noticed from afar in the tight quarters. Nary a straight face was viewed, and all were talking about the spectacle witnessed. Many speculated what the rest of the evening would hold and soon all would be revealed.

Set two opened with “Raven Black Night” and received a huge applause as the avian rarity hadn’t been played since April 27, 2018, and only five times since 2016. This dark rifted bird floated on the wispy fills of its four purveyors and as it climbed through evening starlight, the crowd swayed and hung on every word, every note.

Mule staple “Larger Than Life” followed and had the audience once again throwing fists to the air as Jorgen and Warren drove the hard edge of it all, Warren fanning his guitar and the flames of this incendiary machine while Jorgen ran up and down the long neck of the low end. Danny swelled with the Leslie and the B3, while Matt chopped it up. On a dime, the band stopped, dropped, and rolled into Hendrix’s “If 6 Were 9” as per the usual, but there was nothing standard about this version and had the band and the audience grimacing at the gritty goodness. The Hendrix cover was played to perfection and was as if Haynes was channeling the heavenly legend himself for the good people and the only thing missing was someone, anyone, throwing a guitar to the ground and setting it on fire. The larger-than-life aural delicacy clocked in at nearly sixteen minutes and when that sandwich was done, every belly was full.

Riding the larger-than-life energy, Haynes and Company kept the mashups coming and put on their “Game Face”. The first half kept the sweat pouring and faces glowing, Warren’s jaw hanging open as he delivered blow after blow of what the Mule is all about. The tune eventually slowed, and Danny let the music breathe with some warm keys. Warren laid a watery effect over the top, and as the middle calmed, the brothers eventually hit the “Mountain Jam” filling, sending a shockwave of delight throughout the floor. Although this combination is a standard in the Mule setlists, it certainly was something special seeing it played knowing that the foot of the majestic Rocky Mountains were just outside the venue’s front door. The band eventually picked up steam again and Danny ran down the road with a honkytonk stomp as the other three chased him.

Giving everyone a chance to recover, Warren slipped into the calming ballad “Towering Fool”. Keeping with the theme of giving it up to the lucky few inside, this version would be the first time this rarity would be pulled out by the band since 2014. Its soul was not worn and shown like a vibrant memory, full of color and vision, and gave everyone pause at its short but sweet life, another moment in this evening well lived.

“No Need to Suffer” continued the melancholy virtue, Warren delivering heartfelt lyrics over the wide structure and playing on the space with reverb and echo. In the middle of this, Jorgen hypnotized the audience and sparked the slow burn that would drive the ending vertex, bringing the whole to climax that can only be described as pure, ear-gasmic bliss.

Abts transitioned into a jazzy shuffle, and everyone followed suit, segueing nicely into “Birth of the Mule”. This one took on many forms, from high octane rocker to plasmatic soundscape, but no matter what state of matter it was in, it was masterful and tight. Another great bass solo had the crowd hollering for more. Abts gave over to his best Max Roach, hammering out his organized chaos and grinning from ear to ear. At the tune’s close, the band even threw in a tease of “Les Brers in A Minor”.

Before moving into the set closer “Blind Man in the Dark”, the band laid out multiple measures of Frank Zappa’s “Pygmy Twylyte”, the fluid foursome delivering this end piece with more than enough fuel in the tank to make this finale on point and memorable. Haynes put to good work his talk box for this punchy number and even after multiple hours and balls to the wall playing, the quartet delivered every note as though it was their first: full, loud, and f#$king proud! After thanking the crowd repeatedly, Haynes appropriately stated, “It’s like Deja Vu all over again. Thank you so much. This has been a beautiful night.”

Leaving the stage for only a moment, the fab four returned to their respective positions and hung their hat on the evening with the bittersweet piece “Tastes Like Wine”. Although some might have expected another over-the-top selection to send everyone out into the night, this spectral composition was quiet and reflective and showed the talent of the band to play with as much excellence in the spaces between as they do fill every moment in many others in their canon.

In the end, between the setlist piled up with early tunes and their ridiculous execution, brimming with absolute electricity, fervor, and perfection, the audience got more than they had bargained for and had the opportunity to live the waking dream that may not ever happen again. God bless you Warren, Matt, Danny, Jorgen! What you made on Saturday is the stuff of legend and was the type of show that will leave us all talking about where we were in September of 2022 and fuel the chase inside us music lovers to catch those notes that keep us coming back for more. Justice would not be served if we did not also thank The Fox Theatre for taking chances, keeping the doors open, and being a place where the line between reality and illusion are often blurred, where dreams manifest themselves, and where the unexpected is the expectation.

Last week, Pearl Jam made the Mile High City their final stop on the North American portion of their 2022 Gigaton tour and gave the sold-out crowd everything they expected and more. Being their first tour since 2018, anticipations for the Ball Arena finale were high and the best of the Northwest sealed the deal with a lengthy single set and a six-song encore, leaving devout Pearl Jam fans smiling, energized, and even more committed to the band and wondering when the next tour would be announced. Selections for the night consisted of classic radio hits, deep cuts, and a multitude of covers, all of which made this closing show worth the price of admission and then some. With nearly two and a half hours of music, the group sounded fresh, well composed, and showed no signs of being road weary, giving it their all from start to finish as the crowd just cried out for more.

As Cat Power’s “The Greatest” played over the PA, the lights finally dropped, and the band took the stage under a unified deafening roar of applause. Wide smiled and beaming, the members took seated positions, waved to the crowd, and got the night started with “The Long Road”, an appropriate opener for the parting night. “Elderly Woman” filled the second slot and encouraged by frontman Eddie Vedder, the audience joined in on this sing-along.

Vedder addressed the audience, stating “We have been waiting more than two years to say this: Nice to see you Colorado!”, eliciting an eruption that dwarfed the welcome the band got at the walk on. This acknowledgement and reaction made everyone in the band smile humbly as they took a moment to look about at the 19,000 faces cheering them on. Vedder continued,” As this city is pretty high, we are going to take it easy and stay seated for a few more to get acclimated”, inciting another rise from listeners, many of whom read a tongue-in-cheek cannabis reference in the word choice from the frontman.

Uber-rarity “Thin Air” was up next. This number played only 5 times since 2016 was short, soft, and checked the song search box for many superfans this night. Continuing to deliver on the specialness of the eve, “Just Breathe” was played next as the only version for 2022. Eddie dedicated this version to a couple in the audience who had become engaged in front of him some six weeks prior. Accompanied only by Boom Gaspar on the keys, this one brought out many a tear and emotional looks from those sharing a night out with their committed.

Tour regular “Present Tense” shook the melancholy off and put the band and audience into overdrive, the two taking to their feet for this powerful selection. Great guitar by Mike McCready accentuated this one and was the jumping off point for a distinctive change in energy for the foreseeable future.

The first cover of the night came from the Pink Floyd catalog in “Interstellar Overdrive” and although it has been a tour regular this year, this fact did not diminish the welcome it got. The edgy instrumental transitioned seamlessly into the band’s standard pairing “Corduroy” and widespread fist pumping, head bobbing, and singing could be seen throughout the whole house during this back-to-back adrenaline filled shredfest.

Raising the energy bar even higher, the fast tempo of “Spin the Black Circle” came next and had most of the band running around the stage and posturing under strobe lights, disorienting feedback, and speed.

Another regular in the rotation, Neil Young’s “Throw Your Hatred Down” was played almost flawlessly. Somewhere mid-song, the crowd in the front few rows drew Eddie’s attention, prompting the singer to stop the show and request EMS to the front, as a fan had collapsed under the proximity constraint and sweat of the front row. As the man got to his feet, Eddie assured the crowd that he just needed some water and would return. Wishing the departed well, Vedder counted off and fired up where the group had departed and finished the song.

Although “Given To Fly” has been played almost every show this year, this one was no less special than the expectation. The joy it brought with its infectious groove, punch power, and another opportunity for the audience contribution kept everyone engaged in the energy high.

As this was the Gigaton tour originally scheduled for 2020 to celebrate the band’s most recent studio creation of the same name, relative newcomer from the album “Who Ever Said” got a shower of applause and most seemed familiar with the gritty number with a good hook and kept everyone dancing as Vedder jumped off various stage platforms, infusing the crowd with even more energy.

Classic PJ form, “Evenflow” had everyone singing and prompted Vedder to point his mic towards the audience throughout. He often muted himself for the various “heys” and “whoas” in the song, giving spotlight to those in the seats. McCready dazzled the audience with an extensive solo performed with his ax behind his head for multiple minutes before continuing to melt faces with distortion, feedback, and just the right amount of insanity, making this one certainly a highlight for everyone.

“Dance of the Clairvoyants”, another track off Gigaton, has a pop feel with a great synth vibe. This great dance number, part new wave, part punk, is like 80’s Kate Bush meets David Byrne meets Pearl Jam and has a three-way love child of creativity. This is certainly one with legs for miles and a mind to match.

As the rest of the band took a breather, impeccable drummer Matt Cameron and Vedder remained. As Vedder took his seat at the band’s touring pump organ, he uttered words about the atrocities of the Ukraine and cried out for everyone to open their eyes and hearts to each other, to realize that war is never the answer. The audience acknowledged the message, reciprocated in emotive agreement, and bathed the arena in cell phone glow as a sign of unification with our fellow humans. With this, the duo pulled another Gigaton track for the night in “River Cross”. This contemplative piece filled the room with volume and power, although deriving it more from the visceral and emotional than the electric and amplified.

Relative rarity “Save You” came off the shelf and got the recognition it deserved. Only played three times this year and only twelve times since 2015, this one came out in perfect juxtaposition to its predecessor and had everyone bouncing again.

Radio hit “Betterman” had everyone joining in on the lyrics and once again instilling pause in the singer’s vocals, letting the fans take over the well-known and beloved number. This one saw extended soloing from Gossard, Vedder, and McCready and ended with a big finish that had everyone in The Ball reeling and high fiving each other, stranger and well-known alike.

The 1962 classic “Last Kiss” by Wayne Cochran followed and had the room singing and clapping along once again. This one has been in the PJ setlist since 1998, but has become more infrequent in recent years, this version being the third of the tour. Short, sweet, and fun, it is clear that the band enjoys performing this one and seemed appropriate for the “last kiss” of the tour.

The rarities continued with “Faithful”. After Being shelved since 2016 and with only three versions this year, its performance re-edified the fact that the band was making their mark on this night as a memorable and historic one, and seemingly once again were using a song to directly remark on the “faithful” audience that keeps showing up wherever they are, no matter where they are, to be a part of the unending revolving tour of this talent.

Cranking up the heat and electricity, “Lukin” turned the crowd back towards the hard edge and although the night was getting closer to its close, everyone showed they still had plenty of steam and time to throw in with the seven headed beast eviscerating their expectations and sharing their souls.

To close the set, “Rearview Mirror” took the audience on its standard winding trek with its soaring highways and meandering backroads. Taking in both thick traffic jams as well as breaking free to quiet horizons, this version was unhurried and when it reached its destination, everyone on the trip knew we had arrived.

Following a short exit, Vedder returned solo and thanked the crowd for helping to create another memory and for their choral contribution. He also took time to address different members of the audience, noting their signs, t-shirts, and internet posts prior to showtime, showing once again that the band after all these years remains quite intertwined and affected by their loyal following and can make an gargantuan arena show feel more like an intimate living room. Continuing to speak to the afflictions of living and the inspirations in light of dying, Vedder appropriately chose Tom Petty’s “ I Won’t Back Down” to inspire the opening of the encore slot.

Played for only the second time of the year and the fifth in six years, Mother Love Bone’s cover “Chloe Dancer / Crown of Thorns” had the room swaying and hanging on Vedder’s voicings. The structure hung strong in space and this exception sounded as fresh as if the band had written it themselves or been performing it night after night for years.

Fan favorite and classic “Alive” brought everyone back on line and noticeably raised the energy and temperature multiple degrees, giving all another last chance at losing their marbles in guitar distortion, strobed tempo, and frenetic movement, a practice everyone listening were ready and willing to engage in.

The final cover of the night took form in The Who’s “Baba O’Riley” and the band welcomed the band Thunderpussy to join them on stage. As the group thanked everyone for a great tour, career, and more memories than one can count, the infectious and familiar form ensnared back into the groove and elevated the spirit surround to dizzying heights and infected the room with a group smile that would not soon be forgotten.

Closing this date on an old familiar note, the evening’s final selection “Yellow Ledbetter” set the room nostalgic and comforted, even in the bittersweet realization that when the beloved band would be seen again was uncertain, a fact iterated earlier in the set by Vedder himself.

Honorable mention goes to the low end for this one. Pearl Jam would not be who they are without the depth that is Jeff Ament. His quaking bass lines and melodic creativity put him as a who is who in the bass field. This man displays as much energy on stage as any front man or lead guitarist and has no reservations about getting up in the grill of his counterparts to egg them on to the edge of ecstasy. With an infectious smile to counterbalance his gruff appearance, the man shows what it means to have the time of your life.

Although there are no Pearl Jam shows on the books for the upcoming year, anyone who has attended their events knows it won’t be too long until something happens. There is truly too much love for the performance from both sides of the stage, too much history for the PJ family, and too much need for their conscious positivity they bring to keep these gentlemen sitting for too long.

Monday night, rock icons Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend returned to Denver with their latest incarnation of The Who and wowed the Ball Arena from start to finish on the final stretch of The Who Hits Back tour. Supported by a 42-piece orchestra, listeners got an ear full that captured the in-your-face sound that has been throttling audiences for nearly six decades. Expectations were high as Daltrey and Townsend had once again enlisted exceptional talent to deliver their beloved and celebrated rock anthems, including top notch guitar talent Simon Townsend, drummer extraordinaire Zak Starkey, session guru Jon Button on bass, vocalist Billy Nichols, and Loren Gold and Emily Marshall on keyboard and piano.

Conducted by Keith Levenson, the orchestral component of the evening bookended the twenty-one-song single set, performing on a number of tracks from the band’s legendary rock operas Tommy and Quadrophenia. Fitting nicely in the middle of the symphonious sandwich, the mid-section of the evening saw the departure of the orchestra and featured fan favorites and cuts from various albums that resulted in numerous moments of audience participation, as everyone inside the ship achieved lift off amidst the raw, pared down sound of the core configuration.

The show promptly got started at half past 7pm with an upbeat performance by Mike Campbell and The Dirty Knobs. Being a heavy contributor and collaborator to Tom Petty for nearly fifty years, Campbell’s walk-on reception was loud enough to easily see that much of the crowd was there to see his talent as much as they were the headliner. Although short, his band’s set was sweet to say the least and showcased many of The Heartbreakers tunes he penned or contributed to during his time with Petty. It was great to see this opener get the recognition they deserve and that many of the seats were filled prior to their start.

At a quarter to nine, the main event had arrived, and the crowd took to their feet in raucous applause to welcome The Who. The set started with Townshend welcoming everyone:

“So….we finally found you! 1,000 miles from f*$king anywhere! But it was worth looking for you and finding you. Good to be here. Welcome, thanks for coming. Thanks to Mike Campbell and his band, making a nuisance of themselves. Prepare because we start a little slowly before we reach that kind of tempo.”

With a belly full of laughter, the audience strapped in. The first notes of the full orchestra performing “Overture” from Tommy hit the audience in radiance and grabbed everyone by their inner attention, heralding all eyes and ears stageward. With pristine sound for such a large arena, the conglomerate talent continued to deliver on the tale of the deaf, dumb, and blind boy with “1921”, “Amazing Journey”, “Sparks”, “Pinball Wizard”, and “We’re Not Gonna Take It”. For the deep Who fan, getting to hear these tracks in this format took the level of these cherished numbers to a whole new level. The strings severed, the vocal accompaniment called to the heavens, the horns rang out in triumph, all anchored by the gritty rock cornerstone at its center. Movement one concluded with great takes on “Who Are You?”, “Eminence Front”, and relative newcomer “Ball and Chain” from The Who’s 2019 studio album Who.

As the orchestra departed the stage, Townshend joked once again:

“The orchestra is taking a break. You know, they start very early in the day, starting about 6 o’clock in the morning, rehearsing all this rock and roll music. They are great musicians, all great people. They are all from this neighborhood. They are all great mountaineers. They all know how to get a diesel truck over the mountains.”

“You Better You Bet” was up first and it was great to hear that the band had it all together without the accompaniment. “The Seeker” followed and kept the energy rolling high. The piano accents played nicely against the Townshend twins feedback and had the oval swelling. Daltrey belted it out like a man on a mission. The soulful stare of “Naked Eye” gazed upon the heart of everyone in the round and showed the stage talent’s ability to lay out it slow and sweet as well as they do cranking it to eleven. “Another Tricky Day” brought everyone back on line with its punchy accents and upbeat tempo.

Following a long pause, a singular familiar chord shook the walls of the hall as Townshend rang out the opening familiar rift of “Won’t Get Fooled Again”, sending the crowd into a frenzy. The delivery was what one would expect: electric, gnarled, eargasmic. Daltrey’s primal scream at the tune’s apex hit the spirit animal of everyone in that room and the place just exploded.

In perfect counterpoint, Daltrey brought “lead violinist and librarian” Katie Jacoby, cellist Audrey Snyder, and Randy Landau on upright bass to envelope the audience in the emotional tune “Behind Blue Eyes”. With Townshend on acoustic, the stringed serenade added another layer of penetrating melancholy that seemingly stretched time and conjured wishful thinking that the moment would never end.

At its close, the orchestra returned, and the many-headed beast wasted no time jumping headfirst into the Quadrophenia portion of the program, launching right into “The Real Me”. Jon Button seemed possessed by Entwhistle himself as he belted out those familiar bass lines of old. “I’m One” was strong and continued the evening-long wow the audience had been experiencing from the start. “5:15” upped the ante and delivered great thunder via Starkey’s thick tom work while the brass shone loud and clear. This number was certainly a highlight as it got the improvisational treatment and stretched out at nearly 8 minutes. Great guitar interplay between Simon and his brother Pete here as well. “The Rock” was performed with its monolithic power, strong and solid, rising above the crowd in grandeur. “Love, Reign O’er Me” started with a long piano intro and had a slow burn to its dizzying apical inferno, leaving only ashes and smiles in its wake.

Before capping off the night, Townshend graciously took the time to introduce the majority of players on the stage for the evening, each receiving a well-earned standing ovation from the audience. With one more in the tank, the group made good with a legendary performance of “Baba O’Riley”. The pulse and surge ebbed and flowed, and spotlighted Jacoby center stage, having relinquished her first chair for a standing performance as she incorporated a jig while shredding the heck out of the neck of that fiddle at a blistering speed as the band and audience stared in awe, the librarian having the final note.

Although the group has been using a relatively standard setlist for most gigs on the tour, this aspect certainly did not detract from the performance. Both Roger and Pete displayed the moves that have contributed to their infamy, Daltrey swinging his mic to the rafters like a mad pendulum as Townshend windmilled his way through power chords, both spectacles driving those in attendance to their feet and out of their minds. At the close of yet another great performance by the band that just will not quit, patrons got treated to more than two hours of great rock and roll, energy, and a head full of memories that won’t soon be forgotten. Neither of the founding members demonstrated any signs of slowing and the execution maintained the same level of prowess until the last note. Daltrey’s vocals were on point all the way through and Townshend shone with an inner youth that reflected he is still loving every moment of this lifelong endeavor. For anyone who has ever been a fan of this band, it looks like we get to keep them around for a bit longer so make sure to get out and see them because you never know when it might come to an end.

Check out more photos from the show.

The Ogden Theatre is a 1600 capacity venue in the Capitol Hill district of Denver and although its surroundings leave much to be desired, the place still brings out the magic for those who enter its historic doors. Originally opened in 1917, it got it start as did many theaters of that era as a movie house and a locale for vaudeville performances. Cinema was its main draw for decades until its almost unfortunate end in the early 90’s, when it was slotted to be demolished. Luckily for concert patrons, it was saved and converted to the notable music venue it is today, hosting many mid-level bands on their way to success and intimate shows of those at the top looking for the opportunity to play to the smaller crowd on a special night. October 20th was one such evening.

On Thursday, fans of the jam had the rare opportunity to catch one of the latest formations put together by amaza-bassist Oteil Burbridge and the result was nothing short of spectacular. Billed as Oteil and Friends, the group consisted of guitar wizard Steve Kimock, southern shred Duane Betts, organ maestro “The Reverend” Melvin Seals, soul singer Lamar Williams Jr., and powerhouse drummer Johnny Morgan Kimock, and although the supergroup dynamic can often come off as unrehearsed, this outing was tight, magical, and full of the fire that everyone in the house hoped for.

Arriving at about half past six with a seven o’clock door time, the box office reported that there were still plenty of tickets to be had. This aspect made one wonder if this would be one of those shows that was terribly undersold, which in light of the players, would have been a travesty of afterthought and a lack of motivation by the Mile High City. For those holding the dream of the rail and initiating the line out front earlier that afternoon, they could have cared less how many tickets were sold as they were pumped and ready to have their minds blown and more musical memories made. Doors opened and smiling face after smiling face flowed in through the tiny lobby and made for the stools of the balcony or the front row, there being a noticeable distinction between the two that seemed to be age related.

As the minutes passed, the influx of fans remained constant and when the published start time had arrived, the Ogden was ninety percent or more filled with people sharing stories, hopeful anticipations, and good vibes all around. The vacant stage was bathed in deep purple light and the smoke machines were running in overtime and when the house music finally fell silent, the all-too-ready audience filled the place with a warm welcome as the band entered from stage right.

“HOW YOU GUYS DOING?”, queried Oteil, who was quickly met with a short burst of excitement.

Bringing everything on line with a meandering tuning jam, the first set got started with the sweet groove of “No More Doubt”. Originally penned by Paul Henson and released on the 2005 Oteil and The Peacemakers’ album Believer, this one certainly seemed to be made for Steve, the bearded musical giant wasting no time taking flight over the structure. Oteil commanded the guttural vocals and at the midsection, Duane tore through his solo like a maniac, all the while maintaining his deadpan stare, letting his fingers convey all the emotion. This tune showed the range of the conglomerate early on, as the piece shifts from funky groove to punchy rock and roll to a jazz format, all of which came off without a hitch.

Following the soul inferno closer of the opener, the band transitioned without pause into Gregg Allman’s “Dreams”. With the familiar opening notes initiated, Lamar Williams, Jr. strolled onstage, grinning and dressed to the nines. His vocal offering was spot on and could be easily described as channelling Gregg himself from the afterlife: raspy, powerful, intoxicating. Twenty-two minutes later and at the close of the two song opener, everyone knew we were in for a great night.

Taking a moment to introduce Lamar, the band turned it on again with the Little Milton original and JGB cover “That’s What Love Will Make You Do”. Melvin’s voice and fingers took the helm on this one and the organ solo certainly turned this Thursday into a Sunday, as he employed the Leslie grind to wash the audience free of their sins and fill them with reverberating swirls of joy and baptism by fire. Hitting the second stanza, Melvin encouraged the audience who had already been singing along to join in, letting the masses take over the lyrical duties as he just sat back and scanned the room. Closing with the classic big finish, Melvin smiled widely out over the crowd from behind his reflective shades, appreciating the accompaniment.

Oteil chimed in,”The Reverend Melvin!”

Translated as “The Brothers” from French, “Les Brers in A Minor” shifted the energy into an upward spiral and got the whole room moving. Originally penned by Dickey Betts, Duane did this one justice and would certainly have made his dad proud. The upbeat tempo and numerous changes make this one a sprint as well as a marathon and the friends ran it through to the end.

Slowing things a bit, the Nix and Penn Memphis soul tune “Like a Road” was the next one up. Oteil preached as Melvin’s organ put patrons back into the pews with this spiritual selection. The delivery was heartfelt, genuine, and reflected once again that Oteil is just as talented vocally as he is in instrumentation. Steve and Duane traded accents as Melvin towed the line of the frame, all of it blending oh so well and reminding those old enough of the good ol’ days of seeing the Jerry Garcia Band live.

Digging into the Allman Brothers canon again, “Come and Go Blues” brought Lamar back to center stage to give another expert reading. Whereas Melvin’s talent dominated “Like a Road”, this one was full throttle guitars, Steve, Duane, and Oteil giving it over to all things stringed. The vocal portion of the music plodded along in its simple score, but hitting the instrumental middle, the tune took an octave change and the piece and the room began to rise. Portions of this song carry a similar progression to the Mind Left Body Jam of Grateful Dead yore and made this fan hopeful that the group would take it in that direction, but alas, all they did was melt faces and destroy expectations as Steve and Duane took turns making Oteil peer down each end of the stage with a smile as wide as the stage itself, dancing in place and getting giddy.

To close the set, the band kept the energy high and left everyone up on the good foot with Bobby “Blue” Bland’s “Turn On Your Lovelight”. Oteil held vocal command here with the audience getting involved in many call and response moments. Johnny rumbled and exploded through this one and had everyone feeling his amorous illumination. Oteil threw out band intros mid-song and everyone inside was happy to recognize the friends with applause, whistling, and general deafening appreciation. Oteil took time to show off another dynamic of his talent, synching his uplifting spiritual scat with a stunning staccato of smoldering bass runs that just drove the room to the edge of ecstasy and elation.

Like the first set, set two started with a one-two punch, beginning with a southern turn in the opener “Hot ‘Lanta”. This Allman Brothers staple was in their repertoire since 1971, but strangely enough never appeared on a studio album. Melvin got first turn at the solo and infected it with his own flare, deviating tastefully from the standard delivery. Duane stepped right into the gap and pointed that rocket skyward and hit the afterburners. Steve turned to his pedals and got weird with it. The standard drum breakdown was anything but and Johnny shuffled and hit his way through it before counting back into the head without anyone missing a step. At the dissolution of the instrumental, everyone slipped into the upbeat tempo of Peter Rowan’s “Midnight Moonlight” and motivated many to join in with the dance party going on throughout the venue. Steve put the bluegrass infusion to good work and played the familiar piece with the metal slide, giving it that authentic twangy feel of Garcia’s interpretation with Old and In The Way. Melvin lit the room from the inside out with great organ work and kept the joy coming for both audience and performer alike.

The JGB favorite “Cats Down Under The Stars” took spot three and the band moved through the lyrics without interlude, saving it all for the explosive end. Kimock literally fanned the guitar inferno, lighting all eyes watching until this one ended in an ashen heap of emberous memory.

Dylan’s “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” was led by Melvin with Lamar and Oteil adding harmony. For these ears, Melvin’s vocal take sounded much like the inflection and meter that Bobby Weir often employs during his versions. Steve took the first solo and it was easy to feel the emotional connection to this piece that has served so many artists, stages, and sets as a point of contemplative reflection. Melvin’s solo was soft and bittersweet, tugging at the heart strings of everyone listening.

“Knockin’” transitioned into The Peacemaker track “Too Many Times” from the 2003 album The Family Secret. This one showcased the jazz side of Oteil, and this side was warmly received. The dark tune meandered from gentle to unsettling and was certainly regarded as one of the highlights of the night. Duane got edgy and gritty, bending over backwards almost as far as the notes he was buckling. Steve’s portion was more angular, and Johnny followed the patriarch into the spatial gap, tastefully shifting between accent and drive, copper, and skin. Melvin fueled the ambient while Oteil moaned through the murky depths, color, and light dancing in strands like the parts played. These thirteen minutes of aural delight seemed much, much longer.

Following what seemed like a technical difficulty going unnoticed by the audience or just an observation by Oteil, Oteil chimed in, “You know sometimes when the spirit takes hold, the equipment can’t take it. Don’t let them tell you spiritual things don’t affect things on the physical plane.”

Putting the pep back into the step, a great take on the Garcia / Hunter original “They Love Each Other” got everyone back to the dance floor. Duane hit this one as though he had been playing the GD number for a good long while. Melvin stepped to the plate and gave up a strong solo that carried so many elements to it. Steve shifted to the pedal steel, slowed it down, and blurted small splats of flare and accent to the delight of all. This version also got played in its original format, including a section of lyrics and a key change that were omitted from the Dead’s interpretation, as well as many others.

Dickey Betts’ “Blue Sky” was up next and was appropriately sang by Duane, making this the only song of the night that he would take on vocally. Duane took the first solo and worked the entirety of the guitar neck, leaving no note unplayed. The closing portion had Duane and Kimock synced up for the final climb and when the two reached the top of the mountain, the band dropped into “Franklin’s Tower” for the set closer. Steve circled back to the slide and alternated sections with Duane, the two turning on the theme like a double helix without end. Johnny kept it poppy while Oteil played off his straight rhythm in double time, clawing and clamoring up and down the frets like a myth on a mission.

Although there was no encore, everyone got two and half hours of first class playing by a group with an incredible heritage and connection to the modern jam world. Whether progeny or originator, the whole of this amalgam worked perfectly, was well worth the price of admission, and exceeded all expectations. The group was tight and made the playing sound and look all too easy and came off as fresh and innovative. The term friend is defined as a person with whom one knows and has a bond of mutual affection and as long as Oteil has friends like these, the world is certainly a better place.

Once again, the Denver weekend music scene paid off in spades, bringing a whole host of greatness to the Front Range as temperatures drop and events move inside. From three nights of Moe. at The Fox Theatre to Elton John’s final visit to the Mile High City, the metropolis that has everything delivered once again. Certainly, one of the most iconic guest appearances was the two-night, tour closer of Bobby Weir and Wolf Brothers. Playing at the state-of-the-art Mission Ballroom, Deadheads came from across the land to catch the outfit that has improved with time and has been on fire throughout this tour.

With clear skies, a nearly full moon rising over the venue, and forecasted temperatures in the 30’s, Friday’s scene outside the venue was well stocked with smiling faces, a rainbow array of tie-dye, and a great sense of community in the healthy line already formed multiple hours before showtime. Although the shows were sold-out, what was also pleasantly surprising was the limited number of fans with their fingers in the air looking for tickets, meaning that everyone there was getting in for the celebratory experience that happens when this circus is in town.

When the time had finally arrived, the full band walked onstage to an electric welcome coming from the nearly 4000 deadicated who were ready to vibe with whatever the band had in store. Getting right to it, the band started with a meandering, but focused and tight jam that hinted at “Bird Song” and “Dark Star'' at times, before taking it in a completely different direction and slapping everyone with a strong “Truckin’”. Coming in at the seventeen-minute mark, this got The Mission going and had many singing at the top of their lungs, especially when the lights were “all shinin’ on me”.

Continuing with the travelin’ on theme, “Truckin” dissolved into “Black Throated Wind”. Barry Sless caressed bended notes throughout this one as Weir delivered with his raspy vocals. Don Was with his mile-wide grin kept this one chunky as Jeff Chimenti threw in his flare. The elevating closer was filled with the punch of The Wolf Pack, Sheldon Brown shredding the sax as Weir belted out the final refrain.

Pausing for a moment and with the departure of The Wolf Pack, tour staple “Brown Eyed Women” was up next and everyone in the room was happy to sing along. Sless gave this a great pedal steel western flare. The country dynamic continued at its close with a follow up in Marty Robbins’ “El Paso”. Strapping on the acoustic, Weir held down the rhythm, while Sless charged the intermittent solos, all the while Jay Lane splashed and snapped away behind the kit. The level vacillated, quieting and swelling with perfection, everyone listening with ears wide open.

The quartet continued on in another tour regular with “Queen Jane Approximately”. Chimenti was given a great opportunity to solo and his heart-felt delivery was not squandered in the least. Even with its seemingly endless stanzas of lyrics, Weir was able to recall them all with confidence and proved once again that age is just a state of mind and this one is sharp as a tack.

With the return of The Wolf Pack and for only the second time ever, “Lazy River Road” got some air time. This truly was a delight and was produced without hurry, the room floating along taking in the lyrical scenery bathed in blue and white light. Chimenti’s lengthy solo got it just earnings, listeners cheering him on at the final twinkle of his roll. The alternating string of Mads Tolling and Alex Kelly gave the tune a whole other level and had this listener realizing how bare and raw the original renditions were compared to this. Weir even incorporated a great upbeat change in the tempo when the song hits the railroad line “bright blue boxcars….”, mimicking the rollicking sound and feel of the iron horse heading westward. Closing at twelve minutes, if you weren’t smiling, you weren’t listening. The emotion of this one certainly had many thinking that Jerry would have been proud of how his piece had been arranged and performed.

Certainly, one of the big treats of any tour is the bustout and that is what The Mission got next in Bob Dylan’s “Maggie’s Farm”. Not only being the tour debut, but also the second time ever performed by this ensemble since 2020, the hoots and hollers for this famous locale carried through much of the intro. The different arrangement of this one left many scratching their heads as to what was being played until Weir started up the first set of lyrics. Performed with a moody, blues shuffle, the band took their time with it through to the end. Punchy and bold, the house trotted along under red light while Weir spilled out the words in a sultry fashion, adding his metallic angular expectation throughout. Regardless of age, anyone who knows Weir’s history with lyrics knows that there is always a potential for flaw and this long-worded piece showed this dynamic for the first time of the night. When referring to the stanza about “Maggie’s Pa….”, Weir drew a blank, and threw out a “F*CK!” instead, as the band and fans laughed, Weir smiling all the while. In perfect opposition to the mistake, Sheldon Brown took the opportunity to quell any thought that the tune or evening were going to come off the rails, nailing a searing sax solo that kept everyone moving and celebrating. In the end, with the amount of lyrics of this piece and the infrequent performances of it, the fact that Weir nailed 99% is more than incredible and just shows what a treasure he is.

“Cassidy” was the set closing choice. At the jam break, Mads Tolling took flight with the sea birds, carving an uninhibited solo that just kept the energy climbing while the rest of the stage held on. Sless took over next, employing the wah, joined by Brown’s sax, the two alternating back and forth, as the feel shifted into dark country. Tolling jumped back into the mix, distressed and undressed, giving over to the fervor as the gnarl turned in on itself until it seemed it could go nowhere else, finally breaking free above the disorienting aural cloud only to meet up with the bright of sunlight as the tune returned to its warm structure. With the final notes played, Weir stated” We’ll be back in just a short bit. You all hang loose.”

For set two, the trio of Weir, Was, and Lane returned to the stage for the Weir / Wasserman classic “The Winners”. Short, sweet, and well done, those fans long in the tooth certainly appreciated hearing an older number from Weir’s non-dead canon. Taking a moment to get the rest of the outfit back in place, the whole band started up the Memphis Jug Band cover “Stealin’”. This relative newcomer to the lobo lore, played one twice thus far, gave Trombonist Adam Theis the opportunity to take a pronounced solo and show that the bone takes the backseat to no instrument.

Fans of the Grateful Dead have long come to expect the second set to be the main sustenance of the show, filled with the juicy goodness where legend and fable are born and reality is set on tilt and following the opening tunes, this is where Friday really lifted off. Starting with Lane’s rattling symbols, Weir accented, and the rest of the players fell in one by one, circling the loose groove that would eventually morph into a seventeen minute “Dark Star”.

Shifting and snaking through the room, this one had it all: the light delicate sensibility coupled with the dark dissonance that tickles the musical primal bone of the soul. Seven minutes in, the joy of unease settled in and reached its first peak before Weir anchored everyone back into comfort with the first verse, graciously accepted by the souls taking it all in. At twelve and half minutes, the band was just scaring the children in that great kind of way that is disorienting as you realize you are in one of the safest places on the planet, many patrons looking around at each other with broad grins, raised eyebrows and WTF looks on their faces, each receiving a full charge of the cosmic energy.

Delivering on the second verse, Weir extended some of the lyrical lines to the applause of the audience before the rest added to the vocals, cycling and spinning on the lyric “nightfall of diamonds” before fading back into instrumentation.

A laidback “Shakedown Street” rose from the ashes of the disintegrating astral object and got everyone back into the groove with a strut and a sing along. The horn arrangements are a great addition to this fan favorite and everyone got a turn in the spotlight. Once again, Weir slid that slide like a man on a mission. Like its celestial predecessor, this one came in at over seventeen minutes and had everyone dancing.

The band segued nicely into “The Wheel” and this version sounded on point, even in light of it being only the second time played by this group. Weir led the vocals with backing from Chimenti and Lane. Sless’ slide once again gave this one over to that cowboy feel and the horns and string just made everything right with this quintessential Dead tune. The midsection also got some great apical treatment before changing tempo and breaking into a calypso ending with Sless providing an on par (pedal) steel drum effect.

Without notice or delay “The Terrapin Station Suite'' fired up with its first component. Chimenti got a great solo early on while Sless’ picking just continued to shine. The Wolf Pack surrounded the brothers, filling the space with so much texture and feeling. The first movement came in at fourteen minutes before shifting to “At a Siding” with its big, foreboding sound. Mads Tolling called out to middle eastern lands and conjured images of bedouin and pyramids. Lane labored heavily on toms while Alex Kelly rolled strings akin to tabla fills. Intermingled with illumination and darkness, “Terrapin Flyer” certainly pendulumed between its heavy and light sections and was played true to its original forms. The horns got their run of the place and took every advantage of the spotlight, laying out lines at dizzying lengths and blinding speeds.

Although the band left out the final vocals of “Terrapin Refrain”, no disappointment was seen around the hall as the band dropped into “Morning Dew”. With those old familiar chords, a bolt of expectorant energy charged the room, many already knowing that this steadfast piece defines crescendo and apex in the GD pantheon

Putting a final good time on the night, The Weir Family hung its hat on Chuck Berry’s “Around and Around”. This one certainly got the joint jumping and contained a great breakdown in the middle before ramping back up for the big finish. This version came in at over ten minutes and although it was the encore, it certainly was not played as the afterthought.

The sound and lights of The Mission Ballroom leave nothing to be desired and no matter where one is taking it all in, the experience is crystal clear. From the visible excitement of the audience and the tangible joyous display on the stage, one thing is for sure: Bobby and his canine kin will certainly return to deliver on the music that has made this world a better place and all of us better people. Happy 75th birthday, Bob!

Tuesday night, one of the most famously underrecognized tale-telling trouveres returned to Fort Collins for the first time in over three years. Making his first appearance at Washington’s, cool cat Leo Kottke pleasured a nearly capacity crowd for almost two hours with acoustic acrobatic artistry and stories from his 50-year endless tour that left the audience silent, laughing, and applauding him at every pause. Presenting with a gentle giant demeanor and baritone articulation, the dry wit and perspectively askew take on life made this evening as unique and spontaneous as was to be expected by anyone familiar with this unsung talent. His yarns varied, were as atypical as his lyrics, and included themes such as hand-to-hand combat, Luxemburg, 5 and/or 7 beat single hand guitar rolls, and admittedly forgetting what he was talking about.

Walking on stage to a seated audience, Kottke picked up his first of two acoustics off the floor, smiled at the applause, and informed everyone,” Leo will be out in a minute. He’s back there getting his breath”. With a hearty laugh by the listeners, Leo started up the Bob “Frizz” Fuller cover “Last Train to Chico”, a tune that has appeared on his setlists for years.

Keeping with the obscure theme of the evening and prompting the next selection, the stageman reported: “There is an island off of the coast of Greenland named Qeqertarsuaq, with a population of 55 whose inhabitants wanted something a little different so they called it “Disko” with a K. This is also the name of this next song.” Laughing at his own random knowledge, Leo continued and took the opportunity to put the house photographer on the spot, directly addressing him with a “Hi” and then stating “thank you”, as the surprised silent shutterbug smiled and pointed right back at Leo. Getting back to it, Kottke continued, “I don’t know why I am smiling like this. I mean, why not. It is awful nice to see the lights back on. We are all back doing this”, a remark that lit the room with applause as Leo put things back on track with the aforementioned tune.

Without pause, Leo brought the audience back into his tale: “This one is called “Four Cents” and is named after something or other that crossed my mind at the time. You have to give these names and sometimes they work, sometimes it doesn’t, sometimes it comes back to haunt you and they never leave. The tunes, if they aren’t any good, you don’t mind losing those, but even those sometimes come back, like something you did in Luxembourg in 1974 with some woman wearing dirndls and a guy in a cowboy hat who grew up herding rats down a back alley somewhere. Hi Ho!” Continuing the eastern European tale, Leo spoke of another adventure on a German television program that involved miscommunication, hand-to-hand combat strategies, and the fear that Kottke elicits from foreign nationals. With that, listeners got treated to the ebb and flow of the instrumental “Four Cents” under the lights that coordinated perfectly with the emotional vibe of the piece, so much that Leo thanked “Chris the house light guy” for his contribution.

“Tiny Island” was next and was explained as being “written by a friend from the 1960’s who scripted this prophetic number. He would eventually be stranded on an island in the pacific. The island being Hawaii, but it is still an island”, again quickening the seated patrons to laughter and wrestling a chuckle from Leo as well. This one showed the performer’s talent not only on the gitbox, but vocally too, the rich and smokey lyrics given over to the room.

“From the Cradle to the Grave” was up next and was storied as a piece that had been written for his daughter and had triggered her first sentence, “Daddy don’t sing”, another selfless jab at his apparent self-deprecating talent. Following this one, Leo shared that pre-pandemic, the longest he had been off the road in fifty years was two months, and even then, that included some one-offs. He added that what the COVID break had done for him was “make all this seem new again”, resulting in an extended applause. Not able to leave an opportunity untouched, Leo chimed in, “Even the mistakes are new!”

At this point Leo switched guitars and slipped a glass slide on his left and demonstrated more of his incredible talent with a great outing on his classic construct “Junebug” from his 1971 release Mudlark. Light hearted and nimble, this one came off with a proficiency that reflected that Leo hasn’t lost to age any of what makes him great. Pausing only for a brief moment, “Louise” was the next, a track that has been a part of Leo’s canon since the 1970’s and was recognized immediately by many in the room. Bouncing along in meter, the vocals once again had everyone hanging onto every syllable while their hearts were warmly filled.

Completing the trifecta of Kottke classics, Leo delivered a well-played version of the comical tale “Pamela Brown”. This tune has the author thanking this missed love for being more of a dodged bullet, where the gratitude is rooted in appreciating the lovely lady for falling in love with someone else so that this intrepid traveler could lead the life, he finds himself amidst the song. The translation and satire fits Leo so well one would think he wrote the tune himself.

The instrumental “Two Cakes Walking” was performed, and at its finish, was described as being written “with a cake walk in mind, a dance mind you, where two cakes walked along heavy on their feet as they would not be spritely. Anyhow, there is no such dance, there is no cake walk. A cake walk is a contest and the best dancer won a cake. What a let down!”

The compositional “Gewerbegebiet”, German for industrial park, contained many movements and shifted from melancholy wanderings to upbeat vociferations and back again. Timing here was impeccable and the oscillation was executed without error.

To close the night, Leo slid back to the slide and sealed the deal with “Standing in My Shoes”. This bluesy bob bounced the room one more time and with its final note, everyone gave a standing ovation to Leo as he held up both guitars, smiled, and walked off amidst the fanfare.

Leo Kottke is a free agent of spontaneity and does what he does not because he wants to, but rather he has to. This life, this adventure, this observation is driven by genetics and history and if you asked Leo, he would probably say that at this point he wouldn’t know what else he could do. The age of the audience was varied and it was great to see that those attending were not confined to fans who would have been around during his heyday, if such a time existed, and with the close of the show, regardless of generation, all who walked out into the cold night wore warm smiles. Almost an octogenarian, this man still has plenty to witness, spin, and share before he throws in the towel and by all means, his existence makes this world a better and more interesting place to be. If you don’t know Leo or recognize him only by his decades of loose associations, plan to close out this year or mark a day in 2023 to see him make the ordinary so much more extra all the while sharing what a lifetime on the road has to offer. Thank you, Leo, for your service. You are not only a veteran of our armed services but our acoustic ones as well.

According to Merriam-Webster, to collaborate is defined as “to work jointly with or together, especially in an intellectual manner” and for music fans, we love this word. Whether it is put to good use within the members of our favorite bands or through the avenue of the surprise sit in, everyone in the audience loves a good gelling and these instances are usually what make up the fabled stories of our musical adventure. When one considers the collaborative effort through the lens of improvisational music, the end result has a giant question mark looming over it. Some unions have led to fracture, others to legend, but regardless of the outcome, there are characteristics that are essential for any. Improvisational music is just that, improvisational, and in the live setting there is no safety net, the contributors have to believe that everyone will be at the right place at the right time to catch the change, the note, the head, the whatever in that full attempt to make magic. It requires trust and belief in the moment and that the moment itself is all that is to be had and if one or more push the expectation or dwell on the minutes passed, the target is muddled and often lost. Verbosity aside, to collaborate with anyone is a leap of faith and the belief in the all good with the hope for the incredible is what glues the musical universe together and keeps us coming back for more.

When the August announcement that the Trey Anastasio Band and Goose were going to be hitting the road together, the excite-o-meter got floored. First, Trey never tours with anyone and as we all know, he doesn’t have to. Second, from the excitement and aftermath of the magic of Trey sitting in with Goose at Radio City Music Hall, everyone was begging for more. Lastly, when it was announced that there would be nightly collaborations, it was a shoo-in that this eight night outing was certainly something not to be missed.

On a personal note, having photographed Trey and the jamband scene since the 1990’s, I knew I couldn’t miss out on this once in a lifetime opportunity and for this experience, I employed my own art of collaboration to make the magic happen. Planning it out and trying to work around my occupation, family, and living in Colorado, I pondered which venue would be the best as I was going to have to travel to the East Coast for the goodness. I perused capacities and placed my sites on the UPMC Event Center in Moon Township, PA. Lauded at 4000 full, this one was the smallest venue of the tour and landed almost exactly halfway through the eight gigs, allowing for any kinks to be worked out by the time of my arrival. Also, with a name like Moon, I figured this one might just have a little something extra, whether it was the performance, the poster, or both.

With the time and financial pressures of the holidays, I knew I needed to reduce costs as much as possible and my plausible solution was to fly in and fly out within 24 hours and bypass car rental and hotel expenditures altogether. The only question was “how the hell am I going to do that, especially since I don’t know anyone on the moon!?!?!” Here comes collaborative effort part one. At Dick’s this past summer, night three, I got in line to get the poster as this was my 10-year-old son’s first show and I would be damned if I wasn’t going to turn him on to my addiction for collecting merch from events I have attended. When I got to the ghost town of a gate, there was only one guy ahead of me and of course we start talking. We shared stories of standing in and starting lines to get front row, to get pictures, to basically get the experiential reward from all the energy we put into this endeavor, and from the get-go, we just clicked. He was joined by the lovely Amanda. This good lady is bubbly and quiet at the same time and comes off as very unassuming. She has attended hundreds of phish shows since 1994, but she would never boast about or reduce her experience to statistics. Her inner light shines through and she is just a ray of positivity that anyone would want to be around. Sharing our backgrounds, I ask where they are from and they extol that they are heralding out of Ohio and by the time the gate opens and we are making the mad dash, we had exchanged info and open invitations to each other for free housing should the need ever be there.

Shappy is a stout gentleman with wide smile and an open-door heart who has been riding this experience for decades. For him it is an experience and when he shares stories, it is often served with a smile and joyous laugh alongside his great sense of humor. He is good people. In light of these characteristics, I reached out to him and asked if he was going to attend the Pennsylvania show. He stated he was on the fence, but that if I was traveling for it, he would certainly go, prompting me to ask how far he lived from the venue, retorting within a couple of hours. Again in an effort to save time and expense, I asked him if he would be willing to pick me up from the airport, take me to the show, and then drop me off afterward to sleep in the airport so as to catch a 5:00 am flight back home. He of course agreed and then proceeded to tell me I was nuts and that he was too old to be doing something like that, to which I agreed, knowing I would pay at least for a day following the whirlwind expedition. With this news, I booked my flight departing at 5:20 am day of the show and returning at 5:00 am the morning after. Travel plans, check!

For the week of the show, I knew I would be covering Leo Kottke, Taboose, and Victor Wooten all within five days and knowing the time I typically invest in writing reviews, I figured I would need some help here too. Enter Jon “The Writing Muscle” Russell and his lovely registered nurse wife Felicia. These two have had the Goose fever for some time and travel to places far and wide to see as many shows as they can. It is a wonder that their children haven’t had to change their names from GD songs to more avian influenced ones, like Canadian and Beak. This family also has a long-standing history with Trey and Phish so I thought who better, being college educated and full of statistical information, to help me produce the review so I could focus (pun intended) on the photographic component of this outing. I reached out and they stated excitedly that they were in. Writing endeavor plans, check!

At 2:30 in the morning on the 15th, I set out from Northern Colorado heading south on I-25 and everything is clear sailing: stars are out, no traffic, speeding towards the amazing, without a care in the world. Then, 20 miles from Denver, out of nowhere, snow flurries and already two to three inches of the white stuff as far as the eye can see blanketed the interstate. Semis are driving at 50, other cars have their hazards on, and I am not believing my eyes. I start fretting if my plane is even going to take off as I get closer and closer, the snow not letting up but rather intensifying. Maxing out at 50 mph myself and white knuckling it down the road, I try to remind myself that it all works out the way it is supposed to and that the more chaotic the journey, the better the story. Pressing on, I finally arrive to DIA, covered in snow and its million lights reflecting off the low hanging, burdensome clouds, again thinking I have a delay at the least and hearing my wife’s nagging but correct voice in my head: “You should always take a direct flight on show day so you don’t miss your connection”, a statement brought on by my choosing of a two-hour layover in St. Louis in order to save a few bucks on the way to the Moon.

I walk into the airport and check the board for the flight status and shockingly, everything is reading on time. I pull out the phone and reaffirm and every light is green lit. I can’t believe what I am reading but I certainly took the good news and made my way to the gate. The plane took off as scheduled and from the air, one could see that the snow had been going for some time, as the break in the clouds from the Mile High to the Gateway to the West revealed a white landscape with more clouds as far as the eye could see eastward. Landing in St. Louis, the backdrop was more of the arctic same and I continued to cross my fingers for no delays and, with Christmas magic in the air, the boards, the phone, and the Southwest reps all assured that things were moving forward on schedule. This fact not only proved to be true, but the final plane landed in Pittsburgh thirty minutes early!

Making a quick stop in Iron City at the famous Fiori’s Pizzeria and ordering more pizza than we could eat, Shappy and Company boxed up the leftovers and made our way through the slushy highways that connect all east coast cities to our final lunar stop. Arriving at 4:30 pm, my driver and I made our way into the venue, expecting to be met with the typical line of fellow poster freaks, especially with the release of the crescent moon image of the show poster for the night, and were shocked when literally the numbers amassed to less than 25. We quickly asked around to make sure we were in the right place, questioning patron and employee alike, and finally felt assured that luck was just on our side this fine wintery day.

Doors were advertised as opening at 5:30 and they did, but we were only allowed to advance about 50 feet into the venue, as Goose was still in the middle of their soundcheck. Minutes stretched and as there was another line at the lower part of the venue for GA ticket holders, many around questioned if the other line was getting in early, if there were going to be posters left, etc. and the paranoid-induced grumbling began. With the restlessness, the ticket scanners using hand held devices figured they should put their time to good use and scan the first handful of fans in the four lines so when we finally were allowed to enter we would be one step closer to done. Immediately, one of the scanners isn’t working and this infusion just added to the already unsettled feeling. A manager, sensing increasing distress, stood on a nearby bench and exclaimed in a booming voice, “Good evening, everyone. I have been warned by the venue, the tour, and the performers that you all are crazy about your posters and I want to assure you that no one else is getting in right now. We will open both the GA line and this one when the soundcheck is over. We are working on the broken scanner so please have patience and you will all be able to get your posters very soon.” The crowd laughed and smiled at the poster crazed remark and we went back to enjoying our conversations.

Nearing 5:55, the 25-person line had now filled the space we were in and extended out the door and without a scanner hitch, the four-lined dog race was set loose on the track. Making it to the merch table, poster seekers set in from the two entry points and it was clear that the venue had kept their word and all was good in the land of collectibles. Knowing I had to meet with the media handler, Shappy handed me his poster and I took our scores, heading back into the continued downfall of fluff for the poster drop off and pick up of my gear before heading down the hill to the media entrance.

Walking in, I was quickly met with another set of metal detectors and security, and as they eyeballed my rather large backpack with the unstated phrase “You can’t bring that in here”, I quickly relayed my position as a member of the press, which physically changed the gentlemen’s expression in an instance, as he told me to wait. Shortly thereafter, a nice lady with a kind smile approached, asked my name, and radioed my contact to meet. She then escorted me to the ticket window so that the nice man could print my ticket and “save us time” for when the rep, Mackenzie, would arrive. Five minutes pass and this enthusiastic twenty-something with a mile wide smile introduces herself and escorts me to the nether regions of the venue to the media room. I asked how many photographers would be here for the night and she reported me, the house photographer, and one other who may or may not show up as this person, obviously out of their gourd, had not reached out per the advanced instructions as we quickly approached the 6:30 pm cutoff time for media to be escorted to the floor.

When that magical time came, it was only me and Nick the house photographer and in light of this photo duo, the joy of the moment grew, knowing that few would have the opportunity to photographically commemorate this special night, a dynamic that after 25 years makes me giddy. Escorted to the floor, we were met by probably the nicest tour manager in existence. Kanute (sp) greeted all of us with a smile and a handshake and a welcome, touting a gentle presence in light of his broad-shouldered build. He quickly ran down the rules and thanked us for being there and asked if we needed anything. Assuring him we didn’t, he wished us a good shoot and turned back into the shadows.

Finally, the lights went down to the full house’s energized reception as Goose took the stage and Jon “The Writing Muscle” Russel took to the pen:

To kick things off with some warm island vibes on what was likely a chilly night in PA, the band chooses “Butter Rum” to get the evening started. This one opens with Peter Anspach and Rick Mitatoronda both on guitar. On a typical night, drummer Ben Atkind responds to Rick's "Hey Butter Rum" call in the song, but for this crowded house, the audience took care of that instead, and in retrospect, there is some uncertainty whether we've heard a call and response from the crowd on this song before.  This opener had some stellar guitar and keyboard solos, and once Peter switches back to keys, the jam built up pretty well with some nice guitar work from Rick before dropping back into its end. Maybe it was just me but I feel like I heard a mythical Phish style “Woo” at the end of the song as well.

“Creatures”, the song that literally got me hooked on Goose, got the number two slot and I loved every minute of it. Rick kicks off the vocals with some auto tune just for all the haters in the crowd as this is a heavy auto tune song.  Peter hops back and forth between keys and guitar for the more structured beginning.  Rick's vocals felt more soulful and a little more even paced and patient than usual.  The jam part had a slower build as well.  I really think playing with Trey on this tour has helped Rick and the band take their time and be more cognizant in the jams, instead of machine gunning everything. Rick certainly seems more willing to slow it down and take a back seat with the rest of the band as the moment unfolds. Peter got into some synth sounds near the end while the band built up their usual tension and release moments throughout.  

Somewhere around 15 minutes in, they downshifted things even more before a nice segue into the instrumental “Moby”. This one is from Goose's Ted Tapes, a conglomerate of jams they really liked while recording and practicing in the studio and seems to be a band favorite, it being the most commonly played song/jam from that release.  This one really flowed nicely out of the “Creatures”-born jam and had some good interplay between Rick’s guitar and bass work by Trevor Weekz.  The crowd really seemed to get into the buildup before the song ended. As a phish phan, this one has always felt like a "What's the Use" type song to mellow things out after a good jam and appeared to have the house feeling good in its wake.

For only the second time on this mini-tour, “All I Need” kept the progression going nicely. The necessity piece got off with a pretty standard beginning, included an abbreviated drum solo from Ben and lit up with some nice work from Peter on the keys.  Once the band hit the jam portion, the members once again downshifted, demonstrating more of the patient Rick characteristic referenced during “Creatures”.  For these ears, this slower jam contained a strong “Dark Star” vibe, resulting in that early 70's spacey Dead quality and was quite beautiful to hear.  The jam then builds back up into what is more typical for “All I Need” with some nice work from the rhythm section of Jeff Arevalo. The improvisation eventually turns frenzied and wild near the end before they drop back into the song and finish up the lyrics.  Solid version of this classic Goose tune.

Between the bearded fans and the snowy outside, “Yeti” seemed like a no-brainer for the evening. Rick said "Cool" before Trevor let loose with the normal Yeti bass intro, a definitive piece that makes this one unmistakable for anything else once the bass starts up, just like “Down with Disease”.  This song is from Peter's original band Great Blue that he brought over when joining Goose.  Peter really gets into the guitar work here and was on his knees Hendrix style at the edge of the stage driving the front row crazy as he grinned with joy and putting his wireless guitar setup to good use.  

At about six minutes in, the jam starts to get darker and born out of the chaos, up pops The Johnson Brothers’ cover “Get the Funk Outta My Face”.  This one also contained another nod to the haters with the refrain of "If you don't like our music, then you don't have to choose it".  Rick and Peter traded some guitar licks before Rick signaled for a bass solo from Trevor.  This is a fun cover but it could have been even better if the Trey horn crew had come out to give it even more flavor.

At the finish of the funk, Peter invites his pal Trey up on stage to play a few and begins the collaborative part of the set with “This Old Sea”. This song is a real tear jerker, Felicia, my darling wife, was crying before the lyrics even really started.  Beautiful guitar interplay between Rick and Trey before the multi-part vocal harmonies with Rick, Peter, Trey and Jeff. Grabbed more tissues here because Trey really adds some heart and soul to this one, both on vocals and guitar.  Jam starts out mellow and blissful with Rick and Trey trading off licks.  The jam builds slowly with the two guitars feeding off of each other.  At some point in the jam, you forget how sad this song is and just get into the groove.  The band hits a little funky stretch for a bit but then moves back into a more rocking feel.  The jam just keeps building until Trey and Rick are taking turns melting faces. Trey hits a patented long note before the tension finally breaks and he starts using some of his Sci-Fi Soldier effects as the improv gets really weird and ventures off into type 2 territory before turning to the set closer “Empress of Oreganos”.

This fun-filled gospel type song gets everyone moving and Trey and Rick keep with the trading licks theme throughout.  Peter gets his jazz hands up in the air to signal it's time for the crowd to get involved and clap along, "Oh what a day to be living!".  Trevor gets a nice slow soulful bass solo before Peter takes a turn on the keys.  Song builds back up before Rick and Trey really take over and bring things to a close with a soul-bending revival ending.

With the final notes, the band members share hugs all around to end the set while the crowd cheers on the amorous presentation before the stage undergoes the trade out transformation for TAB.

With a short thirty minutes or less intermission, the lights darkened once again, and as I stood poised ready in the pit, Jon Russel was at home writing:

Trey entered from stage right first with the rest of the group in tow. No James Casey tonight as he is off the road getting cancer treatment. Instead, renowned saxophonist and song writer Kenneth Whalum will be sitting in to kick brass for the evening. I think I should preemptively state that I love to watch Cyro and all the crazy shit he plays so if there are too many mentions of what he is banging on, you will know why.

The TAB set started with “Everything’s Right”. This solid opener got the crowd going and just sounds so good with the horn section and back-up vocals. Cyro lit the crowd crazy with some scuba flipper clapping, thinking nothing of it by the look on his face. The jam section was nice and spotlit the horns. Whalum sounded great and filled Casey’s position nicely.

The fun instrumental “Mozambique” continued the horns showcase. Russ Lawton and Dezron Douglas laid out a solid temporal structure while everyone else bobbed over the top. “Camel Walk” followed and the arrangement albeit different form from the phish original sounds really great, smoother if you will. Although I can’t say “Camel Walk” without the “Dun Dun Dun”, the sleeker structure is welcomed and cool to hear. I love this one with the horns, adding a completely different feel to it vs the phunk Phish versions.

“Cayman Review” calypsoed in with an extended intro and had the whole room, including the band, dancing. We finally got to hear some more distinct bass here, but overall, the TAB command needs to turn Dezron up in the mix. Cyro slips on his evening wear washboard for this and by the end, Trey is dancing all over that stage.

Continuing the island vibe, more classic TAB came down the pike with “Alive Again”.  Cyro really gets into the whistle on this one and got his walkabout on, firing the crowd up from the front of the stage.  Trey puts in a mellow solo with some nice interplay with Ray on keys and the horns before Russ and Cyro drum solo it out before they wrap it up.

Slow things down for a minute and letting Trey croon for the people, “Love is What We Are” gave everyone the chance to take in the moment.  Like Goose’s “This Old Sea”, this one can have you reaching for the tissues depending on how it hits you, just ask my wife. Just a beautiful Trey ballad and I think everyone really likes the backup vocals which round it out and gives it some life.

The always recognizable “Gotta Jibboo” infused the room with dance once again. This is one of the songs that makes you miss Tony on bass. This is certainly not a knock on Dezron as he is great, but “Jibboo”, “Sand”, and “First Tube” always make me think about Tony.  TAB gives it the usual treatment with some jamming throughout.  Trey threw in a few delay loops at the start, nothing like this song has had in the past, but then moves away from it pretty quick.

The instrumental “Olivia” got the jazzy horn treatment before shifting into a spooktacular “Ghost”. TAB has certainly found something with “Ghost”, doing their take on the song justice.  Not saying it's better than Phish, but usually it's not even close, and for this evening’s performance, the gap was narrowed even further.  The backup vocals and horns really brought some punch to this one and gave Trey space to explore. Cyro had all kinds of haunted sounding items to play here, including, chains, bells, and other randoms and utilized them all as expected. The jam gets darker while building up to “Simple Twist Up Dave”. Natalie “Chainsaw” Cressman and “Big Red” have some nice interplay in this one, with some great back and forth action. Jen Hartswick gets a turn next, more of a true trumpet solo and less back and forth with Trey.  A little more drum break from Russ and Cryo gets out the megaphone for a bit and fires up his tower of drums before they move back to close out the song.

Trey’s latest release from Mercy, “Hey Stranger” gets some air time next. This one is moody and an automatic favorite for many. Backup vocals really fill this one out and “The Milkman” Ray throws down on the Clav effects. Short, sweet, and groovin’, this new sultry sample leads it with a strut.

Powerhouse staple “Money, Love, and Change” came out swinging. Trey leads the jam with some nice guitar work which builds up to a strong finish, the horns egging him on and burning the place down.

Classic TAB rocker “Push on ‘Til the Day” got anyone left sitting to their feet. Trey went full rockstar for this one, including twisted faces, head bobbing, and notable dance moves all the while melting the audience’s faces. For those phishy people in the crowd, anytime you get a turkey ham and back of the worm reference, you know it's a good song.  

“Sand” was the song of choice for the collaborative part of Trey’s set, Rick and Peter taking their respective places on guitar and keys and getting settled in. Originally planning on doing something different, Trey changes his mind in the moment about what song to play, classic Trey, and Peter has no idea what they are going to do as Trey wears that impish grin of his.  Trey gives James Casey a shout out of love and healing before they start and thanks Kenneth for filling in. The first part is a standard read, but then Trey slows things way down after the vocal part of the song and swaps licks with Rick for a lengthy bit. The midsection eventually builds back up in typical “Sand” fashion over driving rhythm before returning to its normal groove, leaving listeners and players alike wrought with joy at its end.

For the encore, Trey goes solo acoustic for “More” and “Backwards Down The Number Line”. “More” done solo has a different feel with just Trey, doesn't build up quite the same, but it has more heart and soul to it.  Nice version.

“Number Line” started off strong and had the audience singing along. Towards the end, Trey flubbed the lyrics and had to stop to laugh at himself, stating,” You all don’t know what goes on in this crazy brain of mine” as the room erupted in thankful awareness of all the wonderful craziness we have been gifted with. Trey picked back up where he left off and had the audience singing stronger along for the finish, bringing a noticeable joy to his face.

For the closer, Trey invites everyone including the whole of Goose back on stage to close out the night with one more. Everyone in their respective place, Trey chimes in, “I can’t even begin to describe how fun this tour has been. It really has been unbelievably great.” He then proceeded to go around the stage, asking everyone if they were having fun. Jen and Natalie then take a moment,” We are feeling really ill-balanced. If anyone wants to come over to our side, you can visit”, prompting Cyro and Trevor to leave the drum encampment and migrate to horn row armed with percussive instrumentation. The final choice was tour first “Suzy Greenberg''. Once started, Peter got to sub for Fishman and do the vocal fills about neurologists and seemed to enjoy the heck out of it. For anyone who ever stated they wanted to see a “Suzy” with horns, this one made good on that wish. Definitely a fun version of the song.  Cyro was yelling and walking the stage from end to end since he gave his percussion kit over to Jeff and Ben from Goose. Peter and Ray traded runs on the piano and organ solos from the keyboard pit. Trey and Rick took time to shred it out before the house rhythm got the syncopation spotlight accompanied by Hartswick for a solo that would carry on until everyone else jumped back in for the final stanza.

Hanging it all up with a big rock finish, the band smiled, some bowed, and Trey took a moment to venture over to Rick and Peter and give them hugs, before the sum left the stage, smiling and as filled as the 4000 they left behind.

Walking out into the cold, all who exited were using the same accolades: amazing, incredible, pleasantly surprised. I jumped back into the car with Shappy and munched on leftover pizza as we headed down the highway to my floor space at the Pittsburgh International Airport, the sum of us smiling from the inside out as we reflected on the good living we had experienced over the last few hours. Even now as I sit here writing this, my face is filled with a smile not only from the chance collaboration I got to take in, witnessing great music produced by the old and new schools coming together, but also the collaboration that I was a part of because of others like Shappy, Jon, Felicia, and Amanda, all of whom I met and connected with because of the leap of faith it takes to join in on this musical flight of fancy. Long live the improvisation of life and the open hearts of the kind and let us all remember that at the heart of collaboration is community.

Last week, Victor Wooten, Steve Bailey and Derico Watson wrapped up their Bass Extremes Tour with a four night blow out in the Centennial State. Landing everywhere but the southwest and west coast in a 21-night-in-27-days run from October into November, the trio hit Fort Collins, Manitou Springs, Denver, and finally Boulder in consecutive performances to close it all out. Promoting their latest endeavor and their first in two decades, their seemingly paradoxical titled creation S’low Down showed audiences through these four sold out performances that they were all but following this direction. Dazzling and bewildering, their 90-minute sets once again concluded that these gentlemen deserve the seats they have earned in the pantheon of top-tier musicians on a global level.

Derico Watson plays with a passion, speed, and a locked-in timing that his voice in this project seems not only perfect, but more so created by the universe itself specifically for this seat, drum throne if you will, that no one else could fill. Steve Bailey with his fingers for Miles stretches the extent of the seemingly impossible dynamics of the six-string fretless while playing in symmetry, parallel, perpendicular, and often times opposite to his counterparts, making his contribution not only a fit of precision, but also at times, otherworldly. After decades of awe-inspiring performances on the terrestrial road, Victor Wooten continues to dazzle with the “how” factor, surpassing the wow and kept the audiences of the Rockies scratching their heads with his impossibility. Alone, each of these giants stand apart from many of their contemporaries, but as a group, this trifecta of effect-a had eyes glued, mouths shut, and ears wide open, while the heart and soul of listeners were leveled for a ticket price that in the aftermath seemed much, much to low for the end result.

Thursday night, Fort Collins served as ground zero for the Colorado run. The evening began with a darkened room, an empty stage and a piped-in conversation between Bailey and Wooten with accents and remarks from Bootsy Collins. As the piped in preamble concluded, Watson took the stage and laid the beat, unaccompanied, solid and smooth, until finally the other two entered from opposite sides of the stage from behind the audience.

Bailey jumped in, contributing to Watson’s groundwork, getting things started with “Home Bass”. Followed shortly by Wooten, who was visually ready to kick off a great night, smiling and making eye contact with the front rows, but instead was immediately stopped in the track, the sound wrought with uninvited distortion and technical difficulties, ending the first piece before it got started. Getting a little help from Johnathan, one of their traveling techs, the band was back on the road, leaving “Home Bass” in the rearview. The three headed monster moved into a short clinic on chromatic scale before setting off into the entertainingly odd “The Chrome Addict”. Constructed with a sweet melody at its core and adorned with a strange fringe, the outcome of this one left any memory of technical difficulty by the wayside as the audience soaked it all in. If there was an alternate title to this one it could have been “Kitchen Sink” because this one’s had everything.

“Not at Three” off of the Bass Extremes 2002 release Cookbook, was introduced with banter and comedy between Wooten and Bailey, fueling the funny bone of the audience. Wooten took the time to introduce his string compatriot as “being able to do on the six string fretless bass what only three people in the world have ever been able to do. One of them was deported, the other spontaneously combusted, and the third is the great Steve Bailey.”

Derico Watson got a little time in the sun, shaking a short but meteoric drum solo that had the crowd calling out for more. With a final apical build, the resolution turned toward a steady groove and served as the perfect launchpad for multiple minutes of exchange between Vic and Steve. The jam that ensued eventually gave way to a medley that consisted of Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven”, Lynyrd Skynyrd's “Free Bird”, The Beatles’ “Here Comes The Sun” and “Come Together” and The Rolling Stones’ “Paint it Black”, before dissolving into various forms of discord, eventually running through several measures of searing bass lines that left even the performers laughing along with the audience.

Introduced as the outcome of independent challenges both Vic and Steve left each other in the absence of the other while working in Steve's studio in South Carolina, “Patchwork” sounded just like what the title implied: an amalgam of personality stitched together with compositional cooperation. Detailed as attempting to one up each other in difficulty, the end result was an auditory adventure that boggled the eye and spun the ear.

“Patchwork” saw the departure of Steve and Derico and left Vic alone to toy with the sensibilities of the audience on his own. His bass solo started off with the easily identified and spirit lifting “Big Country”, filling the belly with soul with its embracing vibe. Derico was the first to return to the stage and took the tempo up considerably. Vic followed suit and started laying out the funk. This eventually morphed into a comical call and response of performance prowess, where Vic would call odd times for the drummer extraordinaire, prompting Derico to snap down the beat appropriate. These calls made by Vic even included fractions, such as “on the two and a quarter”, to which Derico was happy to oblige, nailing each one in perfection.

The title track from the touring album was up next and gave the jazz lovers in the room access to the standard side of things, devoid of shtick or comedic reference. The room swelled with this one and showed that with this latest creative endeavor, the writing team of Wooten and Bailey still had plenty in them from the creative department. With a brief break, the show closed with Derico leading the way with an extended and bone rattling drum solo before he took the opportunity to serenade the crowd into the wintery night with Bill Withers’ “Ain’t No Sunshine”, showing Watson's talent doesn’t end with kick drum and snare.

Listening back to the recording, writing a review of performances like these is almost an act of ridiculousness as there is no true way to capture in words everything that goes on between these performers. In the end, what has to be established is that the proof is in the pudding and oh how sweet it is. The fulfilling calories of this cosmic goodness not only left many wanting more, but also scratching their heads why there are such huge gaps in Vic and Steve getting on the road together. For anyone who caught shows that dotted the calendar in 2022, consider yourselves lucky because who knows when and where we will have the opportunity to catch this greatness again.

Thank you again to the staff and management of The Armory for not only allowing Grateful Web access, but for continuing to bring great music and artists to Northern Colorado. Without the creative direction of people like you, this life and landscape would be a little dimmer. Long live the community of the Bohemian Foundation that is demonstrated every night in the hearts of her people, including Greta, Erin, Ruby, Kevin, Chris, Andrew, Jen and all the others who help in making the magic happen.

For fans of the jam, the end of the year represents some of the best opportunities for the live music experience. Whether it be Phish, The String Cheese Incident, Widespread Panic or any host of improvisational groups with their multi-night events, ticket holders salivate at the possibilities of seeing shows night after night as well as the crown jewel of ear and eye candy that is December 31st. Although the NYE show is historically the most coveted ticket, veterans of the music scene have often stated that any night on the run can be just as, if not more, rewarding than the last night of the year.

Alongside the mega-runs and legendary venues, smaller shows are often announced in lieu of the main events in major markets and are set up to provide the opportunity to boogie for those shut out of the big game. For the Denver area, one such event came in the pairing of Marco Benevento and Ghost Light.

In June, Joe Russo’s Almost Dead announced that they would close out 2022 with two nights in Broomfield outside of Denver. Composed of multiple members, including Tom Hamilton of Ghost Light and Marco Benevento, this announcement had many excited to return to the Rockies and the great sight lines and sound of the 1st Bank Center. A short while later, two nights would become three (sort of) with the announcement of a pre-show to JRAD with Marco Benevento and Ghost Light hosting evening festivities at The Ogden in Denver proper on December 29th.

Although many expected the events to sell out, rumors abounded in the following months that ticket sales were low. Whether it was because The String Cheese Incident unveiled their plans for three nights at the intimate Mission Ballroom or STS9’s first return to the metropolitan area for NYE since 2018 or because many were heading out of town for Madison Square Gardens and the likes of the JEMP scene, whatever the reason, October was the bearer of bad news that JRAD was pulling out and opting to make up for it with a couple of summer shows on The Rocks. For fans of the band, it was a kick to the midsection, but for those in the area, many still looked forward to the 29th as no news of its cancellation followed. Giving fans an opportunity to catch their breath, October delivered one more blow to Ghost Light patrons with the announcement that the clever keyboardist Holly Bowling was leaving the band. With little to no explanation, it was revealed that The Ogden would house the last show with Holly as a full time member.

The months passed and December finally arrived. Wrought with arctic winter weather and an apocalyptic number of flight cancellations, the warmth that only a great show can bring was greatly welcomed and that is just what those good people got who chose to shake it indoors at The Ogden. With a host of potential looming, doors opened at 6:30 and for those who opted to come early, a real treat was had with the Denver sextet The Green House Band. Giving it their all for a non-stop 45 minute set, they were certainly a great surprise and delivered on the blues, Motown, and southern jam with an execution that made them seem as if they have been together a lot longer than three years. From powerful vocals to a tight ensemble, this well rehearsed, well oiled machine had the whole room of early birds applauding at the end of every song and many checking their phones for other regional opportunities to catch this band on fire.

Following a short set break, the floor was mostly filled and the balcony was comfortably occupied, breaking the conjecture that this show was going to be poorly attended based on all the music that was within five miles of our current location.

Marco Benevento was up next and, per the usual, came out in trio fashion, joined by the energetic “smiles for miles” Karina Rykman on bass and Benevento’s own cousin Chris Corsico on the drums. Donning a blinding white sequin jacket and a three eyed t-shirt, Marco welcomed the crowd and received an equally warm salutation in return. Rykman, grinning from ear to ear, took her spot stage left, touting a red velvet jacket and her newly crafted gold glitter bass, aptly named Goldie Hawn, slung around her thorax, ready to blow minds for their first performance together.

“Coyote Hearing” started the set and the high energy initiated got the place rolling. The expected prowess of Benevento and Rykman was there from the first notes and Corsico quickly threw in letting everyone know that his cousin had made the right choice in choosing him for this evening’s musical adventure. As the drummer of choice through the fall Benevento tour and often backing Rykman in her solo project, Corsico’s contribution from the onset was confident, deliberate, and downright tasty.

Keeping the joy elevated, the bubble gum pop of “Dropkick” was the second choice. Before getting into the lyrics, Marco asked the audience to appreciate Rykman along with him and when the crowd didn’t deliver on his expectation, he called out for a louder appreciation, this time the audience let Marco know how truly appreciative they were. Wanting to bring everyone into the fold, Marco called out for Corsico, and this time, there was no requirement of the crowd to chime in twice, the room calling out exuberantly for cousin Chris. “Dropkick” bopped and popped along and got a healthy dose of Benevento treatment in the middle that had the crowd waving their hands in the air at the climax as Marco dripped with sweat and Rykman’s hair was thrown in every direction.

The waterfall echo of “Greenpoint” pulled the room into the rippling ride. Heavy bass lines anchored the trailing meanderings of Benevento’s talent as the drums swam in between, sliding from solid snaps to shifting cymbal sands. Amidst the melody, the band threw in a tease on Suzanne Vega’s “Tom’s Diner”, a usual component for this one.

Inlaid with heavy bass distortion supporting the uplifting Marco melody, the structure of “Heartbeats” kept the show going in a juxtapositional balance. Corsico dropped on the toms and shuffled the snare, making all the changes, and continued to play the material  as though he had been playing these numbers for years.

Kicking off “Send It On a Rocket”, Rykman laid out that oh so sweet resounding bassline, prompting Marco to acknowledge her once again, the crowd happy to recognize. Oscillating between vibrato synth effects and digital strings sounds as well as the occasional space effect, the room now nearly filled to capacity, orbited the stage in Marco’s host of effects.

Taking a pause, Marco addressed the crowd, “Do you all want to hear anything in particular? Special requests?”, which was met with a muddled barrage of shout outs, to which Marco laughed and said, “ Well sh*t, that was a bad idea, I can’t hear anything!” Finally discerning something, the band acknowledged the request and continued with “The Real Morning Party”, encouraging everyone to sing along, which of course everyone did. This one contained a short but fiery drum solo in the middle, resulting in calls for more before the trio returned to the head. Marco took the end of the number for a wild ride having everyone holding on for the good life.

Taking requests again, Marco now offered “songs for a buck”. As many reached for their wallets, Marco stated,”A friend of mine also gave me a dollar to play a song. I don’t know where she went, but uh…” At this point Holly Bowling came in behind Marco with a stack of dollars and made it rain over Benevento as Rykman and Corsico pushed the crowd into louder and louder cheers.

Inviting Bowling to share the bench, the two filled their faces with genuine smiles and paired up for a four-handed rendition of “Atari”, an accomplishment that two had completed for audiences in times past. As the minutes passed, the duo’s smiles never waned and at the tune’s end, B&B hugged tightly and smiled grander than when they had started.

Recognizing JRAD’s sound engineer John Hanson who had been running sound for the set and for the first time for a Benevento show, Marco thanked his longtime friend and dedicated the next section to him. Kicking off the transitional masterpiece with Hanson’s reported favorite song, “Story of Fred Short”, the trifecta of effecta wove in and out of twenty plus minutes of seamless playing with “Seven Twenty Two”, “Walking With Tyrone”, “Live A Certain Life”, and “Stay In Line”, leaving everyone, not just the band, dripping with sweat and beaming like energized headlights.

Riding the high and wanting to keep the party going, the disco infused “I Can’t See the Light” elevated the energy on the dance floor. With multiple calls for “everyone to make some noise”, this one just kept the good vibes glowing and flowing.

Firing up the joy machine one more time, the set closed with “At the Show”. Benevento began with, “I appreciate / the way you accentuate / what I consider to be the positive! How about a round of applause for the positive? I want to see you on your baddest behavior / lend me some sugar, I am your neighbor!”. Closing it out with one last sing-along song, Benevento, Corsico, and Rykman delivered on the expected revelry and revitalization that drew out the inner kid to play, have fun, and leave it all hanging out with a smile and a hug for life itself.

Another half hour break had many filling up for the closing set of heavy Ghost Light psychedelia. When the lights went down, the house music changed from some muted motown tune to an audibly louder piping of Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” as the band members took the stage. Their faces filled with laughter, this piece of music seemed like some sort of inside joke that the audience was not privy to. Nonetheless, this did not bar the attendees from jumping in on the chorus as multiple members of Ghost Light danced and sang along to the 80’s hit. Tom Hamilton, straight faced and unamused, hit a dischord on the guitar and reeled everyone in to seriousness, prompting Taylor Shell to lay out the baseline groove of “Don’t You Say Goodnight Just Yet” to get it all started. Drummer Scotty Zwang fell in line and the groove was on. Holly Bowling began adding scratchy effects until finally amidst the dark purple lights and thick groove, the ethereal voicing of Raina Mullen rolled out the lyrics. Only a few measures in and it was obvious the band was on point. The first round of solos produced dueling between Mullen and Hamilton, eventually braking to give Bowling time to solo with a classic piano sound. All throughout the piece, Bowling contributed a myriad of flavors, from organ to synth to otherworldly oddities. Multiple minutes in, the feel slowed and became unsettling and deep, like falling through space or sinking into murky depths of discombobulation. Several minutes passed and the energy turned skyward, Hamilton and Mullen laying out line after line of frenetic streams, until almost one could take no more before the band yielded and left Mullen to cap the anthem with the final lyrical statements and closing measures. In the end, this tight opener timed out at over seventeen minutes and the fuse was lit.

“Don’t Come Apart Just Yet, My Dear” was next and had Hamilton taking vocal control with great back up harmonies from the rest of the band. This rocker was more straightforward in composition than its predecessor but was equally filled with the same tasty spice and touched on points of beauty, power, and inspiration. Midway through, Tom threw out some great Jerry-esque guitar work, equipped with that “Shakedown” wah effect and upped the dancing ante of the room.

Now thirty minutes into the show, Tom addressed the audience with a simple, “Good evening, Denver”, before starting up the title track of their latest studio creation The Healing. This one showcases Hamilton’s ability in the higher vocal registries, reflecting the talent in this artist as the whole singer / songwriter / musician package. Again, the harmonizations from Mullen and Bowling were spot on and accentuated the caliber of the craft that is Ghost Light Music. Bowling got first pass at the solo spot and lit the room from the inside out, working out those fingers as though they were possessed, but without missing a note or coming off the rails. Short but savory at seven minutes, the crowd certainly gave it up to the band at the end of this new one.

“Diamond Eyes” off of their freshman album Best Kept Secret got a wave of recognition from the audience with the opening chords. Mullen slipped right into the lyrics and showed again her talent as both fierce singer and first place guitarist. The middle groove hit the funk bone of everyone and the dance floor was alive with people getting down, eyes closed, and listening to every shift. Nine minutes in and the tune that defines ebb and flow “Synth Driver” morphed out of the ashes of “Diamond Eyes” and converted the disco to a meandering river of mood and muse. The ending few minutes filled the space with multiple textures before summiting an explosive volcanic ending, blowing chaos, fire, and an end of times energy that at its stop into silence had many onlookers saying “Damn!”. All sung and done, the pairing resulted in nearly twenty minutes of flavor filled musicality and cosmic joy.

Turning to the honky-tonk with a Bo Diddley feel, American Babies’ classic “Old Time Religion” brought the crowd in for a little Sunday church service. Bowling laid it all out on the classic piano effect and showed in simplicity how great she is at what she does. Shell and Zwang just laid it on thick, keeping perfectly the rumble without fumble as the guitars shredded over the top. As with many pieces throughout the night, this one also swung from the highs of revival to the low and slow of emotion, expertly demonstrating the prowess of this outfit.

As church let out, Hamilton picked up the acoustic and Bowling slipped into the Hammond as the rhythm section turned down, the whole migrating into the melancholy of “Bring It In Close”. The third American Babies number of the night, this one breathed with softness and emotion at the onset, picked up a punchy middle, and ended on a “Morning Dew”-like crescendo that simply took the breath away.

Shaking off the acapella echoey ending of “Bring It In Close”, the set shut with the pop rock of “Fever Dreams” and although this one let out with a spirited chase, its head eventually disintegrated open into wide and angular territory, each member notching out their corner while still coloring outside the lines in complement to their compadres.

For the encore, Mullen closed out the night with another track off of The Healing in “Take Some Time”. Short and sweet, the tune warmed the room before sending everyone out into a chilly, snow-edged evening.

December 29th was a reward from start to finish. From the surprise in the talented opener The Green House Band to Benevento, Rykman, and Corsico getting the dance party started to the psychoactive exercise that is Ghost Light, three sets over five hours: enough said. All participants, including the audience, brought their A game and none left dissatisfied. Although no mention of Bowling’s departure was issued, the evening was without somber or hesitation and from all perspectives, it was business as usual and well worth the time and money. As the year closes, the promise of the new one brings just that: more promise. The promise of change, possibility, and the unexpected and when one considers the world of music, this can mean just about anything can happen. Holly, we wish you the best of luck and look forward to everything you do in 2023 and for Ghost Light, the fans can’t wait to see who you put on that bench, behind those keys to keep this obvious great thing going. Marco, Karina, and Chris, here is to you and your already announced 2023 spring tour. May you keep dishing out the positive for all those who surround you. Finally, Green House Band, you got that special thing so keep on toiling in the garden of life as music lovers everywhere need some of your goodness and newness for the upcoming solar cycle.

To close out 2022, The String Cheese Incident decided to play it close to home and ring in the new year at Denver’s musical gem, the intimate Mission Ballroom. Topping out at 4,000 heads, getting to see SCI in such a small venue for three consecutive nights and so close to their own front doors meant that the band and extended community were in for a sold-out homecoming of sorts filled with familiar faces from both sides of the stage. Although the first two nights were billed as having special guests, the New Year’s Eve celebration touted the usual “all cheese, all night” dynamic of genre-bending splendor and what the band brought was nothing short of spectacular. Laying out three sets comprised of 25 songs, the band delivered on the “home for the holidays” theme in a myriad of ways including performing many classics from their earlier years, most of which originated in before the year 2000. The band also invited ticket holders into their cabin for soul-filling refreshments with multiple fireside jams and premiers under the enchantment of a night sky of starlight, snowflakes, a full moon, and visions of the Rocky Mountains.

Arriving within an hour of doors, it was clear that many had claimed their place in one of three lines early on. Of the three, one was reserved for early entry and was filled with VIP purchasers who certainly took the costume cake, dressed to the nines for the occasion. The second one paralleled early entry and was occupied by those who felt that they had one upped the third line, thinking that the narrower opening, a single set of double doors, would move faster when the time came than the line that touted the bulk of the patrons waiting to get in. As general admission drew closer, the VIPs were allowed in, calm, cool, and collected, entering the venue with grins and sequin, ready and willing to give it all over to the new year. Fifteen or so minutes later, security breached the multiple sets of doors and began choreographing metal barricades in a more orderly fashion in preparation for the mass influx who continued to patiently wait. Finally set to let loose the fortuitous fans with a ticket in their hand, the doors opened and the staff greeted everyone with a smile and well wishing. It was about this time that line number two realized that line number three had the upper hand in the decision making as multiple sets of double doors opened for them with line two limited to its single. Chalking it up to cosmic humor, many in that line chided themselves comically about “yet again making more bad life choices” as others around them laughed. Finally inside, what was striking was that the thousand or two that had made it in already weren’t heading for the rail, but for the seats, the majority of positions behind the soundboard already being populated while anyone else could easily walk up to within three rows of the rail, an unexpected dynamic and possibly a reflection of the bulk of old-school fans aging and preferring seats over the rail riding of yesteryear.

Looking around, nary a scowl existed and as the time drew near, The Mission continued to fill with the bubbly energy and positivity that so often defines The String Cheese community.

When the band finally took the stage, Billy Nershi stepped to the mic and threw out an enthusiastic “OOOOOOOOOOhhhhhhhh yeah! How you all doing tonight?”, followed by Michael Kang, “Thank you for spending your last minutes of 2022 with us!”.

With that brief address, the drummers started a beat and one by one the rest of the band came in, getting the evening started with the appropriate anthem of optimism “Joyful Sound”. Certainly, a favorite, bassist Keith Moseley took great pleasure in welcoming everyone in to celebrate, singing the lyrics with a smile and making eye contact with as many fans as possible. At one point, Moseley changed up the lyrics to,”Is what I am singing making sense to you? Come on now, let’s sing like it's 2022”, resulting in a burst of energy from the crowd.

With the final stanza of the opener, Kang shined out over the crowd on the electric mandolin and looking around, everyone in the house was getting down and the band returned in kind with some uplifting jamming, incarnating that joyful sound. The familiar eventually dissolved into an echoey landscape of reverb as the band improvised for a few minutes before building to a deadstop start in the latin magic of “Come As You Are”. Being the only version of 2022, this one was notably detected by listeners as a rarity, many throwing their hands in the air. One great feature of this number is seeing Nershi shred it up on the acoustic with his flat-picking wizardry and this version was certainly abundant with the pirate’s enthusiasm. Midway through, Moseley got an opportunity to lay out the funk, everyone else backing up so he could set up the dance line, eventually rejoined by his bandmates. Kyle Hollingsworth got down with some synth that kept that 70’s vibe going. The strength and solidarity of the Hann / Travis connection kept everyone in line as Nershi and Kang accented in the offbeat. As the energy continued to build, eventually the tune became a game of chase between Kang and Hollingsworth, trading lines and elevating the temperature and tempo until finally the unit broke free, returning to the head and shutting it down. At two songs in and twenty-five minutes of good living, everyone in the room knew it was going to be a great night.

Moseley again stepped to the mic, leading the band through “Sweet Spot”. Hollingsworth twisted his face with enthusiasm as he let loose the Leslie on the fully expecting crowd who cheered him on throughout his big finish. Riding the high, Kyle continued the set, initiating a gnarled “Don’t Say”, again for the first version of 2022. Stumbling a bit with the lyrics and timing, the band finally got a hold of the classic and finished it brightly and rightly to the gratitude of the crowd. Shifting a bit, the band developed into a short jam with a heavy piano feel, hinting at “Will It Go ‘Round in Circles” before leaving it all behind for “Black and White”. Kang nimbly nailed the lyrics line for line and the punchy signature of the piece kept the place dancing. Things got turned up more than a few notches with the anything but standard “Lovelight” closing that has been wiping out audiences for decades with revelry, revival, and revelation as everyone got up on the good foot.

Nershi strummed up “Song In My Head” for the next selection and this Rocky Mountain train on a Mission kept on chugging down the track towards the new year. Again, performed without a snag, it was apparent this far into the first frame that alongside the crowd, the band was having an equally great evening. Hollingsworth washed, no, bathed the crowd in Hammond B-3 goodness and as Billy called out “it’s getting louder, it’s getting louder” over and over, more than a few were seen in the crowd losing what marbles they had left. Splintering into pieces, the song in Billy’s head eventually morphed into the final tune of the set: a jamwich of ridiculousness with “Colliding”. Hann’s conga and djembe accentuations paralleling Travis’ steadfast pace locked this one in place, kept the band on task, and for many, facilitated the melting of face. Nershi pulled out the slide and Moseley stuffed the low end in an effect-filled envelope and the two mixed the funk and blues in all the right ways. Kyle stepped in with the Moog synth and this weird science creation was complete. Getting off on the strange for more than a few minutes, the band finally returned to the form and brought set one to an end under wave after wave of appreciation from the crowd splayed out in front of them.

Before exiting, Moseley stepped to the mic, “Set one, two more to go. Thanks for being with us. Stay hydrated and look out for your friends. Big night! So glad to have you here!”

Getting back to business with set two, Billy chimed in, “Yeah! You guys getting your party on out there? Yeah! Hell of a crowd, hell of a night! Thanks for making it!”, inciting the revelers to acknowledge the magic that was certainly in the air. “It Is What It Is” started set two with its island vibe. Moseley slid down the neck of his bass as Kang rolled out the lines, Kyle adding organ filling while Billy kept the skeleton together before the tune snapped with a barrage of drumming from Hann. The standard jam eventually rendered into odd timings filled with tension and release moments before resolving to a reggae theme. A few minutes more and Billy steered the ship into flatpicking country and swung them all towards “Indian Creek”. Playing in rounds, everyone got a turn fueling the charge and the wellspring infused the room with jubilation. Of note, this would be one of only two visits to the song’s banks since 2019.

“Sometimes A River” saw the return of Moseley to the mic for this crowd pleaser. Presenting a lengthy intro, the warmth of its melody and lyrics makes this one accessible and filling. Hollingsworth broke out “The Big Reveal”, a song co-written with Moseley about some early Grateful Dead experiences and those ‘ah-ha’ moments on the road to musical enlightenment. Starting out with a funky upbeat tempo, this one lightened about four minutes in and the new melody danced around the pop and snap of Travis’ snare. Secure melody splintered into discoursed minors as the room slid into tilt before returning to the resounding theme and ending with a substantial finish before its final stanza. This one would clock in at over fifteen minutes and would be one of the longest pieces of the three-set event.

Taking a minute to pause, Kang donned the violin and drew out the lengthy notes that called to the Middle East, sparking the fire of what would become an incendiary “Bhangra Saanj”. The rhythmic dance delivered by Travis and Hann was engaged from the start and the two fed off each other like serpents devouring their own tails, blurring the distinction of the individual, morphing into the whole. At times, one could spy Kang dancing in place while sawing at the theme.

Billy took another turn with his wildly interesting tale about adventurous women from Santa Fe in his tune “Jellyfish”. This one even got the ‘Dallas Alice’ treatment, as Billy slipped in a rap rendition of Little Feat’s “Willin’”, driving the crowd wild. The end saw the elevated chaos typical of the number, setting the music askew and climbing for the rafters, eventually settling once again with one last warning about Southwestern females. “Jellyfish” morphed into a lighter pattern that carried the crowd for multiple minutes before transitioning to the unfinished climatic ending of “Just One Story” from set two the previous night, provoking elation in all those who were aware of what was happening.

At about 11:30 pm and with the final set-in sight, the band entered the stage dressed in matching jackets, pants, and ascots against a darkened backdrop. Taking a moment to let the crowd take in their fashion choice, the six gentlemen stood lined up, under the spotlight at center stage as the crowd cheered them on, eventually moving to their respective spots. With instruments at hand, the once darkened background lit with a realistic fireplace and window graphic that gave everyone out front the feeling that were being invited into the band’s log cabin living room high up in the mountains, the panes filled with changing images of a full moon and the Rockies. With this addition to the visual experience, the clothing choice now made more sense as these were the kind of outfits one might wear sitting next to a fireplace with a good read and a pipe in hand. On the crowd side of things, a number of community members actively worked to pass out thousands of battery powered candles for the final set of 2022 and asked participants to light them to produce a starry night effect, a task everyone was happy to participate in.

Happy with themselves in their “home” setting and now under the glow of a night sky full of diamonds, Kang, wide-eyed and grinning from ear to ear, began with another PSA, “Here we go into 2023 everybody!”, the crowd meeting the band with a swell of public approval. Billy continued, “Alright!”, while Hollingsworth added, “Final countdown everyone!”, adding a solo comical rendering of the 80’s hit by the band Europe.

The choice for the opener came down in another classic “Black Clouds”. This ten-minute version was laid back and full of quality playing, unhurried and precise. At its close, the band, who has an obvious love for engaging their audiences, took a moment to recognize what a special evening it was and their appreciation for Colorado:

Hollingsworth: “It’s nice to be home for the holidays. Thank you for joining us in our living room here.”
Kang: “We are so grateful to be at our home here in Colorado with you guys. We are going to celebrate our homecoming here with you for New Year’s.”
Nershi: “It was so much to go through for a lot of people that traveled from their homes to come out and join us and we appreciate you all. Thank you very much for getting your butts out here to Colorado to bring in the new year with us. It means a lot. Who lives out here in Colorado? Let me hear you!"

Under a deafening roar of locals, Nershi delivered an acknowledging smile before starting for the first of two of the evening’s premiers in Simon and Garfunkel’s “Homeward Bound”, spurring even more holiday cheer from the very full auditorium.

About this time, the snowflakes that hugged the ceiling throughout the first two sets began to descend and lit from the inside. These well-crafted pieces would continue moving throughout the rest of the evening, rising, falling, and changing hue. This dynamic alongside the widespread candles truly made the room something to behold.

With the initiation of a second home song, “Way Back Home”, many were putting together the pieces that the theme of the set was going to revolve around this domicile idea. Lyrically hitting the idea of making one’s way back to comfort, this version checked all the boxes and pushed all the buttons. The transition of the tune resulted in a shift in tempo and inklings of a familiar thread were detected, eventually giving way to the second first timer in Blind Faith’s “Can’t Find My Way Home”, sending goosebumps out through the room. Well played, the tail transitioned quickly back into the final piece of “Way Back Home” and the final five seconds of the New Year countdown. Hitting the stroke of midnight, confetti splattered across The Mission alongside a multitude of balloons as the stage was lit under bright white light. The band was joined by Father Time as well as Baby New Year as champagne flowed into the band’s glasses and their hearts filled with the joy of the spectacle upon all of us. Nershi and Kang addressed the crowd once again:

Nershi: “Happy New Year everybody! Cheers, everybody! We love you! We hope 2023 makes all of your dreams come true! Here is to putting out some good vibes and having a great year."
Kang: “Cheers you all! We love you all!”

With a home full of the warmth and affection that being surrounded by family can bring, the band moved onto the next theme piece with the Talking Heads’ cover “This Must Be The Place”. As anyone knows who has followed this band, this one holds a special place in the fanbase and offers many opportunities for crowd recognition with unifying lines that always elicit good vibe reactions. It was also appropriate given the circumstances, its opening lyric being Home is where I want to be. The song eventually loosed a cosmic jam that added close to six minutes to its ending before shifting into the instrumental “Hi Ho No Show”. Delivered with a blistering energy, the band and crowd were riding the high of celebration and no one could help themselves from getting down.

With a slight pause for libation, an upbeat, Moseley driven “Sirens” thundered out front with its drone and stomp. With the lyric I just want to say I love, And make sure you feel it everyday was met with a flurry of recognition and applause. Jason Hann got to add his Caribbean rap to the middle that resulted in many hands being thrown to the sky.

Making sure that everyone got their turn in the spotlight, the rest of the band paused and paid full attention to the engine room of the group: Michael Travis and Jason Hann. Bathed in pinks and purples and blinding whites, the two took full advantage of the moment, saturating the room in the tribal spirit. The two even took to switching it up, Hann moving over to the kit while Travis man-handled the percussive setup. Under the roar of an appreciative audience, kudos were passed out by the band.

Hollingsworth: “These guys are rocking it! Hardest working band members!”
Nershi: “Give it up for our talented drummers, Michael Travis and Jason Hann.”

Capping the final set of the night and the first set of the new year, “Texas” sealed the deal. Clocking in at sixteen minutes, this was one for the ages. The jam at the interlude built from a slow burn to an apocalyptic firestorm, making up two thirds of the total timing and leaving everyone filled one last time with positive energy and starting the new year off in the most perfect of ways.

Before hitting the encore, Nershi addressed the audience one last time:

“Oh yeah! Thanks so much again for making this such a special night. You all came out in force tonight, line out the door before we even started. Your energy that you are putting out to us, we can feel it for sure! Thanks for making this a real special New Year’s run. We got one more for you here and hope to see a lot more of you in 2023.”

“Shaking The Tree” filled the last spot and came off as deliberate, polished, unhurried. In a year when women’s rights have seen the greatest upset, this one was truly an appropriate closer as much of the fanbase are female. Pulling in the fold once again with emotion and light, the band connected in its final moments of the event with this one centered on a woman’s right to self-determination and self-expression.

Although The String Cheese Incident performed only 29 shows this past year, the band certainly fired on all cylinders for this last night of the solar cycle. Their positive vibe came across as authentic and undisputed and reminded those that don’t see the band as often as they could have, they certainly should make it a point to come out for more in 2023 as the magic and kindred spirit are still alive and well. This fact is not just limited to the band, but encompasses those people devoted to the good life who think of Cheese shows, night after night throughout the year, as home.

Taking a macroscopic perspective to the live music experience, one evident fact rings true: it seems to be going on every day of the year. Although many plan for days, weeks, and months in advance to make it to the special event that has caught their attention, sometimes the last minute, improvised outing proves to contain a great reward and surprise.

On December 31st, I stood outside of The Mission Ballroom waiting to get inside for the annual String Cheese Incident festivities and as I waited for the doors to open, I thought of those who had helped pave the way in the last 365 days in my continued pursuit of photographically capturing the live moment. As I remembered the bands, the publicists, the road managers, I texted everyone that came across my mind and wished them well on this special night and thanked them for their part in making my life what it is.

As I reflected on the fact that we don’t get through this life alone, I recalled a special night at Ophelia’s this past spring where I had the opportunity to cover Jillian and Bill Nershi. The evening turned into a family affair as their daughter Lauren sat in, covering for Billy who had lost his voice. As I recapped the Elvis glasses, the toasting from the stage, the look of love displayed from parents to progeny in the shared moment, I reflected on how the opportunity had come to be. I remembered requesting the photo pass and then being told to reach out to Billy’s road manager Ross for the green light. I recall firing up the old text machine and quickly got the response in the affirmative that I could cover the show. Although I love shooting the big stages, often what gets me going after decades of chasing this dream is capturing the intimate venues where I am the only photographer and the feeling of work stress is replaced with familiarity and freedom. Arriving early to the downtown speakeasy, I shot a text the road manager, inquiring about a group photo and a few minutes later Ross responds stating that the band is passing but are looking forward to the show and the moments captured. At this point I ask Ross for his email so that I can send some images over for the good Nershi people afterwards to use and a couple minutes later my phone dings. I look down to see that the email address is for a name I clearly recognize and I get excited because this guy is a stellar player who has shared the sonic energy with some of the best and brightest: Ross James.

Reliving that evening on a mind reel standing outside The Mission, I promptly sent a message to Mr. James, wishing him a happy new year and thanking him for his kindness. A few minutes later, the buzz of my pocket prompted investigation and there was Ross wishing me in kind and inviting me out to cover his latest collaborative effort with Eric Krasno and Alex Koford in downtown Denver. Well, no one says no to an invite like that and without a second thought I typed out Sign Me Up!

Exiting The Mission, I made straight for my car, cameras still strapped to my chest, and drove a couple of miles to Knew Conscious, a members only lounge, bar, and music venue. As I hit the front door, I was relieved to hear only conversation, indicating that I hadn’t missed much. I was greeted by two gentlemen dressed in three-piece suits and wide smiles. I stated my business and explained that I should be on the list. Always expecting the bump in the road, I stood relieved when the concierge scrolled the list, found my name, wished me well, and pulled back the velvet curtain, pointing me towards the green room, granting me entrance into the inner sanctum of this new experience.

Still riding the high on The Cheese, I felt like I was glowing and made my way down front and passed the backstage guard with a smile and a handful of cameras. This gentleman only nodded and waved me through. Breaking through a second set of curtains, I run right into the trio I was about to photograph and it was apparent, their pre-set meeting. Not wanting to bother, I made eye contact with Ross, reminded him my name and intent, thanked him for the hook up, wished them all well, and quickly turned my happy ass around and staked out a place on the front row, giddy as a school kid.

It must be stated here that I had no idea what the theme of the collaboration was going to be. I literally was going off the invite text alone and the promise of the players. In times past, I have remarked that catching a one off or infrequent collaboration can sometimes be wrought with error, even in light of the best musicians so expectations weren’t high. That stated, I am a big fan of Ross’ playing and Krasno often takes the cake, and as far as Koford is concerned, I knew he was a notable player, but was one I had never had the opportunity to see. All this combined made me hopeful that what was about to happen would be tasty and well worth the effort. Plus, how often does one get to go from one event to another in two separate years in one evening?

With only a few minutes passing between my backstage moment and my current state on the front row, crouched in between the floor monitors, the trio took to the stage to a sparse but excited crowd. Krasno took a moment to thank everyone for coming out for a late-night set and hoped everyone enjoyed the rest of the evening. With that, the group jumped into Jimi Hendrix’s “Stone Free”. The three nailed it note for note and the soloing was energetic and electric. Kosford clamored with intent on the kit and the band sounded substantially well-rehearsed. As the Jimi tune hit the climax, out of nowhere Ross rained down thunder, launching into “Shakedown Street '' to the delight of the audience. With this one, the new year day dance party was on and in this tiny venue, we were all getting treated to an unexpected wonder. The Band of Gypsys’ “Them Change” came up next in the rotation and continued to melt faces. At this point, I had to pinch myself because this group seriously sounded oh so good and my inner child was doing cartwheels of joy getting to capture this potentially lost moment in time.

When Jimi turned Dead once again, I finally recognized the thread and thanked my lucky stars that I had reached out to the gracious Ross James. Segueing into “New Minglewood Blues”, the night rolled on. The crowd finally filled in and dancing room finally became standing room only as the band just added arrow after arrow to the setlist, transitioning from “Little Wing” to “Ramble On Rose” to “Voodoo Child”. The foxiest of “Foxy Lady(s)” led to a firestorm of amazement shifting into “Scarlet Begonias” then through “Fire” and “Third Stone From the Sun” before closing the run with Scarlet’s standard pairing “Fire On the Mountain”. Taking a breath and thanking the crowd again, the band introduced themselves and the name of this latest collaboration as Jimi’s Dead, an obviously appropriate title. “The Wind Cries Mary” shifted into an upbeat “They Love Each Other” and the band continued to show no signs of fatigue even though we were inching closer to the dawn. To close the set, and what a set it was, Krasno led the room through “Hey Joe” eventually throttling up into “Help On The Way”. Koford handled vocal duties on this one and the subsequent “Slipknot” that followed was well worth the price of admission alone. “Slipknot” finally gave way to “Manic Depression” and at its close, the band brought everyone in to sing along on “Franklin’s Tower”. Thanking Knew Conscious and the patrons who were willing to stay up all night, the band rewarded those left standing with a “Purple Haze / Turn on Your Lovelight” double encore that filled the room with energy and light from the inside out.

Walking past the curtain to the green room one last time, my face exhausted with joy, I turned to the three wise men and thanked them one by one for the new year gift given. Finally ready to rest, I made my way through the hall, out into the winter morning, and drove home, realizing that this night was only day one of the next 365, and that 2023 was already off to a great start.

In mid-January, Denver Comes Alive put on their annual celebration in the RiNo district of Denver, bringing out a whole host of incredible players and drawing near capacity crowds for solid lineups that left audiences reminded what a great event this is. Over the course of two nights, fans were treated to individually themed parties with Friday getting the jamgrass treatment and Saturday getting the funk. Friday’s stringed extravaganza saw the likes of a great opener in the talented Maggie Rose followed by the powerful WinterWonderWomen. As the evening continued to get heated, Kitchen Dwellers came out next and got the crowd set for the headlining main event: Yonder Mountain String Band.

For anyone who has followed newgrass, jamgrass, and the like, few names echo in the hall of history as those who put genre- and note-bending talent to the test and Yonder Mountain surely resonates as one of the loudest. For anyone who doesn’t know or for those who have forgotten, YMSB was birthed out of the Rocky Mountain collective nearly three decades ago and from the beginning, they have incessantly redefined, restructured, and downright refused to quit in pursuing the outer limits of that high lonesome sound. With this in mind, the last six months has certainly backed this fact with even more success, as the group not only received their first long overdue Grammy nomination for their latest creation Get Yourself Outside, but were also invited to be inducted into the Colorado Music Hall of Fame. With back-to-back wins orbiting an already on fire conglomerative talent, it was no wonder that by the time the band took the stage, The Mission Ballroom was packed wall-to-wall to get the good stuff by the veterans who know how to Elevate the room.

With a great, recognition filled introduction by Ari Fink, Ben Kaufmann stepped to the microphone to thank everyone for their support and express the gratitude of all the artists on the bill for “the tremendous vibe” the audience was throwing out. With a raucous applause, Ben took a moment to introduce the fiddle choice of the evening, Jason Carter from The Del McCoury Band sitting in stage left. With that out of the way, Yonder got it all started with “Out of the Blue”. Chopping it out on the mando and strong vocals, Nick Picinninni drove this quality version from start to finish with the rest of the quintet getting a chance to shine in the soloing spotlight. “Boatman’s Dance” contained some great dueling towards the end between Nick and Jason Carter on mando and fiddle, respectively. Adam Ajala laid out some great flat picking while Dave Johnston rolled it out claw hammer style. Before starting the next tune, Ben got a shout out from Adam and before starting the next one, Ben remarked,”Thank you, thank you. I am playing you the oldest one I got”. With that, “40 Miles From Denver” was up next and was well received as both Yonder classic and as an observance of where the crowd was catching a staple of the band’s canon since 1998. Taking his turn behind the wheel, Adam was the first to give the crowd some of the band’s newness with “I Just Can’t”. Putting pep in the step, this high tempo, short and sweet piece got everyone moving.

With so much talent in the house, it was only a matter of time that this band with an open door for collaboration would wait to start pulling from the A-list waiting backstage. Songstress vocal powerhouse Lindsay Lou and banjo whiz Billy Failing got the first call. Contributing on a notable “What the Night Brings”, the talent meter turned northward a few notches and embodied the true spirit of Denver Comes Alive. Nick and Adam added great harmonies to Lindsay’s lead, making the vocal portion so rich and full. Strings shredded, eyes and ears widened, and hearts warmed all the way to end.

At this point, Lindsay graciously bowed out, thanking her hosts for having her. Continuing on, Ben joked,” We decided to keep Billy up here for the remainder. Maybe he wanted to leave, I don’t know, but too bad, you got to stay!”, grinning over at Billy with an impish grin. Gazing out over the crowd a bit more serious, Ben described the next choice as “having always existed in the Yonder Mountain ethos. It's sort of like the great equalizer, all courtesy of a shot of Jagermeister.” Calling out to the hills, Nick started up “If There's Still Ramblin in the Rambler”. Equipped with the usual Jagermeister pause, Dave and Ben quipped:

Dave: ”Hey Ben, Can we cheers The Mission Ballroom?”
Ben: ”Yes we can. Would you like to?”
Dave: “Cheers to The Mission Ballroom!”
Ben: “It’s not Jagermeister anymore because we’re not maniacs! Cheers!”
Dave: “Pure grain alcohol!”

With raised glasses containing heaven only knows what and a reciprocated toast from the audience, the band left the “Ramblin’” piece unfinished, moving into Ben’s lead on “Looking Back Over My Shoulder”. Following an extended solo from Nick, Billy succeeded greatly with a tasty banjo showing of his own. Adam kept the sweet solos flowing and his nimble tricks would have impressed Tony Rice himself. Jason flowed over the bow like sweet wine, the cup of The Mission running over. Dave took the final turn and climbed the mountain without pumping the brakes, eventually leading to Ben’s vocal return for the closing stanza.

Pulling another from the band’s 1999 album Elevation, Ben remained at the helm for “On The Run”, a tale of a man running from the law because of the ultimate crime: he had slept with the sheriff’s wife. Slipping off the traditional, Nick employed some distortion for the fiery centerpiece of this one. The upbeat conversation eventually loosened and the moan of Jason’s fiddle resonated out over the crowd. Getting in on the fun, Nick set aside the mando and banded together with his string brother on a second violin and casually sidled up to Jason’s end of the stage. The two called out to one another, blended, parted ways, and just dazzled everyone paying them attention. As that magic ball that hangs from The Mission ceiling turned colors and came to life, the band dropped into an anything but traditional take on the standard “Cherokee Shuffle”. This acoustic meltdown ran on all cylinders and eventually gave way to a chunky and tight bass solo from Ben, although many felt it was cut too short and would love to hear more out of those magic fingers. Ramping back up, the group returned for the second part of “On the Run” and Jason peeled the paint with distortion as the room sizzled with insanity and split bow hairs in the best of ways. Although it appeared that the end of the tune would lead to the band’s next opportunity to get a breath, with their final unified note to signify the end, the whole, without a slip, sped right back into the finish of the incomplete “If There’ Still Ramblin in the Rambler”.

Giving everyone a moment of solace and reflection, Dave sweetened the pot with his lead on “Suburban Girl”. This melancholy tale of young love filled the room with love and innocence and he even added a little something unrehearsed for the middle, pausing as his brothers played on:
    
I haven’t forgotten the lyrics
I’m standing here thoughtfully
Contemplating the lovely Rhythms and counter-rhythms and counterpoints
Of what is happening
Subtlety and harmony, melody and time
You don’t get that in the suburbs, you get it in RiNo though
I’m kind of doing that whole Bob Dylan thing where I talk, make funny remarks
Adam is getting….he is like, “Would you just sing the god damned song, Dave?”
I’m like yeah, yeah I think I will do it right now

With all of its imagery and warm tone, the structure of this new piece once again exemplified the diverse abilities of this incredible band.

Keeping the show rolling, the band welcomed out another positive force in the spirited Tyree Woods. Buffalo Commons frontman and official artist-at-large for night one of DCL, Reverend Woods stepped center stage with his infectious smile and called out to the audience:

Hey everybody!
How is everybody doing out there?
How is everybody feeling out there?
How is everybody living out there?
So if you are feeling good and you are living right, put your arms in the air for me. Just like this, just like this, and shake them around a little bit, move them around! Feel good with it, feel good brothers and sisters!

As the congregation raised their hands to heaven and the preacher joined them in rapture, Brother Woods took everyone through the traditional gospel sermon of “Jesus on the Mainline”. The infectious joy that this number delivered had even the band smiling and bobbing. Swinging in the opposite direction, leaving the sanctity and security of the spiritual, “Ragdoll” kept Tyree on stage, charging the lyrics and belting out the cautionary tale over the sultry groove of this piece.

Pulling out another traditional bluegrass tune and certainly a long-time staple in the Yonder catalog, “Raleigh and Spencer” got the overdrive treatment before dissolving into the revolving groove of “Nowhere Next”. Ben’s bass drove the unsettling drone of this original as Adam and Nick’s ethereal vocals made this one otherworldly. Adam eventually took to distortion and ground out the grit as the group achieved liftoff for the outer limits before finally sealing the deal and returning into the closing portion of “Raleigh and Spencer”. The crowd left with sweat, smiles, and energized, cheered for more, the band leaving the stage beaming as widely as those they had just leveled.

Closing out the evening with a great singalong, the band threw out the 1970’s hit “Dancing in the Moonlight” and invited Tyree Woods to share lead vocals, swapping out sections with Nick, while Ben and Adam added harmonies. After back-to-back banjo solos from Dave and Billy, Nick eased the pace and dug deep with a little more soulful playing before closing it out.

In the end, night one of Denver Comes Alive was an overall success. Bands and listeners alike shared a great night supporting each other as well as the non-profit Backline and both groups certainly ensured that this regular weekend of celebration will continue on in the future. Choosing Yonder Mountain String Band as the closer was more than appropriate and, by what many saw on Friday, they continue to show that they are current, ablaze, and still contributing to the scene, sound, and experience of the genre they helped to create. Neither footnote nor afterthought, with all the recent awards and their downright great playing and attitudes, catching this group in 2023 is certainly a must and with an alternating talent joining them throughout the year in the fifth stage spot, the unexpected is sure to happen, making whatever happens next for the band even more exciting and full of potential.

Friday night, I got the invite to travel to The Fox Theatre in Boulder to see the up-and-coming Buffalo Commons. Formed in 2017 and originating out of Steamboat Springs, Colorado, it is hardly a surprise that yet another stringed talent has again emerged from the Rocky Mountains. Whether it is the existence of already a veritable plethora of players here in the Centennial State or those long winter months where friends and family are hold up and have the opportunity to play together or maybe it is the culmination of these factors including the laid back vibe that so many support, whatever the formula, Colorado has done it again.

Fronted by veteran of love and war, Tyree Woods delivers on the aptly titled genre of the band ‘soulgrass’ with powerful vocals, emotional lyrics, and that “make you want to get up and move your feet” fire that has crowds doing just that. His guitar playing is fluid and his abilities can handle both structure and solo, making this gentle giant a tour de force that can last the night.

Handling the deep end, Denton Turner carries a flat affect, but his delivery on the standup bass is anything but. From fierce finger plucking to letting loose on the bow, this man’s talent is noticeable from the get go. Often playing with his eyes closed, Turner seems to put his energy into every moment and what he pulls off is compelling and unique, making the anchor of the group a loud, discernable voice in the musical conversation.

Mando-shreddist Eric Baker makes quick work of whatever is thrown at him. His rhythm chopping is right on time while his leads are error-free and tasty. When he gets going, the rest of the band is happy to smile on and watch him dig into the moment with a kid grin as he throws down.

Randy Kelley is the senior of the group, but what he puts out on stage just shows that age is a mindset. From sawing it out on the fiddle to blazing away on the electric guitar, this guy has a bag of tricks that would make Mary Poppins oh so jealous. His calm demeanor is probably more an effort in energy conservation so that he can channel every bit of himself into the creativity he lays out on that stage.

Keeping time for the band is Tyler Cain. Employing a kit that is anything but standard, this chronograph plays on a swivel, keeping it interesting with not only snare and tom, but also incorporating djembe and a multitude of percussive instruments. If he isn’t moving in some direction, it means the band is on break. A stout gentleman, he executes the simple and delicate as well as the thunder without effort and is a perfect fit to all his bandly brothers.

Rolling it out on the banjo, Danjo Harris is, plainly stated, an energizer on stage. From mobilizing from one end of the stage to the other, egging on his fellow players, to standing on drum risers, to jumping up and down, to staring straight up past the roof to the skies above as he pours his heart through his instrument, this guy just doesn’t stop. Although one might think this would become too much through a performance, it simply doesn’t. It is easy to see that the rest of the group feeds off his infectious positivity and are more than happy to engage in a soloing duel or push him for greater heights.

Altogether, Friday night was a sweet treat of talent, good times, and a breath of fresh air in quality music and lyrics. The band infused many themes outside of bluegrass throughout the evening, including funk, gospel, Motown, and jazz. The term soulgrass fits this form to a tee and anyone who saw the performance would agree that whatever this quintet is playing has got soul in spades. Listening to their inaugural album Patterns after the show, it was great to hear that what was produced on stage was just as polished as their studio work and that their ability to transition between tunes and improvise was equally on point. Looking at their website, there are only three current dates posted and one has to wonder “why”? The world and the herd need more Buffalo Commons! So, if you see this band is playing, make an effort to catch them because what you will see is nothing short of an uplifting experience with a different twist that will leave you wanting more. Let’s support this versatile animal because heaven knows we don’t need another endangered species.

Following a great night of Phil and Friends at The Mission Ballroom Saturday night, the icing on the cake would be the afterparty taking place down the road at the exclusive social club Knew Conscious. Billed as Electric Dead Grass, this collaboration promised to bring together the powerhouse talent of the inexplicable force that is Ross James, banjo fury Andy Thorn, thundering cheshire Mark Levy, and Octo-handed deity channeler Garrett Sayers for a performance that blended exactly what the name intended. Now before we get to the sweet delight that would carry on into the wee hours of the morning, the unique and special dynamics of this venue must be addressed.

According to their mission statement, Knew Conscious is defined as “a non-profit, membership-based music venue, art gallery and social club, for artists, by artists, supporting inspiration through collective creative expression”. Although similar ventures tout many of these same dynamics, the vibe going on inside these walls certainly lives up to this credo and is nothing short of alive, warm, and inviting, creating an environment where the inner world often reaches outer space.

Housed in an unassuming single-story building at Lawrence and Broadway just north of Downtown Denver, this simple brick-and-mortar edifice opens up on the inside to the unexpected. Passing through the entryway, attendees are met by a host of professional and courteous concierges who genuinely seem to care about all who enter. Offering direction and a complimentary coat check, these Conscious guides are the beginning of the journey inward and appear more than content to help patrons on their way. When they are satisfied that they have addressed any need, visitors are then directed down a velvet lined hallway and enter the first of the venue’s two distinct rooms.

The lounge, a rectangular space with interspersed couches and high-top tables, provides a relaxed place to socialize away from the performance portion of the club. Psychedelic art lines the walls and hardwood floors and exposed brick finish out the room. Capped with high ceilings, it feels as though there is more than enough breathing room, even when the place starts to fill up. At the opposite end from the entrance lies a pass through leading into the musical side of things. The decor here is much the same, with an open floor layout near the stage and more tables towards the back. A libations counter splits the room and its central location helps in serving both those who wish to envelop themselves in music and dance, while also considering those who would rather sit, converse, and take in the aural affair from afar.

From a staff perspective, the hospitality demonstrated by the concierges that serve as the face of this locale continues on to the back of the house. From bartender to security, to manager and owner, each person employed is representing their best selves and loving every moment of what they are doing. Outwardly, anyone associated with KW carries a smile and is accessible, armed with an proactive outlook and desire to make this place the best it can be. All of these dynamics combined make Knew Conscious the premier place in Denver to catch magic and in the early hours of Sunday, those lucky enough to pass through its hallowed doors did just that.

Leaving straight from The Mission Ballroom and arriving a little past midnight, Knew Conscious was sparsely populated, but it didn’t take long for the Phil Lesh and Billy Strings concert crowds to come rapping at the door. When the time finally came to get it all started, the band got it going with a rousing and unique rendition of “Rosalee McFall”. From the get-go, all players were on point, tight, and visibly happy to be playing to the crowd that was slowly building. Between Ross James’ vocal power of conviction and Andy Thorn’s sweet rolling melodies, the crowd was warmed from the inside out. Supporting, but certainly no afterthought in the least, Garrett Sayers presence was certainly felt from the start, laying out the low end and shaking the bones of those shaking their own. Driving the skins and stirring the soup, Mark Levy completed the recipe for this tasty delight and, by the look on his face, he was enjoying himself just as much as those out front.

After a brief inquiry into the condition of the crowd, Andy stated that the next song “is about a pig” and with that the quartet got into “Pig in a Pen”. With Ross shredding and Andy chasing, this fun number reached some great heights and even provided Garrett an opportunity for a quick bass solo that was far from being short on notes and packed enough that at the close of the tune, both Ross and Andy simultaneously gave a shout out to the bass extraordinaire, which received a reciprocal recognition from the audience.

Andy continued, “If any of our picker’s friends are out there, they can come up whenever they feel like it really. Let’s get some of our buddies up here. We don’t want to keep them up too late so we are going to get right at it.” On cue, a dark figure entered from backstage and with that Andy welcomed, “Billy Failing on the banjo!” A moment later, a second guest appeared, this time fiddler shredder and cosmonaut Alex Hargreaves took his post with violin to chin and nodded to the others that he was ready to go. These guests lit the room on fire and everyone in the know Knew that this evening was going to be one of those special ones that live in the ethos of the music community as myth and legend.

“Jack-a-roe” was the tune of choice to bring the guests into the fold and being the gentlemen they are, the host gave over the first solos to Alex and Billy, respectively. Ross handled vocals for this one and for the first half, the traditional number stayed within its usual context, but somewhere at its midpoint, about five minutes in, the group loosened and gave itself over to the jam, filling the space with a mixture of space, time, and the echo of the abstract. Now with a slower rhythm, Ross turned the team back to the vocals and sang another stanza at the pared down cadence. As he drifted through line after line, singing with intention, he finally reached the end of the section and drove down four heavy notes like nails and brought the pace back up to its original time, allowing for one more ecstatic jam before the final set of lyrics and the big finish left many in the crowd laughing with delight and merriment.

With a band full of smiles and raised eyebrows, Andy kept the energy flowing and led the room through a great rendition of “Catfish John”. Billy Failing got first dibs on the solo and nary a hip was still throughout his southerly jaunt. Andy jumped in next on the electric banjo and threw in some weird for good measure, the two kindred spirits smiling and laughing in unity. Ross jumped in next and rocked the house with some great distortion before giving it over to Alex who brought it back to the traditional with some great sawing. Garrett got yet another opportunity to lay out an extended and tasty solo that had both hands and all fingers moving like spiders up and down the fretboard, making it look oh so easy. At the end, Andy stated, “That was f*#king perfect! Give it up for Billy and Alex here. Thank you for staying up late”, sentiments the crowd outwardly supported.

“Althea” got going with an intro that was hinted at “Jack Straw” and showcased Alex leading the way, his fiddle sounding more horn than string. Ross again handled vocal duties and took the first solo, employing a watery effect, the dual banjos supporting the meandering river of plenitude. Getting another chance at the spotlight, Alex hit an extended outing, full of bright fills and climbs that warmed listeners from the inside out. The conclusion centered on Andy and Billy going at each other, reaching dizzying heights and finally shutting it down with a belly full of cheer.

With Billy and Alex finally leaving the stage at half past one in the morning, Andy recognized,” Give it up for Billy Failing on the banjo, Alex Hargreaves on the fiddle. These guys just did a three-night run and they are out here jamming with us!”

“Brown-Eyed Women” kept the feel-good times going and was warmly welcomed by a now very full room. Andy got going with an impressive solo in the middle and rolled out line after line, sending many into a dancing frenzy as the rest of the band smiled, laughed, and egged him on.

Finishing yet another hot take, Ross took over the microphone, “Well, we got another friend who is going to join us here” and with that none other than Billy Strings walked on stage. Smiling with that infectious smile he carries, he looked down on the front row, raised his eyebrows, turned to his band mates and got things going with “Big River”. With Ross singing and the whole of the group beaming, everyone knew that KW was the place to be. Strings got first take on the instrumental and looked more than happy to be playing on this tiny stage. Andy rounded things out next followed by a shredfest from Ross that had Billy visibly enjoying himself and loving every moment.

Jimmy Cliff’s “Sitting In Limbo” was the next venture of choice with Andy handling the vocals. Andy offered up the first solo to Billy and that good ol’ boy delivered. Tender and full of emotion, Billy’s phrasing just opened the heart of the room. Andy’s banjo came in a strong second and kept the joy cup overflowing. Getting in on the action, Ross put to work the wah pedal and spiced things up. Billy back at the helm, added his own flavor with some flamenco-styled lines before laying into a flat-picking tear. Engaging some minor chords and setting the structure on tilt, Andy jumped into the oddity and Billy and Andy exchanged note for note, line for line simultaneously, trying to top each other and waiting to see who was going to blink first. When they finally broke, laughing at each other, the room erupted. Andy called on the bass and drums next to get some spotlight time before the whole of the group shut the fifteen-minute version down.

Check out more photos from the show.

WATCH THE REBROADCAST HERE

On February 3rd, Billy Strings completed the second of three nights at the 1st Bank Center in Broomfield, Colorado. Capping out at 6,500, this venue with great sight lines, private suites, and a whole lotta comfort was packed wall to wall without feeling crowded, filled to the brim with the smiling faces and hearts that travel near and far to catch Billy and Company.

Arriving a few hours before doors, there was already a pillar of people staking their claim in line to have the opportunity to get down on the general admission floor, while a second line was as equally apparent, populated with those looking to fulfill the need for merch. Walking through both lines, it was great to catch conversational snippets of these fine folks sharing their excitement for what was to come as well as their stories of yesteryear, all reinforcing that the Strings phenomenon is not just a flash in the pan, but carries its own culture and community.

With doors opening at half past six, a third of the floor filled quickly and the conversations continued. Hugs and joy were the commodity and everyone was sharing in it. Some sat, others stood, while all nodded and smiled at strangers and familiar faces alike. The positive energy was palpable and the music hadn’t even started yet. As the hands of time circled the face, a little before eight, a swirling tye-dye graphic appeared on the back drop screen and was accompanied by a distorted, repeating voice from the speakers, “15 minutes until fuzzy rainbows, 15 minutes until fuzzy rainbows”, a sight and sound that elicited a giddy response. This display continued, reappearing every five minutes until it was finally showtime.

Walking on to an explosive, enduring applause, Billy stood at the microphone and paused, looking out over the excited crowd. Taking it all in with a face full of appreciation, he finally waved at the fanfare and greeted everyone with a simple, “Hello there!”

Glancing around the stage to make sure the rest of the band was good to go, the group took off running with a great “Dusty Miller”. Hitting all the marks, the quintet burned through the instrumental and got everyone to their feet. In perfect juxtaposition, the emotional “While I’m Waiting Here” got some great jamming and with its reflective, heartfelt lyrics, many were singing right along. Turning the ending and the crowd on their heels with a quick shift in perfect time, Robert Hunter’s “Thunder” electrified the room, full of bright flashes and searing jams, this one would be the longest tune of the set, coming in at just under fourteen minutes and encompassed chaos, gentleness, and everything in between.

With everyone reeling from the musical outpouring, Billy stepped to the microphone to check in with the crowd:

Yeah baby! You guys feeling good? Feels like you’re feeling good. I’m feeling good. Let’s all feel good together! Thank you so much for coming out to hear some music tonight. We are so honored to be here to play it for you. We’re gonna play a little bit of bluegrass for you right now.

The group then took the room through a sweet triad of Appalachia with “How Long Have I Been Waiting For You”, “Secrets”, and “Hellbender”, each filled with top notch playing, inspired harmonies, and that high lonesome sound.

Showing off the talent of the band with a shift, a cover of The Bad Livers’ “Lumpy, Beanpole, and Dirt” changed the atmosphere from Sunday picnic to Friday night swagger with its hip shaking, bluesy drive. Billy Failing got the first chance at rolling out the solos and boy did that resonator sing! Alex Hargreaves picked up where Failing ended and masterfully cut through that fiddle, eyes closed and smiling. Jarrod Walker shredded an extended lead on mando and brought Billy back into the lyrics with an excited crowd who just kept boogieing down. Royal Masat’s masterful bass work kept the whole piece thumping as the unit climbed mountains and slid through valleys, cohesive and on target, noticeably blissing out on the endeavor.

The sweet drone of “In The Morning Light” received a very warm welcome from the crowd. For many, these personal songs of Billy’s really get the heart strings and goosebumps going. The accessibility and emotional movement of the piece empties the soul and fills it up again, over and over.

Loving to share the history of the band, Billy took a moment to give some backstory to the crowd:

Our last record we made together as a band, Renewal…… we had a really good time coming up with the songs for it. It was one of the first times we kind of held up together in a cabin somewhere and tried to come up with some music together as a band. It was awesome, we had a good time. We watched movies, we ate pizza. We found a little ID card underneath the couch and it turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to any of us. Because, within that little ID card that we found under the couch was one of the funniest little fiddle tunes that we ever could think of. We are talking about the one, the only, “Libby Phillips Rag”!

And with that, the band and crowd jumped in. Flat picking like someone was chasing him, Billy tore into this one and everyone held on for the ride. At its end, Billy recognized Jarrod Walker’s equally remarkable mando slaying, raising a smile from Walker and an applause from the onlookers.

The darker feel of “Fire Line” lit the crowd up, igniting the fanbase with strong lyrics, deep grooves, and a thick structure. Hargreaves’ violin talents tilted the temperature upward, employing a synth effect, fanning the flames higher and higher before the reprieve of the final stanza. Lyrics out of the way, the final minute of the piece got spacey under the influence of Hargreaves, changing his voice from synth to celestial. As “Fire Line” dwindled into cosmic ashes, the band rose again through the Failing penned and led “So Many Miles”. Strings put on another flat-picking clinic early on before this one began to drift and shift. This time, Failing engaged his five-stringed mesmeric machine of morph and took center stage, leading the space exploration with short rolling blasts and infinite lines, liftoffs and descents, the rest of the band pushing it all to the limit. Without a breath and edging the tempo ever skyward, it was no wonder that band closed the three song jamfest with a great cover of Pink Floyd’s “Brain Damage”. Playing it at least twice as fast as the original authors ever did, the recognizable piece had the whole of the room dancing, laughing like lunatics, and living their best lives.

Set two opened with a bright and full “Hollow Heart" and with a set break and a chance to revitalize behind them, the crowd was certainly ready for more. An energetic rendering of Pearl Jam’s “In Hiding” came in next and Billy emulated Vedder’s phrasings remarkably well. John Hartford’s “With a Vamp in the Middle" kept the party moving and with all the fiddle references in the tune, Hargreaves got a lot of spotlight time. As Hartford faded in the rearview, “Love and Regret” came up on the horizon. As Billy sang the first lyrics, the whole venue sang right along and reveled on queue when the “heartbroken, lonesome coyote howls” lyric arrived, baying in unison. The mid-section solo produced by Strings was deep, touching, and flowed like sweet wine. From single notes to fanning strums, his creativity fit neatly in the perfect frame of what his partners were putting up. As the tune drew to a close, he welcomed the audience to take over the lyrics as he fell silent and let the listeners lead the room.

Pausing for a drink and an opportunity to cheers the crowd, the band picked up the pace once again with the high stepping “Everything’s the Same”. “West Dakota Rose” was another great example that this group of gentlemen is a band of equals and although Billy’s name is the one hanging on the establishment, pieces like this offer the opportunity for these players to fully demonstrate their musicianship and no one is stepping on each other’s lines.

Checking in with the audience, Billy belted out, “Are we having any fun tonight, Denver?!?! We love playing out here. It almost feels like HOME!”, followed with a wide grin and a reciprocating ovation. With that, the vibration and rumble of “Home” brought an other-worldly feel to the set, touching on the psychedelic and unsettling.

Stopping again to share, Billy introduced the band and followed up with his personal feelings on the subsequent Doc Watson number:

We don’t play it much or anything, but it is such a beautiful song. I think it is on the Portrait album. This song has my favorite dobro solo in the world by Jerry Douglas on it. So later on when you all get home and you feel like finding the best dobro solo in the world, just listen to the Doc Watson Portrait album and look up the song “Leaving London”, find the dobro on that, and that will give you a little twinge in the end of your nipples….and I will stand on that flux!”

Following Watson’s “Leaving London”, Billy kicked up Carter Stanley’s “Think of What You’ve Done” next and changed the Virginia lyric to Colorado, the alteration met with the expected response as everyone cheered and dug in deeper. The instrumental “Running the Route” shifted and slinked through a multitude of attitudes, at times traditional, at others jazz. Regardless of the flavor, the whole thing was just plain tasty. Reaching the end, the band proved again their talent at seamless transition, dropping in from the Route right into “Running”. The change was downright perfect and seemed executed without a preceding context or anchor. Incredible!

Gordon Lightfoot’s “Whispers of the North” just continued the mastery of the night. After performing at break-neck speeds on the prior back-to-back tunes, the delivery on this cover just restated what so many have already figured out about the inexhaustible formative force that is this quartet. Laying it out with just as much verve as they did from the start and playing the Lightfoot tune for only the second time ever since last year, these artisans proved their caliber once again at their medium. The finish of the arrangement meandered and bobbed through accents and imagery, a variable wellspring of creation. The last minute lit the fuse for a slow burn that climbed to the big finish of “Meet at the Creek”. Timing out at over twelve minutes of ecstasy and energy, this one brought the house down. The barn burner got everyone stomping at the foot and chomping at the bit as the band and fans were back off to the races. The middle peaked at dizzying heights, transformed into a straight rocker, pulled out all the stops, and just when you thought it was over, it just kept lifting the room higher. Drenched in sweat and joy, when the room finally came to a stop, nothing but smiles were found in any direction one looked. The band paused in the wake and took a moment to witness the emotion they had bestowed.

The encore took it back to the traditional, closing out the night with the instrumental “Sally Goodin”, which eventually fed into the Johnny Horton cover of “Ole Slew Foot”. With eight minutes of final fun, the crowd called out for more until the house lights came on and with sweet glee on their faces, they made their way into the February night.

From the sparkle in their eyes to the cadence in their tone, this band demonstrates appreciation to the Nth degree. Their talent has shown no bounds and their presence is a blend of professionalism and awe by where they are. On and off stage, they present as brothers and watching them exchange, it is apparent that the connection is more than skin deep. It seems that the love of music is first and foremost with a love for those who turn out nightly to take in their acoustic acrobatics a close second and it is likely the combination of the two that holds the key to their success. Admittedly, this was my first experience with the whole of The Billy Strings Band and from fan to performance, I was impressed through and through. There is palpable energy and positivity that is surrounding this creative machine and at many turns, the outlook is towards longevity. From keeping ticket prices reasonable and accessible alongside a merchandise practice model that keeps the end user in mind, the whole of the experience leading up to the main event breathes with life. Once inside, the relative newness of the experience keeps everyone engaged, regardless of age or number of shows attended. There are no jaded vets, only people enjoying people watching people getting their faces melted and loving every minute of it.

For the first weekend of February, Denver’s Mission Ballroom once again became a mecca for travelers seeking the psychedelic and for those who made the leap of faith, the reward was great. Grateful Dead bassist and living legend Phil Lesh gave the Rino district two nights of splendor, sound, and the opportunity once again to rejoice in community under a blanket of aural pleasantries that would defy expectation. For this stretch in the octogenarian's journey, he brought along some old friends as well as some new faces. The usual suspects included his son Grahame Lesh on guitar and John “The Great White Cloud” Molo on drums, while the new infusion consisted of Goose guitarist Rick Mitarotonda and the Trey Anastasio Horns, namely trombonist Natalie “Chainsaw” Cressman, Jennifer Hartswick on trumpet, and sax man James Casey. Rounding out the octet was past collaborator and multi-instrumentalist of pure talent Jason Crosby.

Saturday night got started with a touch of tuning before Phil signaled the group to drop back tonally and, joined by Grahame, Natalie, Jenn, and James, sang out a verse that in DeadHead land historically accompanied a night full of potential realized:

Shall we go, you and I while we can / Through the transitive nightfall of diamonds?

For anyone in the know, getting a show going with “Dark Star” leading the charge meant that everyone in attendance was in for something special. For those who caught the Planet Bluegrass show in September of 2021, this reconfigured “Dark Star” intro was akin to that rendering and that fall day would mark the first time the band had led with an a capella intro to the psychedelic staple. With only a single lyrical line, the band jammed on the theme for a few minutes and returned to earth in the form of an upbeat “Ripple”, a “Rockin’ Ripple” according to the paper setlist hanging above Molo’s floor tom, Phil handling vocals and brightening the room.

Next up was “Ship of Fools” sung so sweetly by Rick Mitarotonda. Without much of an intro, Rick seemed eager to get right into the lyrics. Although his delivery was heartfelt, the band seemed to rush it a bit, leaving very little in the way of interlude. “Jack Straw” was a direct one-eighty from its predecessor and got the full treatment. Containing a lengthy beginning and great interplay between the guitars and Crosby’s piano, this one was off to a great start. While Phil and Grahame alternated portions of the lyrics, Nat, Jen, and Casey added bright harmonies to beautiful brass play. The midsection jam downshifted, mellowed, and breathed, allowing for everyone to accent in texture, showing the whole of the group’s mastery in movement. The last four minutes hit pay dirt and had everyone climbing and spinning to the punchy exit of the song.

This fanbase always willing to receive a Lesh gem, Phil was met with raucous applause at the start of “Pride of Cucamonga”, Phil belting out the lyrics and showing the world he is far from going out anytime soon. This outing out a great had the deepest of Phil fans beaming from the inside out with glee. Contributing on the backup, Nat, Jen, and James all lended a hand on the chorus portion of the song. When the number hit the bluesy halfway point, sh*t got deep and thick! Guitars sizzled, horns smoked, and although many wished it would have gone longer, what we got was enough to show the band was so much more than a one-off or a parlor trick.

The frisky feline “China Cat Sunflower” was greeted with loud recognition at that old familiar intro. Rick took another turn at lead vocals, and with eyes closed and his light vibrato, he was noticeably putting his all into this command. The horn arrangement also added a full and triumphant march to the structure. Phil bubbled along, both musically and facially, watching the new school contribute and enjoying every minute of it. The segue section also contained a great Latin flavor from Molo, some great horn arrangements, and a call response section between James Casey on alto and all the other players, each lining up to alternate lines with him. Casey eventually peeled away from the gang and, with arched back and tight face, just wailed! Shifting from south of the border and moving into the delta, Rick returned to the microphone to deliver on a soulful “New Speedway Boogie”, The Mission singing along in unison. Two stanzas of lyrics down and the jam got downright nasty, Rick fanning the flame of the fretboard and the horn sections pushing bursts and pops, upping the fervor of the room as the band stomped through this one.

The end faded off into an a capella round of the One way or another lyric before pausing for the set closer. With the recent passing of David Crosby, Phil and the band took a moment to honor our fallen brother with “Long Time Gone”. What added to the specialness of this choice was this was the first time it had been played under the Phil and Friends flag since 2021 and was Phil’s first public performance since Crosby’s passing. Grahame led the charge on vocals with the rest of the group doing their best to emulate the sweet harmonies of CSN that made this song and that group so special. James took the second stanza and was warmly received, his buttery voice full of emotional, inflection, and umph. Hartswick literally tackled the third lyrical stand, filling that room with power and lightness in the same breath. The middle got loose and Jason eventually stepped up from his organ bench and shredded the fiddle, leaving the crowd clapping and wishing he would have gone for more, his stint much too short. Natalie hit the ball out of the park in the fourth inning and showed she is not a one horn pony, deserving the respect and accolades she received from her lyrical delivery. In the end, the whole band sang the haunting line Appears to be a long time /  Such a long, long, long, long time / Before the dawn in unison and for those near the front, it was clear to see Phil shedding tears in memoriam for the passing of the author. As the applause of the crowd dwindled following the final notes, Phil stepped to the mic, weepy and vocally shaken:

That last one was for my friend, David. Anyway, we are going to take a short break. Turn and talk to the person next to you, share joy, shake hands….enjoy the proximity of your butt. Bye bye.

The set two dance party fired up with a strong and bass Philled “Viola Lee Blues”. Following the initial lyrics, the music shifted and fringed at the edges, reaching for the odd. Wave after wave of minor chaos rolled over the crowd, causing many to close their eyes and climb aboard their inner transport, bound for space. Unsettling in for the nearly four minutes of cosmic swirl, when the band finally dropped back with perfection, the audience audibly thanked them for the discord and discomfort of joy.

As the opener dispersed in its final notes, Mount St. Molo picked up the tempo, a familiar meter, and initiated the “China Cat” partner in “I Know You Rider”.  This gleeful tune got all the warm and uplifting feeling from the six stringed brothers one would expect and with the audience singing along at full volume, the gladness of the room was felt by all, new and old. Of course, with the Cool Colorado rain lyric, the volume only increased with locale recognition. Grahame threw down a great demonstration of his abilities on the slide and continued on past his allotted measures as the crowd egged him on. In the wash of the near a capella closing with everyone singing along, the warm fuzzies and tingling goosebumps spread throughout the ballroom.

For those who have long held that the Philzone is the best place on earth, “Unbroken Chain” was the sweet treat we had all been waiting for. With its odd phrasing and pensive lyrics, this one has always reflected Phil’s ability at composition and power and the jam in the middle got taken over the top. Although some say that Phil’s voice is an acquired taste, those with the discerning palette loved getting to hear the big guy sing this revered number.

Where most versions stop, this ventured on and quickly slid into the warmth of another David Crosby piece “Tamalpais High (At About 3)". The construct and vibe of the horns wrapped the audience in a balmy brass blanket that glowed and ushered in comfort. Rick and Grahame traded off leading and chasing, taking time to answer the calls of Jason as he threw out lines, gazing and grinning at the two. Phil sat back and watched the magic unfold around this storied lyricless piece.
 

Taking a moment here to honor this song and David Crosby, the details around "Tamalpais High (At About 3)" reveal that this tune appeared on Crosby’s 1971 release If I Could Only Remember My Name and was written in the wake of the highly impactive death of Crosby’s deepest love, Christine Hinton. As the tale goes, Crosby spent much of his time following this tragedy held up in Wally Heider Studios in San Francisco, creating and playing music, to escape the pain he was attempting to endure. Throughout this period, he invited a multitude of bay area friends to come in and contribute to open jam sessions that would later be the end result of the tunes of the album. Among them included Joni Mitchell, members of Jefferson Airplane, and of course who else but members of The Grateful Dead. Reading the liner notes, the final version of this track on the album included Bill Kreutzmann on the drums, Jerry Garcia on guitar, and none other than Phil Lesh on bass, a dynamic that obviously carried an emotional connection on this night at The Mission unknown by most or forgotten by some.

Back to it, like Crosby ascending, so did the music, building and turning, eventually settling, easing into the familiar sounds of “Wharf Rat”. Grahame, accompanied by all familiar with the tale of woe and question, belted out the lyrics. Armed with the tenor sax, James added sweet fragments around the written component as well into the interlude, often departing from simple phrasing and entering into the frenetic. Coming in at over fourteen minutes, this one was the longest venture of the night and covered everything from the soft and delicate to the boisterous and riveting, leaving nothing in between untouched.

Teasing what seemed like “Me and My Uncle”, the band pulled one over on the audience and opted to go with a great take on “Help On The Way”. Incisive and animated, this one came in with high energy and had Rick again at the vocal helm. Entering into “Slipknot”, the room spurred the band on with whistles and cheers, driving the octet to keep the energy high, the floor churning and seething as one moving organism. As the knot tightened and listeners waited for it all to break free into the release of “Franklin’s Tower”, the band, full of surprise, turned on a dime, right into “Mississippi Half Step.” Again, led by Rick, his voice young and vibrant, those who love to sing threw in with him and marched the tune together in support. The crescendo featured great work and agility by Rick and reflected the depth of his old soul approach to this music. The tail end had the horn section singing Across the lazy river in repetition before they faded and the snap of “Franklin’s Tower” kept it all going. Although everyone got a turn to sing on this one, the biggest reception was when Phil stepped to the mic and when he reached the lyric If you get confused / listen to the music play, the place just went wild, scurrying with delight in search of their marbles.

With a brief pause, Phil returned to the stage alone:

Wow! Hi, guys. Is this a pretty nice venue or what?!?! Great sight lines, great sound, GREAT CROWD, C’MON! The first thing I want to do tonight is thank you for coming out and helping us make this music as you well know. It’s the energy and love we get from you that makes us feel free to go off into the zone, as it were, and see what we can find. So thank you for that because without that energy and confidence that we have in you guys, we would just be sitting here noodling.

I would also like to remind everyone how easy it is to become an organ donor. You simply turn to someone that you love and loves you and who knows you well and say to them,” If anything ever happens to me, I want to be an organ donor”. It is the simplest thing in the world and there you have done it and you can feel good about it.

We have some more music for you. I would like to bring the musicians of the band back on and introduce them to you. My friends, please. This is just an incredible lineup. On keys and violin, Jason Crosby. On guitar and vocals, Rick Mitarotonda. On guitar and vocals, Grahame Lesh. Anchoring the whole thing on the drums, the mighty white cloud, John Molo. And we have our incredible vocalists and horn players, Natalie Cressman on trombone, Jennifer Hartswick on trumpet, and James Casey on saxophone.

Pausing here for a moment, the outpouring of love that James Casey received during his introduction was deafening to say the least and seemed largely due to the fact that many through the musical community knew he had been facing cancer treatments for the better part of nearly six months. As that room let him know how they felt about his positive impact not only on the night but in the world of live performance, he stood there, smile as wide as the sky and tearful eyes, looking out and humbled in that most human and overwhelming of moments from the cascade of pure positivity and love from a room full of familiar strangers. If that wasn’t enough, his mom also happened to be in the house that night and she beamed in his success almost as much as he did.

Phil continued:

And by the way, it just happens to be James' birthday. I won’t tell you how old he is, I will let him do that if he wants to. We have a little something here for him. Now we are going to sing Happy Birthday to James.

With that a lady with a cake adorned with two simple candles was brought out for the birthday boy. James made his way over to Phil’s rig where the pastry waited for him to extinguish its tiny flames, and at his completion of the task, the room once again filled with overpowering gratitude and great vibes. The cake whisked away, Phil hugged James and then placed his hands on his shoulders and began speaking to him. Whatever he was saying caused James to stand up very straight and tall, his posture signaling that what this Godfather of Life and Survival was telling him carried a lot of weight. James stood there, taking it all in, and at Phil’s unheard finish, James wept and hugged Phil again. Phil then picked up an urn, contents unknown, and handed it to James, eyes still full of tears, and told him what it was. One could physically see that James was overwhelmed by the gravity of the gift and moved deeply, illustrating disbelief at this moment, his heart overfilled more than it possibly ever had been. Taking a step back and stepping into James’ shoes, one can only imagine what it must have felt like to experience the love from the crowd with the birthday announcement, followed by being honored by Phil Lesh, and then gifted something so special that it physically had an effect and all of this after battling cancer and getting a second lease on life. If appreciation was a physical fuel source, that man alone, in that moment, could have powered a planet. Writing this in retrospect and as witness, I count myself blessed having the opportunity to share this wonder-filled moment with those who couldn’t make night one.

To Phil the cup one more time with the bounty of love, “Box of Rain” was the song of choice and summed up the celebration of life and was the perfect nightcap, leaving everyone satiated and reset. As the house lights came up, delight, jubilation, and contentedness abounded in every face and heart. Most made their way out into the cold night silent and warmed from the inside out and as heads rolled out onto the surrounding streets, the only thing that added to momentary perfection incarnate was the fact that we all had another night of bliss on the horizon.

Stay tuned...

….And the band played on.

Arriving early for round two on Sunday, February 5th, the air was electric with anticipation outside the Mission Ballroom on Phil Lesh’s final night in Denver with his friends. Fueled with the outcome of a great first night, multiple conversations in the already forming lines speculated over the musical possibilities of the evening, including the rest of “Dark Star” in lieu of the full moon or an appropriate “Mission In The Rain”. Certainly, the possibility of Billy Strings sitting in was on everyone’s mind, Strings having wrapped his own three night run the day before and sitting in with Ross James and Andy Thorn in the wee hours of Sunday morning. Of course, the “Never Miss a Sunday Show” theory factored into everyone’s predictive model and with all these dynamics, so much potential was still on the table. With everyone’s continued reeling from the outpouring of love and quality playing on Saturday, the energy of night two, from outside the building, was already climbing.

Keeping to the schedule, the doors opened pretty close to advertised times and a respectful fanbase did their best speed walking demonstration, making for their favored spot, whether rail or bleacher seat, doing their part to honor the requests of the venue’s security while keeping the good name of Deadheads everywhere intact. With acquiring their respective spots, fans weren’t kept waiting too long as Phil and the expected co-conspirators took their rightful spots closer to eight than the night before.

Getting the party started, a full pounding “Shakedown Street” throwdown busted straight out the gate with Phil sounding funky and alive while James Casey took command of the lyrics, adding his own flavor to the delivery. Supported by his brass counterparts and a well-coordinated audience on the obligatory woo’s, the dance party was on!  Jason Crosby added some great 70’s clavinet effect, bringing to fruition the vibe of the decade from which the song was born. The charting for the horns breathed great life into this version and grabbed the attention of everyone in the room. With the first ten minutes of the night complete, it was apparent the band was here to give it their all.

“Sugaree” came down the pike next with Natalie Cressman leading the charge. Dressed in black and with microphone in hand, Nat showed her sultry side was not just limited to her sultry slide. Jen Hartswick got the second stanza and took the appropriate gospel path to rapture in front of the Sunday church crowd. Jason pumped it out on the Hammond, spinning the Leslie into dizzying delight. Grahame Lesh slipped on his own quivering slide and pushed the temperature of this one to boiling. Oscillating between soul-changing power and quiet repositions, the band executed this one with top marks, leaving the room intoxicated in elated delirium.

Giving the crowd another bowl full of the soulful, Grahame continued the service with “High Time”. Singing with passion and verve, Grahame often had his eyes closed for this one, throwing his head back in emotion, as he channeled the feeling of the piece through his guitar. Jason wrapped the faithful in sustained organ while the preacher delivered the sermon. John Molo hung back, rapping at the snare’s edge while Lesh kept it tight and simple.

“Deep Elem Blues” transported the room to Nawlins, done right with just the perfect amount of that Cajun flavor and led into the deep south by an Ella Fitzgerald possessed Reverend Hartswick. Trombone Nat slid right into Bourbon Street, adding to the strut of the band. James got the second pass, keeping the recipe authentic while adding some fire and spice. Rick fanned the flames of the gumbo that was already boiling over and filling the belly of everyone dancing in the aisles to get a taste. The Rev even got a turn behind the brass stove, cooking it up and shaking in the proverbial seasoning.  Jason switched over for the classic piano sound and shared in the tail end of the first line with some fun, speedy call and response moments with the guitarists.

An upbeat “Dire Wolf” sung by Rick Mitarotonda was short, sweet, and kept everyone on their feet and engaged. At three and a half minutes, this one would mark the shortest tune of the weekend.

Giving everyone a chance to catch their breath, Phil musically announced the next tune with that familiar bass line that embodies “The Wheel”. With a wide structure, the vehicle on an open road can literally go anywhere and, with those opening notes, the crowd warmly climbed aboard. This outing also showed that in spite of chronological age, Phil can keep up with the youthful spirit he surrounds himself with, belting out the lyrics and hanging in the pocket of these upbeat mediums. At eight minutes in, this one went from succinct march to a broader space, opening up into a respiration of exploration, accented with flittering strings and ambient breaths, and towards the end, Phil dropped a bomb that literally shook the walls and bones of The Mission and its inhabitants.

To close out the set, Grahame donned the acoustic and the band once again honored the memory of David Crosby with “Laughing”, yet another track from If I Could Only Remember My Name for which Phil played on. Like the other songs of remembrance from Saturday, this one would also be the first attempt at this tune for Phil and any of his cohorts. James made great on the evocative piece and the ethereal dynamic of the vocal backup by the rest of the band sent chills throughout the room. At its close, the audience unified in recognition of the moment as the band smiled and took in the moment. Before walking off, Phil hit the mic, stating with a grin, “So hey, we are going to take a short break and we will be back in just a few minutes with some more music for you.” With set one wrapped up and full of so many colorful and spirited moments, the crowd once again found themselves at half time full, smiling, and ready for more.

Set two popped off with the metaphorical nod to the Sunday dynamic with everyone’s favorite man of the cloth, “St. Stephen”. The first eight minutes of this was a guitar firework display, notes sent skyward, bursting so frequently it was difficult to discern all that was going on at the same time. Halfway through, the band shifted as Molo pushed the tempo and Rick and Grahame hit the crowd with stringed barrages, while Phil laid out a driving line that everyone else swerved around. The amicable chaos finally broke and with new wings spread, The Byrds’ “Eight Miles High” took flight. Another obvious toast to The Croz, this one dripped, morphed, and tattered. Performed in the past by Phil with other friends and with Further, this hit of yesteryear had not shown up in his setlists since 2014. Phil’s bass line plowed through the middle of this version, energetic and on rapid fire. After five minutes of the bust out, the music turned the band back to the ending of “St. Stephen”, the familiar structure receiving a grand applause following some impressive musical agility.

Reaching a definitive stop, but not long enough to get a breath, the band furthered on with “Scarlet Begonias”. Rick rendered the reading well with the crowd singing right along. With guitar blossoms blooming and that feel good calypso vibe, this long-time favorite paid off once again. The end packed a lot of punch, the horns adding different bells and whistles, some appearing to be conjured on the spot as the trio huddled rather than consulting the charts before them.

Devoid of transition from the preceding floral arrangement, “Eyes of the World” was born out of another dead stop followed by some ambient tuning before being met with an excited welcome from the audience. James not only gave the words the silky-smooth soul treatment, but also certainly filled the void for those who couldn’t attend March 29, 1990. For those in attendance who weren’t alive at that time, this would be the night that James Casey delivered on the alto sax, a night to remember. Jason tickled the eighty-eight and ran his spider fingers from one end to the other. His solo was extensive and pronounced and his bandmates were happy to sit back and let him take the spotlight.

Under the guidance of a final violin fill by the piano man, the ocular perspective settled nicely into the cloudy comfort and mist of “Stella Blue”. Jen once again throttled the vocals with soul and guttural emphasis, moving even the most stoic of audience members to emotion. This one really put the focus on the control and dynamic range of this talented voice. Swinging from soft and light to convicted and conflicted, Jen only made every single one of us asking for more. Even Phil was drinking from her overflowing cup, smiling and dotting her emotion with the occasional low end, sonic rumble that just accentuated what everyone was already feeling. Even writing these words, script doesn’t do what happened in this version any justice at all. This rendition is a must listen, to be enjoyed through headphones, a once in a lifetime moment of perfection. Even the guitar and violin duel in the middle is something not to be missed.

“Let It Grow” was the next selection and had Rick leading the rhythm, chopping out the timing while Grahame flourished over the top. Grahame directed the vocals with compliment from the horn section once again. Molo danced along the cymbal bells while Phil added the umph to the accents. The horn builds definitely complete this tune. This version was fourteen minutes of bliss and lifted with some great, vertigo-inducing improvisation.

From the fertile earth, the familiar phrasing of “Terrapin Station” materialized, Rick’s gentle telling manifesting the tale delicately and deliberate. At the first pass of the instrumental, Grahame’s and Rick’s guitars sang out in unison, note for note, achieving thrust and elevation, spiraling around one another. Philled with thunder and lightning, this colossus rumbled and built into the expected towering edifice, solid and steadfast, closing out the set, leaving the perfect destination point fresh in the Heads of those who had made the trip.

Like Saturday, Phil returned to the stage alone to an exuberant audience, doing their best to thank him for his unending journey and all that he brings, both past and present, to the lives of the devout listener. Beaming, he stood there, unhurried, taking it all in. Finally, the man spoke:

Hello, hello. Thank you all for your enthusiasm here. I mean this has been one of the warmest welcomes that I can remember anywhere in the country. Thank you. You guys kill it and are right there with us. It really is a wonderful thing to see.

This recognition lifted the roof and the appreciation was greatly reciprocated back to the man in charge. With a quick organ donor reminder, Phil got to introducing the band. As this was the last opportunity the grateful had to thank the band for a great weekend, with each call of the roll, a huge burst of appreciation for each member visibly moved the namesake.

Saying goodbye one last time to both the audience and to David Crosby, Grahame took up the acoustic and started Crosby’s “Music Is Love”, another first for Phil and the band. The simple title phrase got everyone out in front of the stage joining in. The drone of the music alongside the reverberating proclamation put the room into a group meditation, the individual fading to the background as the tribe became fully embodied. Although some might have expected the night to come to an end on a higher note, the message not only fit, but put everyone in a contemplative, shared dream state that spawned more hugs than party, recentered to the aspect that roots us all in this collective vision.

Back-to-back nights, 34 songs, a host of new characters, Phil Lesh obviously got the nickname “Reddy Kilowatt” all those years ago for a reason and decades later, it still fits. The man is a wellspring of creativity and the fact that he continues not only to go out and make music, but also changes it up with new talent on the regular, shows that his musical tale is not a choice, but a must. Taking the time to rehearse, teach, and learn with new hearts and faces has its own challenges, but his accurate ability to choose the right souls remains abundantly clear. Add to this that the music is often reconfigured and embellished in new ways, shows that this master loves being the student as well as the leader and loves the challenge of breathing new life into these archaic tales. Hitting the bright age of 83 next month, the Mission Ballroom performances emphasized that this living legend shows no signs of parting ways with the things he loves most. It is easy to see that for him, this life and his contribution is a calling, a need to spread joy and light in a darkened world and continues down this road seemingly more for the community impact than for selfish desire.

Keeping his son close at hand, Grahame Lesh’s abilities continue to impress and his talent is certainly carrying on the good name of Phil. He stands strong and confident as leader and support and is abundantly happy in either role.

Much like Phil, John Molo has aged well and his level of interpretation and unending spirit is demonstrated without falter or misstep. The man goes from sitting behind the kit to towering over it and in these moves, he is right on the beat. His locked in connection is both audible and visual as he has his head on a swivel watching for the stage side changes and queues and meets every one of them at the perfect timing. His jaw is often dropped and his eyes shut, but his smile dawns every unified effort that results from the band’s acrobatic success and is happy to share it with all who have made the moment. It is no wonder why Phil has kept this guy on the roster for decades. Thank you, Mount Saint Molo

Jason Crosby is always the right fit no matter who he plays with and his focus is apparent as his eyes constantly watch the other players on stage from behind the boards. His ears are wide open and knows just how to add the filling that made these two evenings truly delectable.

Rick Mitarotonda is obviously living the dream. From his success with Goose to touring with Trey Anastasio last fall to getting the call play with Phil, this guy’s bucket list gets shorter with every passing moment. His demand is certainly warranted as he continually surprises and mesmerizes with his guitar play. He carries a deep soul of learning and interpretation and the sky's the limit when it comes to his musical future.

Natalie Cressman, with her innocent appearance, is a worldly force and only gets better and fiercer with every outing. Her vocals continue to grow and her bone gets the collective Pavlov’s dog salivating.

Having seen Jennifer Hartswick multiple times in the last two decades, this set of performances left one sockless. She went deep and full and her vocal fury certainly put her trumpet playing at a close second. Her display was so powerful, many are already checking her website to see when they might catch her magic next.

James Casey is the man on a mission and blessed in every way. He is bold and humbled in the same breath and gives everything he has in the moment to those who stop to listen. His boyish grin and blush elicited from every shining moment demonstrates his innocence even more and makes him all the more loveable. He is a fighter and winner and what he left on the stage in those two Denver nights retells the fact that he will not slip from this life easily, determined to share all that he’s got while he’s got it.

So, if you are looking for that Grateful Dead sound and want it as close to the original energy and creativity that the band was renowned for, surrounded by a community that is still listening for the secret and searching for the sound, Phil Lesh and his circle of friends continues the journey and are more than happy to play the soundtrack in the dream we all dreamed one afternoon so long ago.

For any fan of the live music experience, catching a band or artist on their way up is what dreams and legends are made of. From bragging rights to crystal clear memories, seeing talent in intimate settings is always regarded as something special and being a part of this magic in Colorado is almost certainly more than that.

On March 16th, Colorado creative force and inspiration Tyree Woods will be taking center stage at MainStage Brewery in Lyons and for anyone who has witnessed this lyrical and stringed original in person, this is certainly something not to be missed. With only forty tickets available and an opportunity to have your soul spring filled by both Woods’ wisdom and the taps and cuisine of MainStage brewery, this will certainly be a night to remember.

Mainstage Brewery Website Link

https://www.mainstagebrewing.com/music/tyree-woods-live-at-mainstage

Mainstage Facebook Link:

https://www.facebook.com/mainstagebrewing/posts/pfbid0MzhDGVohNRRWXSJA5iPaDFeBc1oiw6jUiie523bc5mvmqSDYbkpiGjXXaKkXFcZDl

Ticket Link:

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/tyree-woods-live-at-mainstage-tickets-558281173017

Over the weekend, The Infamous Stringdusters wrapped up their Colorado based, nine date Ski Dust tour. Starting at the end of February, the band hit Frisco’s Ten Mile Music Hall to kick things off before moving south to Crested Butte and Telluride. With a total of six shows to say goodbye to February, the month of March would get the second half of the tour with a turn towards the north country and the Front Range. Stopping off for a headlining night at the 10th annual WinterWonderGrass just like they had a decade ago at the inaugural event, the band then headed east, finishing it all off with back-to-back, sold-out shows in Fort Collins and Boulder.

Fort Fun’s music gem Washington’s was home base for the penultimate gig for this fearsome quintet and whether one was catching the whole tour or just this one close to home, the energy of the line that stretched around the building was palpable. Letting folks in right at seven, the friendly staff greeted everyone with a smile, reflecting the same ornament that most were wearing entering the lofty lobby. Some headed for the balcony and its comfortable theater seats, others made for the rail, while still others meandered between the dual level bars, engaging in conversation, hugs, and high fives, catching up and mulling over merchandise choices. With a showtime of eight, it was clear that the band was going to delay, not because the room wasn’t already feeling tight, but because the healthy line outside had still not come to its end and the evening needed a little more time to get everyone in.

With a patient and courteous crowd ready to receive the offerings of the night, the band finally took to the darkened stage. Fiddle player Jeremy Garrett stepped to the microphone, and greeted everyone simply with, “What’s up, everybody? Let’s do this!” The crowd acknowledged the invitation with a short explosion and the band got things going with “Carry Me Away”. Leading the charge was Garrett on vocals, strong and confident, and this short bluegrass tune got the room warmed up for a night full of fun. From the get go, it was easy to see that the band was just as excited as their audience and sounded tight and energetic.

Tom Petty’s “Running Down a Dream” came in second and was sung by bass talent Travis Book. Andy Hall’s quickfire dobro charge added to the fire of this rare cover and looking back over the list for the tour, this was a debut for the Colorado run. The version stayed pretty true to the original structure but got the Stringduster treatment, including a propelled ending. Two songs in, the sound, lights, and music gave everyone that feeling that they were in the right place at the right time.

Without a breath, “My Destination” from the band’s first album Fork in the Road slid into the third slot. This one is high octane bluegrass at its best. Another first for the run, the audience recognized it as special and the band reciprocated. A couple of minutes in, the incendiary string theory turned jam and everyone strapped in. With the groove set up, flatpicking fury Andy Falco unleashed his inner beast on the solo, treating the room to exactly what they had come for. At the break, Garrett jumped right back into the lyrics and finished off the number that timed out at almost eight minutes.

As the applause dwindled, Book got to the mic to check in:

How is everybody doing tonight? Right on. We are so grateful to finally be here. It took us a long time to get here to this room. Whole pandemic. But now we’re here and it is beautiful. Thank you all for coming and sharing this evening with us.

Taking it back to the old school, the band put to work the Flatt and Scruggs cover “I’d Rather Be Alone”. This tune was recently given to the fans in February as an early glimpse into the upcoming April release of the tribute album the band have been working on to honor these two legends and their groundwork in the world of bluegrass. Keeping to the traditional, this one lasted only a few minutes but got some great banjo fills from Chris Pandolfi. Book’s vocals delivered on the genuine feel of the piece.

The instrumental “Cloud Valley” left the traditional in the rear view and took the room through the aspects of the title, traversing deep into the emotive lowlands, fertile and moist, while also spanning through high altitude skyscapes, giving wing to the nine-hundred to soar multiple times throughout the piece. The interplay encapsulated both strength and tenderness and visibly moved some listeners to tears. Hitting almost eight minutes, any baggage the audience had brought with them dissolved into the fleeting notes of the moment. This one also was a first on the Ski Dust Tour.

With a warm applause and calls for more, Dobro wizard Andy Hall addressed the audience:

Well thanks so much, Fort Collins. Like Travis said, it is a pleasure and an honor to finally be here. The very, very, very last gig we were trying to do before the pandemic hit, it was right here. We were loading in and it all got shut down. We never got to play so that was almost three years to the date of today so we are feeling good being here tonight, Fort Collins! Seeing everyone together, having a blast, thank you for coming. It is a joyous occasion!

Under a deafening wave of celebration, Falco strummed out the intro to “Long Time Going”. Garrett got on early with the vocals and the evening continued. A few minutes in, at the break of the tune, Garrett and Pandolfi engaged in a pop and punch battle, the audience egging them each on, until they both broke, the rest of the band jumping back into the instrumental. The group moved as one for a few more minutes before turning the music to another fan favorite in “Rainbows”, the two combined clocked in at ten plus minutes of good times.

With the end of the set approaching, the band chose to bring on the break with a couple of covers. The Grateful Dead’s “Brown Eyed Women” was up next and was well received, Falco leading the way. His vocals carried charm all the way through and his stringed voice nailed the imagery of the tune. Without a clear stop, the band slid into Daft Punk’s “Get Lucky”. From the audience’s response, this was well known and had many singing along. This had the energy of a true set closer, the whole of the band pushing it further and further, higher and higher.

Pandolfi got the charge of set break announcer, addressing the crowd:

Fort Collins! Thank you guys so very much. We are going to take a short break. We've got much more music on tap. Stick around, we will see you guys in just a few. Thank you.

With the band back and full of smiles, the joy collective was ready to get with it. Set two opened with the positive message “It’ll Be Alright” with Book delivering the words of wisdom. The solos spotlight each of the members before giving way to a small jam. This interlude, inlaid with soft accents, started light and lilting before picking up speed and finally breaking into “Well Well”. With Hall taking lead vocals as per the usual, this one was spot on, proud, and filled to the brim with energy. As if racing to get to the end, when the parameters of song number two were met, the band took their first real run at altering the room's perception of time and space. Turning to the effect pedals, the room echoed and strobed, drawing the attention inward. As the context went angular, layered, and offsetting, the band revolved, filling the gaps. Book kept everyone anchored, Falco and Hall reacted like tethered animals trying to lose the leash, Garrett and the Mighty Panda filled the backdrop as the crowd’s skewed viewpoint tried to make sense of it all, listeners filled with confused glee as the band pulled them along. The apex of the endeavor left the house reeling, and coming off as completely effortless, the five dropped right back into the tail end of “Well Well” under a tide of celebration. The Stringdusters smiled in the wake of their creation, enjoying the delight of the room.

Someone yelled out “You guys are awesome!”, to which Falco simply stated, ”Hey, You guys are awesome! We really appreciate each and every one of you. Thank you for coming out and sharing your evening with us.”

Falco continued:

This is the end of what we would call our ski tour. We are obviously not skiing here, but we have been in Colorado for about the last 8 or 9 days and what better place for a band like us to be than Colorado. Particularly we wanted to end this tour right here on the Front Range in Fort Collins and we are playing Boulder tomorrow night. Thank you guys so much for making this tour amazing. You all are the best!

The Grateful Dead’s “Touch of Grey” kept the good vibes going and pulled everyone into the singalong. Any appreciator of Jerry Garcia has to honor the bluegrass side of “Captain Trips” and hearing this one within the instrumentational context of these players made it a little more special.

ZZ Top’s “Sharp Dressed Man” started up with the final note of “Touch”. Per the beard protocol, it was only appropriate that Garrett lead the band and this one got as much crowd accompaniment if not more than the Garcia number. Hall fueled up the dobro and annihilated his solo, extending into many, many, many measures. Garrett took on round two and chopped and sawed at that fiddle with fury, dancing in place with eyes closed, while his face shifted from gnarled grimace to stretched smile over and over again. Falco took on the third helping and although he is clean shaven, Billy Gibbons would have given over mad props in person had he witnessed his handling of the lead. Sweat stained and beaming with glee, Garrett addressed the house, “Hey, cheers everybody! You can’t go wrong with ZZ Top bluegrass style!”, the proclamation gladly received and reciprocated by the patronage.

Returning to the traditional bluegrass feel, Pandolfi rolled out the intro to “A Hard Life Makes a Good Song”. Chris’ role would not end there, a healthy and well-articulated solo that pushed the freight train’s mid-section full steam ahead. With the rest of the band riding coach, Panda conducted that iron horse right down the tracks. When it seemed like it was going to all come off the tracks, the band shifted, without indicator or queue, right into the stabilizing force of “Gravity”. Book’s voice continued to deliver on the reflective lyrics while the rest pulled on the heartstrings with the emotional feel of the structure. The soul of the song opened up with a passionate dobro delivery by Hall that intensified the longer it went, the rest of the group holding down the head. With a movement or two of a nondescript reggae beat, the band went from planet earth’s gravity to free floating space with The Police’s “Walking on the Moon”.

The trifecta of diversity of “Hard Life” to “Gravity” to The Police cover certainly exemplified the mastery of this band to handle any genre that inspires them. It should also be noted that both “Hard Life” and “Walking on the Moon” were tour debuts, further reflecting the band’s ability to shake it up and make it up, keeping both themselves and their audiences engaged and entertained.

On a roll, the room went from the lunar stroll right into “Truth and Love”, another original that lifts the spirit and opens the soul. The central vibe is one of hope, promise, and faith amidst the unknown. The end contained a nice break from the reflective, shifting directly into an upbeat dance inducing groove. On the setlist, this one was written out as “Truth and Love Disco” and it certainly got going places. Garrett took that fiddle and turned the dance floor on its head, cycling up and up, hitting dizzying heights, until the freak out returned to the pursuit of “T&L”.

When the disco dancefest came to its end, Book chimed in, “Yeah fort Collins! You guys are badass! Thank you so much. We are having a blast up here. It is Saturday night. We are going to make it happen. You all are badass!” Hall added, “We knew that going in. We had all those gigs at The Aggie (theater), back in the day. Whew! Barely made it out of there alive. But uh, I got to say, our first time playing here at Washington’s, we are pretty freakin’ stoked on this place! Big hands to everyone here, and our good friend Kevin Gregory. Do guys like bluegrass music?” With that, The Stringdusters kicked up the hoedown with a straightforward, no-nonsense example of the bluegrass classic “Pig in a Pen”. At the end of the swift run through, Garrett looked down at the exuberant front row and stated, “You haven’t had enough yet?!?! Well, that’s alright ‘cause neither have we!”

Pulling once again from the Grateful Dead canon and breaking out another new tune for the tour, “Cold Rain and Snow” kept it all going. The jam in this one contained a great solo from each of the band members. Panda really shined on this one, taking an extra helping and sharing with everyone. Falco’s purposeful handiwork hypnotized the room, cycling between rhythmic strumming and blurred barrages of single notes. The middle got a diminished breakdown that slowly climbed with the refrain until it released back into a breakneck speed. As the speed grew, the band finally exited into the Garrett penned “Echoes of Goodbye” to close out the set, leaving the band and the audience on the highest of notes. Blistering violin cut through the air every chance Garrett got the chance. Falco’s lightning quick delivery was more of the same, giving it his all with as much energy as when he started the night. Hall’s hair whipped as he pivoted and lifted his run, eventually bringing himself up on the balls of his feet as if he might just leave the ground with the magic channeling through his being. Hitting the final notes of the first “Echoes” of the tour, the crowd that had shown up to get down still remained and let the band know that their efforts were not wasted or in vain.

“Deep Elem Blues” was the encore selection and was played with as much fun as the rest of the two sets. Pandolfi once again really came through on the banjo work and the rest of the guys laid back to give him extra time to burn brightly. Falco’s contribution came off as more blues shuffle than old time traditional and his soul poured through every note. The Walking Boss Book laid it in thick and matched Falco note for note through a few runs to the delight of the crowd. Garrett’s fiddle sang from start to finish and Hall bent and slid up to the very last moment. With the final notes played, the band finally relinquished the stage and sent a satiated audience out into night with an earful of satisfaction, a belly full of joy, and a headful of memories that left listeners beaming their inner light out onto the darkened downtown streets of Fort Collins.

In the end, there was nothing standard about the performance or setlist. Twenty songs, nine tour debuts, and of those songs that had appeared earlier on the nine-night run, none were played more than two other times. From strong vocals and ridiculous playing, as both independent elements and as an aggregate compound, the chemistry that The Stringdusters share is one that makes these gentlemen of jam truly infamous and unforgettable.

Nestled between Boulder and Fort Collins lies the sleepy little town of Lyons, Colorado. Populated with little more than two thousand citizens, this historic settlement has deep roots in the narrative of the Centennial State. Like much of the west, this area was first populated by multiple Native American tribes including the Cheyenne, Arapaho, and Comanche peoples, who thrived due to the vast resources of both the Rocky Mountains as well as the surrounding grasslands. With the westward expansion from the east, settlers arrived in the mid-1800s to try their lot at a new future and with this influx came others carrying the vision of developing the land. Established as a township in 1880, Edward S. Lyon founded this locale with the idea of quarrying out the unique red sandstone that surrounds its borders on three sides and would later incorporate the municipality in 1891. The concrete industry of the early twentieth century would end this pursuit and would send Lyon as well as others of the same ilk pursuing their fortunes elsewhere. Since its humble beginnings, little has changed.

The historic district looks much like it did over 100 years ago, many of its edifices designated on the National Register of Historic Places and constructed from the very salmon colored sandstone that the town was founded on. From a modern standpoint, this community has become a refuge for many artists and musicians and serves as home base for Planet Bluegrass, the festival talent responsible for doling out not only Telluride’s historic bluegrass event, but also the likes of the ever sold-out RockyGrass Festival, the latter being hosted within a mile of the village center and now running for more than fifty years. Although many music fans know this site for the big talent on its renowned stage, the magic that Lyons houses often comes in many forms, can happen at any time and, on Thursday night, Tyree Woods, military veteran turned soul soldier, was the conduit for all that is good and musical in the world.

Announced as a solo performance, this open-hearted powerhouse gave an intimate crowd all he had for two solid sets that had everyone listening attentively as he delivered original tunes interspersed with personal stories alongside some familiar covers and all the while with the help of some very special people. With a showtime of 7:30 pm, many patrons showed up early to Mainstage Brewing to take in the delectable edibles and imbibe in the tasty and varied brewery options, both of which paid off and fueled connections, both old and new, in an already welcoming and bright locale.

Housed in one of the historic building of Lyons originally constructed in 1881 and positioned at the literal crossroads of Colorado State Highways 7 and 36, MainStage hosts both an indoor and outdoor seating areas and from the layout and design, it is apparent that purveyors Eric Kean and Sam Scruby have placed as much importance on music events as they have on the food and drink they serve. The indoor space is rectangular in shape, hosting high ceilings and original wood floors and feels much like it would have hundred years ago with few modern embellishments being employed. One corner to the east of the front entrance is floored in stone and probably was the original site of a wood burning stove, but now serves as the traditional stage, warming the hearts of guests on cold nights. Heading outside, the summertime space consists of a covered patio as well as a large gathering area with tables and chairs, plotted out with sandstone paths, grass, and gravel, and contains another intimate stage towards the back of the property line. Standing in the deserted setting on this cold and windy Thursday night, it is easy to imagine returning to this space later this spring to take part in the annual musical run MainStage hosts known as MainGrass, surrounded by the good people of Lyons and nearby cities taking in great food, delectable brews, fantastic music, and the all around good vibes of our hosts at 450 Main Street.

As everyone finished their last bites and refueled their empty glasses, Tyree made his way from the back, through the crowd, and slung his acoustic around his neck. Wearing the wide smile he is becoming famous for in these parts, he thanked the patronage for attending and owner Eric Kean for the opportunity and got the night started with his original “Patterns”. Although billed as a solo show, Woods was joined from the onset with a partner in time, Jack Cloonan, on a second acoustic guitar. It was easy to see from the start that these two had a long history, as Cloonan seemed quite familiar with Woods’ catalog and knew when to add those flourishes that made the songs all the better. Song after song, the duo were met with grateful applause and whistles from the discerning listeners, which only broadened the smile of these gentlemen even further outside the great executions of their music.

Now as anyone familiar with the Colorado music scene knows, with the endless list of talent tucked away in the Centennial cities and Rocky Mountain hold-ups, there is always a chance that someone on the who’s who list will pop in to raise the ante and this night was no different. Three songs into the set, the sweet mando talent that is KC Groves did just that. Picking it all up without hesitation, this good lady of the high lonesome sound brightened Woods’ originals, both on strings and vocals, and added to an already special night in all the right ways. The duo turned trio played off each other well and exchanged glances, smiles, and acknowledgments as the crowd sat back and called out for more.

As mentioned, Colorado has this incredible list of known talent, but there is also this enclave of players who don’t shine on marquees and billboards, but deliver on an equal level as the famous talent just the same. With an introduction from management from behind the bar, Eric Kean called out to Woods that his “friend Ian Brighton would love to sit-in on clarinet” and with that the trio became a quartet. Woods commented, “ Well, this will be the first time I have had a clarinet sit in with me. Let’s see where this goes!”, and boy, how did it go! Much like Groves, Brighton blew right on in, comfortable and pronounced, and outside the occasional offsetting squeak, not skronk, he contributed as though he had been a fan of Tyree’s for a long time, not just having met him through his casual introduction.

At the close of set one, the room said goodbye to KC Groves and thanked her extensively for her contribution. Those who remained behind continued their conversation and libations, sheltered from the cold bitter night outside the emotionally warmed tavern. Set two offered even more in the way of quality music and continued as a mix of covers and originals, including fan favorites from Van Morrison, The Band, Lou Reed, Tom Petty, The Rolling Stones, and others. The trio continued, and although there were no more surprises, the rest of the night was filled with great chemistry between the players and left everyone on a positive note.

Tyree Woods is quickly becoming yet another go to name of talent in the Rocky Mountain region. Between his obvious songwriting capabilities as well as his stage presence as both solo artist as well as Buffalo Commons frontman, it is easy to see that for music lovers everywhere we will gladly see much, much more out of him and we will take whatever he can give. His distinct voice, stretching from coarse growl to silky soul, demonstrates his originality and passion for this craft he obviously pours his heart and whole body into. His wide smile is akin to that of a kid caught in the midst of fun, unhindered and free, living fully in the moment without a thought of the past or the next thing. His playing is on time and is equivalent to his singing when he stands out front, he gets the attention of everyone around, a reciprocation that hones him in even more to the moment, making the end result a beautiful and satisfying shared experience.

Sunday night, Ani DiFranco returned to Fort Collins for the first time in a little more than three years on the final Colorado stop of her spring tour. Following two nights in Boulder and a single in Breckenridge, fans were eager to see Ani brightening the doors of Washington’s once again and the songstress of strength gave a charged audience everything they paid for and more alongside the familiar faces of bassist extraordinaire Todd Sickafoose and trap master Terence Higgins. Playing yet again to a sold-out crowd, the evening was filled with an energy that only DiFranco can conjure and from her personal well spring, it did flow.

Much like her last visit in 2020, a line of superfans had already formed an hour before door time, and the multitude stood in the warm spring sun exchanging stories and connections waiting for what would be yet another great gig for the revolutionary legend. With a door time of 6:30, the talented and supportive staff of Washington’s opened the pearly gates to the excited and patient patrons, greeting each ticket holder with a smile and a welcoming air that makes this venue always a great place to be for any event.

At about half past seven, opening act Pieta Brown took the stage alongside the talented Liz Draper on upright bass, the warm crowd eagerly welcomed the duo and settled in to take in her music and perspective.

For those unfamiliar with Brown, this creative has been writing and performing for most of her life, not only as the progeny of singer / songwriter Greg Brown, but as an independent solo artist. Having recorded eight albums since 2002, her latest effort Freeway was put out in 2019 and released under DiFranco’s own label Righteous Babe Records. Outside of being a non-stop workhorse in her own right, she has also played along some of the greats in music, including Mark Knopfler, John Prine, and Brandi Carlisle to name a few.

Brown started the set with “Wishes Falling Through the Rain” off of her 2010 album One and All. This tune registers on the low end and Draper’s bow work fit perfectly to the droning vibe and Brown’s soft voice sat in perfect balance to the rumbling dynamic. After taking a moment to express how grateful she was to be on the road with one of her biggest inspirations in Ani, citing her as “one of her favorite people, songwriters, guitar players, singers, and activists”, Brown shifted her attention, taking the opportunity to introduce Draper as “my new old friend on the standup bass”.

Pulling from One and All again, “Calling All Angels” was up next. Brown and Draper harmonized well on this one and again both ladies’ playing was uniform and tight. Although the lyrics reflect a lone soul in a strange land, the structure and delivery resonate with confidence and strength not the fear or insecurity often associated with loneliness. Freeway was the next album choice, and from it came “Ask for More”. Fashioned with meandering instrumentation and an ethereal feel, this one comforted listeners and drew the room even more. Surprisingly, this would be the only number off of Brown’s latest creation.

Described as an homage to Loretta Lynn as “one of our earliest feminists, trying to find her way in a man’s industry”, “In My Mind I Was Talkin’ To Loretta” from Brown’s 2007 Remember the Sun got the next slot and this one was met with resounding applause. The music itself certainly embodied more country swagger than the preceding dream state constructs, reflecting the versatility of Brown, and by the whistles and catcalls, the audience was feeling the shift in attitude as well.

Morphing again, “Butterfly Blues” brought the room back into reflection, the character stranded between being caught and feeling the need to be let loose, unsure of either. The sweet steady delivery settled the crowd again into listening mode and the crowd took in Brown’s infectious ballad. With the opening line I’m going out to Colorado, “No Not Me” grabbed everyone’s attention and prompted the expected reaction with the locale reference. The mountains serving as a backdrop, the lines evoked the ideals of travel and wander, alone on the road with someone left behind but still in the heart, searching for the truth of experience.

Closing the set with a sing-along, “Street Tracker” was the song of choice. With the resonant chorus “I don’t wanna, don’t wanna go home”, the audience fell right in line on this one, inebriated by the storyline of freedom that coincides with being liberated from the mundane and the passion that bubbles up through the novelty of existing in the moment.

In the end, Pieta’s devices move the spirit and stimulate the mind. Her lyrical take is accessible and open to the interpretation of the listener. Her use of imagery flashes enough meaning to set one adrift, but the observation and focus is left wholly up to those taking the journey. Liz Draper was the perfect choice for accompaniment, with a heart as open as her ears, her exacting execution supported the feeling of every moment and gave a solid foundation to the whisper and scribe of Pieta.

With a short intermission and keeping everything right on time, Ani DiFranco hit the stage promptly at 8:30. Under a deafening welcome and touting that permanent impish grin she wears oh so well, Ani stepped to the mic and without a word, launched into “Shy” from her 1995 Not A Pretty Girl album. Thumping and bumping, the driving groove got everybody loose from the get go and Ani’s vocals flowed strong and on point. At the song’s end, Ani addressed the crowd: Alright, perfect. You have all taken well to the instruction so far. Hello beautiful people! Psyched! Wow! Whew! Are we still up there? How the f*&k far above sea level are we now?!?!?! Where’s my rope? Anyway, I’m psyched to be back in this room, this is an awesome room. I got my friend Todd and my friend Terrance with me. We got more rock and roll songs from back in the day. We figured if we get to play your nice tight room...

Under a rowdy fanfare of acknowledgment, old school fan favorite “Napoleon” kept the nostalgia trip going. Sounding as fresh as it did when it was first played in the mid-nineties, this rendition got many singing along, others listening, while everyone in the room was having a noticeably great time.

Loving to talk to the crowd as much as playing for them, Ani paused again:

This is a weird setlist tonight. A bunch of anti-singles. How much do we love Pieta Brown and Liz Draper? But anyway, here’s one to round out your trilogy from back in the day. Don’t get too comfortable.

“You Had Time” from the 1994 release Out of Range, made good on the trifecta promise and showed that Ani still has the chops to go full throttle as well as to restrain into the gentile. By the end of this one, Ani was jumping around the stage and having as much fun as those she was performing for. Changing it up yet again, the soul funk groove of “Do or Die” had everyone getting down and listening up. From Terence’s steady shuffle to sweet organ fills from Todd on the keyboard, Ani’s lyrics and inflection bounced right over the top as the trio kept everyone moving.

Switching from the keys back to the bass, Todd stood at attention waiting for Ani’s cue, the two coming in on the first deep note of “Dilate”, leveling the crowd and shaking the balcony. Following yet another early work, Ani pulled a piece from her 2017 Binary release in “Alrighty”, a song yet to be played on this tour. The lyrics challenge ideas about organized religion and a male god figure and instead point to the fact that the status quo only imprisons vision and creation. At its end, Ani stated satirically,” Christianity is cool and everything, but……I think we can do better”, setting fire to the audience.

“Swan Dive” started Ani front and center for the first stanza, Todd and Terence waiting at the ready for their moment to throw in. The upbeat pop and rock of the form had most up on their feet, the bridge had everyone joining in on the lyrics, and by the end Ani had the room roused with energy.

Slowing it all down with the blues, “Bad Dream” played nicely in the wake of the high energy of the preceding piece. This one really showcased how apparent Ani’s diverse love of the craft of singing is. As far as published works go, this one appears on her 2021 release Revolutionary Road and would be the newest tune presented in the set.

Introduced as a song about New Orleans, “Zizzing” spun the room with its repetitive descending line and its Big Easy illustrations and was followed with “a reward for being gracious listeners”, with another old school favorite and animated “Two Little Girls”. This one from the Little Plastic Castle album got some wah treatment from Ani at the midway point, charging the lyrical intonation even more. The end contained a big finish that had Todd belting out the lowest of notes while Terence punched the toms and bass drums.

Ani fired up “Allergic to Water” and before she got to the poetic reading, she commented, “Someone wants to hear this. There’s one in every crowd”, stimulating laughter throughout the spectators. Probably the shortest of the night, this one still rang true with the usual combo of great words and chords and demonstrated the soulful dynamic of the multidimensional creator that draws her fans in.

Dialing up “In or Out” from her 1992 album Imperfectly, this one was yet another high paced exercise and the crowd recognized it from the first few notes and burst with appreciation.

Seeing Ani in concert, she often fills the spaces between with social commentary or personal observations, but on Sunday, by her own admission, she seemed devoid of words, but still had a lot to say:

I don’t know what to say tonight. I guess I’m not saying much. Anybody else got anything to say? I guess this is not as effective if you don’t have a microphone. I love you back. It was a long f*&king pandemic. And I tell you, thanks for being here when I did come back. I don’t know about you, but I just couldn’t get my sh*t together in the pandemic. I was like I will learn Spanish…. and piano. I’ll learn Spanish piano. I’ll do yoga every day. I learned how to drink even better. I’m not proud of it, I’m not proud. It’s a process, steps on the path, steps on the path. I will tell you one thing: I didn’t write a single ding dang song. I was just like, I don’t know….like many of us, maybe like is it over? Is that all over? It just stops now? What happens? But then, it was finally okay to leave the house and gather again and foosh, foosh, foosh, foosh, here come the songs so thank you, the elusive you, because I learned, without you, I am not just into it…..why?

“Animal” followed and with its statements on consumerism, the chains of limited thinking, and the human impact on the global environment, it’s powerful message of encouragement to reflect on being the human animal and being aware of the effect we perpetuate on the world around had the crowd silenced, taking the personal implications to heart.

Before starting “Genie”, Ani shared that “the only criteria for tonight’s set was we didn’t play it last time we were here”, adding to the excitement of the room that was already fully taking everything in that the band was dishing out and asking for more. Terence got a moment to shine in the spotlight, doling out an impressive drum improv for a multitude of minutes while Ani, Todd, and everyone else egged him on. Swiveling from the kit to accoutrement, he dug in deep and loud.

Following a big thanks to the opener and crew, Ani initiated “Joyful Girl”. Another early one on her career spectrum, the mantra here is keeping that inner joy regardless of the outer perspective or difficulties that life brings.

Celebrating 25 years as an album this year, the title track off of Little Plastic Castle got the closing set slot. Certainly, as one of the most popular of Ani’s songs, this choice became the biggest sing along for the evening.

Returning for the encore under a deafening request, the band came out with “Fire Door” off of Ani’s first album Ani DiFranco, dating back to 1990, making it the oldest song of the night. Bringing everyone back down to earth after the upbeat energy of “Fire Door”, the ballad “Hypnotized” tucked everyone in for the night. At its end, the crowd certainly wasn’t going to allow the band to leave on a melancholy note and called out for one more, resulting in a second encore, something that is not the typical format of Ani’s sets. To the participants’ satisfaction, another heater in “Shameless” got shared. This early favorite had everyone grooving and, at its close, shouting out for more until the house lights came up and everyone finally knew that another great evening had come to an end.

The single set closed at a little over ninety minutes and nineteen songs, most heralding from Ani’s early career and creations. The messages of tolerance, awareness, and humanity were as genuine as they ever have been through this author’s eyes and emotions and it was refreshing that many are still showing up to get refilled with this soundtrack of the soul. If this evening is any indicator, fans are still willing to travel for miles, not for a gimmick or a jam, but for the sincerity and skill that is the end product of this hard-working woman of eternal creativity. Lyrically, it is impressive to conceive just how many lyrics Ani has stored on her cerebral hard drive, as nary a chart or a piece of tech could be seen on stage to direct or remind her of all the poetic renderings she spouts, further signifying that what she produces comes from deep within and is truly a part of her. As far as the company she keeps, Todd and Terence are the perfect fit and the trinity sounded well-rehearsed, alive, and fresh, showing no signs of running through the motions or mailing it in. As a fellow human being, thank you for what you do, Ms. DiFranco. The world is a better, more positive place with you in it.

Amidst a fresh snowfall, the rhythmic fires of world renowned Zakir Hussain and The Masters of Percussion burned brightly on Tuesday night at Boulder’s Neo-Gothic styled Macky Auditorium. Celebrating thirty years of the revolving door of players that has defined The Masters of Percussion Tour, anyone who has followed this well-known event knew well before showtime that the experience was something that would be memorable, momentous, and magical.

The Masters of Percussion concept was originally born out of an ideal that was bestowed upon Zakir by his late father, the incredible Allarakha. His father encouraged him to seek out talent throughout the states of India and, as an honorable son, that is exactly what he did. As one who is impassioned for the newness and novelty in life and its experience, Zakir eventually branched out. Feeling that the original vision was too limiting, restricting himself as well as those attending his concerts from other traditions and disciplines from around the world, he sought to fill the seats around him with talent from around the globe.

Although anyone would be honored to witness the awe-inspiring tabla proficiency that is Zakir Hussain alone, what brings out the best in his performances is his desire and need to continually expand through the shared experience of performing with other great players. For this leg of the seemingly never-ending story, Zakir has enlisted the skill and artistry of top names heralding from Columbia, India, and Uzbekistan, including Grammy nominated percussionist Tupac Mantilla, Navin Sharma on Dholak, vocalist Sabir Khan on Sarangi, and Abbos Kosimov on doyra. When speaking to the traditional dynamics of these players, it is also important to mention that many were raised in their instruments and instructed by family, adding yet a whole other distinctive layer to the performance.

Macky Auditorium seats a little more than 2000 guests and by the time the lights went dim, nearly every seat was filled. With an orchestra section and two balconies, seeing the place fill with patrons of all ages and ethnicities was the epitome of the unity that live world music brings.

The single 90-minute set began with deep and moving vocals from Sabir. Accentuated by light, ambient percussion from Tupac, this undesignated prayer-like song settled everyone in and pulled focus inward. With the energy of the room set, Tupac made his way to the front of his drum kit and demonstrated for many minutes his talents in rhythm by way of his body as his instrument. From claps and snaps to mouth pops and foot drops and participation from every other body part in between, what he demonstrated at the least is that no one needs an auxiliary instrument to take part in the cadence of existence.

The next movement journeyed on with Zakir’s entrance and conjured imagery of moving through the Indian countryside. Sabir’s sarangi moaned and droned as Navin navigated the low thuds of the dholak, Zakir’s digital wizardry flittered like hummingbird wings, zipping around and through the scene. Tupac’s ever-changing instrumentation behind the drum kit coupled with Abbos’ echoing doyra kept everyone attuned to the path. Before returning to the lone sounds of the sarangi, the group culminated in a ground shaking finish that left the room jarred and smiling with delight.

The next section transitioned into a duet of sorts between Zakir and Sabir. The two exchanged at times staring into each other’s delivery and at others, taking inner refuge and focus under closed lids, both honoring their partners with smiles and silent laughter. This portion ebbed and swelled multiple times, shifting between meditation and explosive jubilation time and time again.

Following a distinct break, allowing the incredibly silent and attentive room to audibly thank the The Masters for the soul resetting thus far, Abbos was offered the opportunity to take the spotlight. Affixed with percussive shakers around the ankle and not one but two doyras, Abbos started his moment in the sun slowly and built to a frenetic ending that had the audience clapping on a specific beat designated by Abbos pointing into the crowd at certain intervals. During this section, he oscillated between doyras and tambourines and, at one point, took to throwing the doyra high into the air and catching it in time, resulting in his own wide-faced grin, a dynamic he shared with most everyone in the room.

For the next scene, Zakir addressed the audience, first in the dialect of the tabla and then in English, and discussed language, “Language is maybe a little different. Whether it is tabla or doyra or dholak or all sorts of percussion craziness, everyone plays the same S-H-I-D”, this statement causing the audience to spill out the belly full of joy that had been filled repeatedly throughout the set. Returning to the tabla tongue, the humble leader continued to dole sentence after sentence in vocal ornament until finally stopping to translate what he had said, “I just sent you an invitation to come to this concert in the language of tabla. I am sorry it got to you late, you wouldn’t have had to buy tickets. So, in the short conversation, please come sit and relax, have something to eat, something to drink, listen to the concert and go home.” Returning to his second language, Zakir recited more and then translated once again:

The deer, moving in the forest, looking for food. Takes one turn, McDonald’s is closed. Takes another turn, Pizza Hut ran out of cheese. But then gets startled and runs away. So those movements, plus that running away, when the deer runs, it’s a beautiful half flying, half running gait, so to express all this in syllables, this is the one thing that the Indian language excels in is the expressive element.

Giving over to laughter at the odd imagery of the timeless and modern mixed elements described, the crowd celebrated the light hearted nature that is the root of this serious but jovial spirit. Washed in a room full of jubilation, the quintet moved into the closing piece of the night, taking the 2000 travelers on a final ecstatic and fiery flight that contained focused showcases, allowing each of the members to glow independently one last time. With the final thunder being struck, the five fingered hand of the infinite approached the edge of the stage, and standing hand in hand, grins as big as those who had watched them lay it all out, took a final bow and graciously thanked the crowd before walking off.

In the afterglow of yet another incredible performance, I caught up with a gentle soul, a seeker of sound, who had caught the last three performances on the tour and asked him which was the best he had seen. He replied, “There is no best one because each of them have been very different. Zakir and The Masters don’t perform the same show night after night and what keeps me coming back is that surprise and wonder of the impromptu that makes this music feel and sound so alive.” Absorbing his answer, I queried further, asking him how he would describe seeing one of these performances to someone who knew nothing of Zakir, the tabla, or world music in general. As he paused for a moment, formulating his response, his smile stretched and his eyes shone, and finally stated, “Seeing Zakir in these intimate venues with these incredible musicians is like being bathed in sunshine and kissed by God”, and with that he winked and walked out into the still snowing night, leaving me with a smile and the perfect descriptor for yet another perfect night of good living.

It has been a week since Zakir Hussain brought the Masters of Percussion to Colorado, and although the review is already in the bag, there are still a few things left unsaid. As any concert photographer who has been around will tell you, catching candid moments others do not get to see is often more exciting and thrilling than covering the actual event itself. From soundchecks to the backstage door to someone making a phone call, to be a fly on the wall as performers interact as people, sharing their road relationships, making each other laugh, is what those special photographs are made of and when you chase this dream for decades, these are the moments that make us shutterbugs giddy.

The gracious Zakir Hussain and the equally divine people who surround him gave Grateful Web the opportunity to do so and it was a pleasure to catch a glimpse behind the curtain. From the get go, it was easy to see that these chronos conduits have a connection that goes beyond the professional.

Soundcheck was set for mid-afternoon and one by one, everyone trickled onto the stage. First was Tupac and his early entrance was probably due to having the most equipment to set up and run through. Next came Sabir, wide smiled and talking on his phone. The wide shouldered but graciously spirited Navin followed and took to his riser set across from Sabir and just off to the left of Tupac. Eventually the solemn Abbos took his seat at center stage, focused on his instrumentation and acrobatics, stoic in his appearance, only a slight smile ever escaping his gaze. Throughout the set up and rudimentary tuning, these guys were chatting, making videos of each other, and even participating in Facetime with loved ones from the other side of the globe. Their inviting natures demonstrated their outward love for life and their warm emotion spilled over in invitation to the front of house staff who were getting them set up, exchanging stories and laughter with them as though they had been sharing the same hotels and van rides all along.

Eventually Zakir made his way in and observing him through the soundcheck, it was clear to see that he is a perfectionist when it comes to not only dialing in the perfect sound, but when considering the whole scene. At one point, he could hear the tiniest reverb, a sound most others on stage could not detect and called out the db level he thought it was at to Monitor Max and nailed it within 5 dbs of where it was located. At another point, he drew his concerns for the absent audience, stating that certain patrons would not be able to see him because of sound equipment and other obstructions. It was apparent that this man is about quality over quantity at every step and although he wants it the way he wants it, he is no prima donna. His goal is perfection in the moment and it was great to see that once the distractions were dealt with, he chided and chummed comically along with everyone else on stage.

Although most bands slot a certain amount of time for soundcheck and only use a fraction, Zakir made sure to use every last minute of the full two hours afforded him. Even after the run through was complete, it was interesting to see several of the members return to the stage for just a little more fine tuning, desiring the evening to be the best it could possibly be and from what these ears heard just a few hours later, it certainly was.

In closing, thank you once again Dennis McNally for the access and being the endless perpetuator of great music and thank you Sean Flynn for that warm expression and inviting greeting you carry. The both of you are huge contributors to making the magic happen. To Zakir and The Masters: thank you for allowing me to chase my dream on your stage and capture your wonder from the shadows. May the images I make do justice to the wonder and creativity that is the live moment you are sharing with the world.

Last week, Phish made their long awaited return to the William Randolph Hearst Greek Theatre, better known as The Greek, and as expected, turned out three great nights of playing in one of northern California’s most reputable and intimate venues. Sitting at the crown of UC Berkeley with its iconic columns and a long history of incredible performances, the 8500 phans who got to witness magic incarnate once again danced and left floating on cloud nine, enraptured in jam and joy. Having only played the venue four times ever as Phish and this being their first return since 2010, anticipation, excitement, and downright giddiness were palpable across message boards as the mid-April dates drew closer. Although the shows were slotted for Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, the events sold out within minutes of going on sale and the aftermarket was flooded with requests and even some begging from phriends trying to get themselves and others to The Greek.

Following back-to-back great nights in Seattle, day one in northern California for The Phish from Vermont finally arrived and getting up to the venue in the late morning, it was no surprise to see a line already formed by those committed to catching history from the rail in the general admission venue. Equally as expected, the line for the limited-edition posters had already formed, but only at a fraction of the entry point.

With a staunch curfew of 10 pm, the Grecian bowl advertised doors at five with a start of six, and surprisingly, for most of the early afternoon hours, the line remained quite tame and short. The majority of those living on California time really didn’t start amassing until between three and four, and when they showed up, the line grew quickly and extended down the street far out of eyesight and glowed with conversation, color and more donuts than an early morning office party.

With sun shining through intermittent cloud cover, the vibe among the gathered was light and bright, smiles and signs of affection seen from every angle as new friends were being made and familiar faces reconnected. When the line started to move, the early entry lottery winners were first and numbered 500, followed by ADA guests, and then the general masses, all of which seemed content and unhurried, pleasantly making their way up the switchback ramp before descending onto the floor of the amphitheater.

As the clock ticked down, show time was quickly approaching and the endless stream of attendees showed no gaps or signs of slowing and as six finally came and went, it was apparent the band was going to push in order to allow for the droves still outside of security to get in before unleashing night one. The word came down that 6:30 would be the time to get things going, but with still person after person steadily streaming in, the band held out until 6:45.

With plenty of daylight left, the band walked on under purple lights and the gray pillared backdrop under a deafening roar of excitement. With grins as wide as the open sky, each of the four members took time to survey the audience, looking for familiar faces and taking in the beauty of the scene along with the grandeur of the welcoming fanfare that seemed to roar for more than a minute. Getting comfortable and making sure that everything was a go, the four hosemen of the harmonic locked eyes as Anastasio silently counted off the opening number, the crowd waiting in silent anticipation of what would be the first tune on such a special night in such a special place. With a final flick of the wrist to establish the meter, the band sped into the first day with a tune devoid of regret: “The Curtain With”. As the all too familiar opening ramp fired up, the fanbase lost their marbles and let the band know that they were ready to throw in. Besides “The Curtain” being an elusive finding in the band’s canon, a performance alongside the accompanying “With” would further stoke the fires of excitement, as these renditions are even more of a rarity, and within that context of scarcity, this would mark the first performance of the extended piece in 117 shows since 2019. From a global perspective of the west coast spring tour, this would also represent the only significant bust out. All of this combined, certainly reinforced that the band was as keen to how special their return to Berkeley was as the crowd did. Although the tune got off to a bumpy start, the group finally settled in and achieved the (un)expected, garnering a huge wave of thanks from the charged onlookers.

Without a pause or breath, Anastasio ground out the opening chords of “Carini” and from an overview of the well packed basin, the whole placed swelled and turned under the hard edge. With the opening stanza, Trey called an audible to Dick’s legendary naked dude who had passed away the previous day from his battle with cancer, dedicating the associated tune with “One for Frenchie here, one for Frenchie”. Two and a half minutes into this one, the band finished the lyrics and left the remaining open ended eight to draw this one out. From resonate effects to some great tempo shifts and original melodies, “Carini” took on a few different faces, beginning in shadow and transitioning into light, a perfect juxtaposition as the sun continued to lower towards the horizon.

The change in feeling resulted into the perfect setup and segue for the sweet sounds of “All of These Dreams”. With many singing along on the ballad, this infrequent piece showed through Phish’s talent at swinging the spectrum from arena rocker to sensitive reflection. McConnell took a delicate solo albeit a bit short lived, but in the end the lucid promise got its message across and the audience remained engaged and thanked the band accordingly. Beaming with both an inner and outer joy, Anastasio paused at the microphone: “Thanks everybody. This is really something else, this place!”, breaking up in the end in laughter as the crowd cheered the frontman on.

With some minor tuning, Anastasio leaned in again and stated, “Try this out” as the band started in with the familiar “Stash”. The midsection really put Gordon at the forefront of the mix on his new Serek bass. His new stringed extension sounded oh so sweet and he was obviously digging stretching it out. The jam breathed well and the acoustics of The Greek had the bowl running over with clear and distinct textures, a great opportunity for the focused listener to turn inward and take in each player’s contribution without being overwhelmed in over stimulation. Although there was no big finish here, it was still a solid twelve-minute version.

“Halfway to the Moon” put McConnell in the spotlight and was perceived by many as his nod to “Frenchie”. Getting the keyed treatment between stanzas, McConnell hit all the lyrics with Anastasio contributing back up harmonies. The end rollicked along and had The Chairman of The Boards up and down the eighty-eight of the grand piano as Fishman shuffled, popped, and filled, pushing his bandmates on for more.

Next up, Gordon’s solo endeavor “Mull” made its eighth appearance in Phish setlists and for anyone who is a “Mike Fan”, this one tickled the inner cactus. From a thick and pronounced low end to quirky lyrics presented through Gordo’s unique voice, this one was very danceable and gelled into the groove early. Supported solidly by McConnell and Fishman, Anastasio got in a bit of an acrobatic workout as Gordon fretted away up and down the neck.

With the final crash of “Mull”, the band continued the upbeat feeling with “Undermind”. Yet another relative rarity, typically only played a handful of times each year, the calypso vibe had everyone smiling and shaking their groove thing. In syncopated symbiosis, Fishman oscillated between toms, snare, cymbals, and cowbell, all four appendages working in unison and independently, boggling the ear as the eyes widened mesmerized. McConnell got thick on the Clav and Gordon oft afforded the higher registry while Anastasio chopped and bent notes, all to the pleasure of the house.

“Theme From The Bottom” served as the set closer and gave the hopeful one last chance at the band achieving liftoff. The lyrical read was flawless and the band moved into the instrumental a little unsteady but quickly found confident footing. Anastasio’s playing was emotional with intent and led the tune in an unhurried fashion that had the quartet hitting the big notes in unison. Although this one seemed to be cut a little too short for the liking of many, this may have been in an effort to conserve time for set two with the impending curfew drawing ever closer.

With a thirty-minute intermission and the night fully upon the sold-out crowd, the band returned to the stage to cooler temperatures, a bit of precipitation, and everyone fully prepared to have their faces melted and their minds marveled. “My Soul” got everyone back on their feet and dancing again. McConnell took the first lead, keeping it bluesy for several measures before rolling out the rapid fire while the rest of the band hung back. Anastasio was up next and got the front row throwing their hands in the air in revival.

With an abrupt rockstar finish, JEMP made the jump and slid right into “Tweezer”, stimulating the crowd to egg them on to greatness and greatness is just what the phaithful got, nearly forty-four minutes of it. Beginning with a quick read of the lyrics and Gordon’s first use of his latest sonic addition, the Nixa Wobbler from Andy Graham, the band got right down to business early on. Starting off with some backbeat breaks by Fishman and bluesy fills from Anastasio, McConnell laying in some funk structure while Gordon rumbled, “Tweezer” got going in all the right ways. The first transition lightened as McConnell revolved from synth to classical in the grandest fashion, the rest of the group laying back, Anastasio utilizing a muted wah. The jam hinted at “Sneakin’ Sally” about ten minutes in, and although it would have been happily received, The Greek was content to let the jam jam on. As the “Sally” potential faded into the rearview, Gordon slipped into some sick envelope action, setting up Anastasio for some grimaced rock star directive, filling the night sky with a multitude of bent and elongated notes that just had everyone calling out for more. Sixteen minutes in, straight fire morphed into ethereal echo and the participants began to levitate under the psychedelic slip of Kuroda’s light orchestration. McConnell moved to the synth lab while Gordon and Fishman held steady, Anastasio seeking his spot in the mix. Finally locking in on a theme, the four moved ahead for multiple measures before disintegration once again set in and remnant potentials of “No Quarter” came and went. At twenty-four minutes, tripping the light fantastic was no longer an option, but rather the status quo and it was obvious that the band was tapping into IT. With slowed drum fills and haunting reverb that shook the visceral dynamic, the four headed dark creature was audibly upon us all and with every passing moment, it grew and grew, devouring every soul in its path, feeding and breathing and feeding more, each participant eager to give themselves over to its insatiable appetite. When it swallowed everyone in the room, twenty-nine minutes in, the comforting, exciting nightmare was over and the band came back to the “Tweezer” theme. This too served only one as a momentary marker of recognition, reminding those lost in the flow what song we were amidst. Touching on some Plinko-style before moving into some defined pauses that afforded the audience to contribute cheers around the backdrop of a very danceable groove, Gordon returned to the Wobbler for this section, adding to both his own noticeable delight as well as those close enough to detect it. At thirty-five minutes, the band brushed up against the celestial briefly before retreating back to the comfort of the well-oxygenated dance groove, this section showing off the fun and pop of Anastasio as McConnell smiled along with his prestidigitation. At forty minutes, the feel was one of elation and embrace, the band blooming over and over again, caressing the crowd in purity and gratitude, and like an old friend, the listeners intently reciprocated.

When the level of emotional connection seemed as if it could go no deeper, without a cue or clue, the band elevated it all and slipped into “Simple”, lighting the fuse that sent a visible wave throughout the audience. Singing along with the band on the anthemic choice, the crowd contributed to every word. At the final read, the band pulled back and softened, opting again for texture vs onslaught, feeding the ears with pleasure for a few minutes. Comfort achieved, the band once again began to morph and shift, getting spacey with sporadic cycles of dissonance and alien speak, eventually transporting all passengers off world. Eleven minutes in, “Hold Your Head Up” and a Fishman moment seemed on the horizon, but quickly faded into a jam that contained ingredients of “Piper”. This crescendo grew over many minutes and had Anastasio fanning the flames into oblivion.

At minute eighteen of the whole goodness that was anything but simple, the mood shifted and dissolved, until the familiar riff of “Rock and Roll” fired up the whole dance machine once again. Singing right along with McConnell, the audience exploded every time he belted “her life was saved by rock and roll”, fueling the band and ramping up the good vibe even more. The closing theme was nothing short of incendiary and had the whole of the band giving it their all.

Returning for a double encore, “Miss You” got the opening slot and was considered by many to be another nod to “Frenchie”, once again reflecting how much the band and the phanbase are intertwined on a deeper level than just fandom and worship. Following the poignant eulogy, the band finished night one with a tight rendition of “Sand” that contained as many well executed bells and whistles as other moments earlier in the night, including the obligatory big finish that gives one that final kick in the pants.

Spilling out onto Gayley Road post show, the positive vibe and revelry continued as patrons were met with food, drink, and vendors of all sorts. Pleasantly, neither the staff of The Greek nor the Berkeley police department showed any signs of duress or intent to hastily usher phans off campus and it was aspects like this that made the vibe of the event perfect and reminded attendees just how special the music scene in The Bay really is.

In February, Free Dirt Records announced new supergroup Mighty Poplar and sent shock waves of excitement throughout the acoustic world. Composed from the camps of Watchhouse, Leftover Salmon, The Punch Brothers, and Billy Strings, the bluegrass community got the goosebumps not only from the proclamation of a new album full of ear candy, but also a subsequent tour. Stacked with a recording lineup of incredible talent, including mandolinist Andrew Marlin, Noam Pikelny on banjo, Greg Garrison handling bass duties, Chris Eldridge on guitar, and finally violinist Alex Hargreaves, many placed their pre-order and set the date to catch what would certainly be a phenomenal night of skill, talent, and exploration.

Last week, Colorado once again had the privilege of being the debut state for the latest and greatest bluegrass dream-come-true in the unveiling of Mighty Poplar’s live performance and, with the album well in hand since its March release date, it was no surprise to see lines forming early at each of its lucky venues. With a total of four shows between three cities, including their debut in Boulder, a second in Fort Collins, and a final double header at Globe Hall in Denver, this group got things started in all the right ways, and as it often is when you are Mile High, magic and a little something extra came with the already elevated expectations of this stringed aggregate. This noted difference came in the form of not one, but two fiddle players, as the talented John Mailander of Bruce Hornsby’s Noise Makers would also share the Centennial State stages with Hargreaves, before taking over the rest of the tour in lieu of Hargreaves prior commitments.

Last Tuesday night, Fort Collins’ premier venue Washington’s facilitated its usual great vibe for a near capacity crowd and although not quite full, the extra breathing room was appreciated and afforded those in attendance the opportunity to dance and enjoy the moment without feeling constricted. From security to management to the production team, this dive bar turned stellar diva continues to bring great music and great audiences together for FOCO.

With a hard curfew, things got going right on time with the powerhouse solo talent of Maya De Vitry. Brandishing an acoustic guitar and a set of pipes that delivered well-crafted lyrics in a way that will not soon be forgotten, this one woman show proved you don’t have to have a full band to capture the attention of everyone in the room. Flushed with stories in between tunes and songs telling their own tales, De Vitry’s delivery felt so natural and virile, bubbling over with honesty and perspective, that unlike many other openers, you could hear a pin drop as everyone was pulled into her world. Although a founding member of the critically acclaimed band The Stray Birds, De Vitry leaned on her own to curate a setlist that was all her, with the lone exception of the closer “Best Medicine”. Throughout her time, she shared written and harmonic fragments of her soul from each of her three solo full-length releases that she has turned out since 2020. Although her set only lasted thirty minutes, De Vitry was able to pack in 7 songs and made that half hour seem so much longer than it was. Opening with “Taking Up Rock and Roll”, she thanked the audience at its closing and expressed how happy she was to be playing alongside Mighty Poplar at the beginning of their new journey. Her delight spilled over into her reflective piece of youth, “Where I First Loved Singing”, preempted by visions of sitting around campfires in Pennsylvania and falling in love with the muse of music. “How Do I Get to the Morning” was followed with a story of uncertainty on a treacherous hike in Hawaii, a tipping point for the author in which she was lifted by that idea that if it all came to an end, how much of her life would have been wasted on the endless fret and lethargy of repetition and distraction, a fork in the proverbial road that not only inspired the song, but by her own admission, inspires her moves daily to live in the moment, not rested in the laurels. “Stacy In Her Wedding Dress” was a song about a former Starbuck’s co-worker, who had reported to the author that her favorite piece of wardrobe was her wedding dress, driving Stacy to wear it often and while doing mundane house chores because it made her feel so good. “Dogs Run On” and the aforementioned “Best Medicine” closed out the set and with the final notes, it was easy to hear that the crowd would have taken more had it been given.

With a short break and nearly everyone present who had planned on being in the great hall of Washington’s, the house lights dropped, setting off anticipatory cheers from floor to balcony. The six players walked on, smiling at the appreciation, and got straight to work. With just a moment to make sure they were in tune, the band started up without a word and lept right into Bill Monroe’s “Little Joe”. Recognized by many, the band tore through this speedy piece as Andrew Marlin spilled out the lyrics. “Mountain Village '' was up next and featured Chris Eldridge on vocals. “Kick Up the Devil (On a Holiday)” slowed things a bit, but in all the right ways, its longing drone and punchy affect tuning the room. In perfect transition and juxtaposition, the “Devil” moved right into “Dr. Hecock’s Jig”. In the middle, the audience was treated to an extended dual violin solo that answered the question of how well would John Mailander and Alex Hargreaves work together, and in one word, that answer was ‘perfectly’.

Under rousing applause, Noam Pikelny stepped to the microphone to address the audience:

"Thank you folks, good night! (crowd laughs) No, we got some more for you here tonight folks. We are Mighty Poplar and this is our second show in our history. We are happy to be here in Fort Collins. We played down the road in Boulder last night and that was the special one, the first show, the one not to be missed. (crowd boos, Pikelny looks nervous) No no no, that was purely a dry run, a warm up show. Tonight, is the main event. If anything, everything we have done in our lives up until this point tonight has just been a warm up for tonight’s show. The making of this record and all prior records and all prior tours, all a dry run for tonight’s show. We are thrilled to be here! This is really a labor of love project. There is nothing we rather be doing than playing music for you tonight here on this stage. What a cool venue! I’ve never been here before. Good on you, you guys! This is a great place! We have a brand-new record that came out last month and we will be playing the entire thing for you in bits and this next song is the first track. This is called “A Distant Land to Roam”.

Once again, Marlin and Eldridge handled the vocals and the tune itself swelled and showed the band’s abilities to proficiently increase and soften in sound as a unit, inducing a plethora of hoots and hollers from the bouncing audience. At its close, Marlin stated with a simple smile,”It’s a pretty fun band.”

Pulling from content contributor Martha Scanlan, “Up on the Divide” was the next choice. This easy paced number played on the emotional with its woeful composition and gave sweet respite from the bluegrass steeple chase and played more into the singer-songwriter dynamic that these musicians have often cited and demonstrated in their own repertoires. Keeping with the laid-back dynamic, Uncle Dave Macon’s “Lovin’ Babe” crept slowly forward and once again showed the control of these masters at their craft. Moaning violins and gentle mandolin accentuated this track and had the room silent, taking it all in.

Originally done by Leadbelly in the 1940’s, “When I Was A Cowboy” got a good deal of attention from the listeners. Marlin carried that high lonesome drawl that made the vibe that much more authentic to its origins. Receiving a warm reception at the close, the band smiled on in satisfaction from their labor.

Before getting into Bill Monroe’s “Mississippi Waltz”, Pikelny added a little more comic relief to the evening, stating, “Folks, we are so lucky to have tonight on the eight-string fiddle: Alex Hargreaves and John Mailander”. “Mississippi Waltz” was superb to say the least. With each band member getting a chance to take center stage, the audience kept the cheers coming at the end of every lead’s final notes. Certainly, the Hargreaves / Mailander combo gets honorable mention as the two-hit note-for-note in unison as both recognized the talent of the other.

Traditional Scottish piece “Bonnie George Campbell” had Marlin again at the helm. Soft guitar accents and revolving bowed lines warmed the heart of the audience, broadening the connection between the band and crowd. As the final notes trailed off, Mailander and Hargreaves started their own lines as the rest of the gentlemen settled back and took notice. Beginning with what most assumed a tuning exercise, the endeavor continued into a conversation of discord, complexity, and contest, inciting laughter and awe from listeners and centerstage onlookers until the two finally broke and engaged in the hysterics themselves. Rising from the breakdown flew a rapid and pointed version of Uncle Stuart’s “Grey Eagle”. Dolled out at an incredible speed, this one was a great demonstrator of the band as whole, but it was Pikelny’s lightning-fast finger rolls, played in perfect time, that really made the eye and ear reflect in disbelief. For those who love the quick pick, this one was worth the price of admission all on its own.

No bluegrass setlist stacked with tributes to the masters of yesteryear would be complete without pulling John Hartford from the deck and the band did their duty by bringing out “Let Him Go On, Mama”. Hitting the midway point of the set, this group of music marauders showed no signs of slowing or exhaustion.

Introducing Bob Dylan’s “North Country Blues”, Marlin spoke:

"I learned this song in chapters everybody. I first heard it twenty years ago and it has taken me twenty years to almost remember all the lyrics. Bob Dylan, he has a lot of thoughts, don’t he? This is off The Times They Are A Changin’ album and it's just a heartbreaking tune that was just sad enough that I wanted to sing it. It’s called “North Country Blues” (crowd cheers emphatically). Not to be confused with “Girl From The North Country'' so if you all need to take back your excitement….uh....we will try to build it back up over the course of the song."

Channeling Dylan through his own lens, Marlin championed this piece and his compadres more than played their way through, the lyric and melody shaking the spirit to its core.

Following Marlin, Eldridge laid out his own tale of desolation with a strong rendition of the well-known traditional “Little Sadie”. Starting off long and loose, the theme flexed and the band pushed the tune through onto the end. Keeping with the traditional, Marlin followed suit with a well-played version of “Black Jack Davy”.

Leonard Cohen’s “Story of Isaac” was preceded by a joyous and overdue recognition of Greg Garrison on the standup bass. Addressed by Pikelny, Greg grinned from ear to ear from the back of the stage and everyone took the moment to let him know that his visceral grumble had been felt throughout the night. When the band finally got to the Cohen piece, Eldridge and Marlin switched instrumentation and performed the meandering sway with the same level of execution as with their standard accoutrements.

Described as a fiddle tune, Bill Monroe’s instrumental “The Old Mountaineer” featured more talented exchanges of Hargreaves and Mailander, but the tasty output was certainly not limited to these two. Everyone got room to shine and, as the set was nearing its close, no man on that stage spared any expense in ripping into this piece by the Godfather of Bluegrass.

Closing on a high note, “Darby Ram” put everyone into the encore chanting and stomping for more. Heeding the call, the band graced everyone with a beautiful and quick paced rendition of Tony Rice’s “Tipper”. Although the tempo pushed the limits, the band took their time with this one filling the air with line after line of acoustic electricity. To shut it all down, the band and audience welcomed Maya De Vitry for the final send off. Performing Caleb Klauder’s “New Shoes”, De Vitry partnered with Marlin in verse and was also given the opportunity to take a solo stanza to the delight of the audience.

Poplar trees are described as being rapid growing, but short lived and although anyone who witnessed this band of brothers in Fort Collins wished at the end of the night that this group would play on with a long future, the revolving schedules of these players in all reality more than likely makes this just a wish. In the end, the band made good on their promise to deliver the whole album and then some and what everyone got was both expected and above expectations. The fun and satisfaction that these players showed throughout the night certainly holds promise that they will certainly play together again, but when is anybody’s guess. With just six more dates on the tour, if you are on the west coast make sure to catch Mighty Poplar before they splinter back into their separate paths because who knows when it will happen again.

Mid-May, Billy Strings and his incredible gentlemen of the acoustic tale closed out their three-night Colorado run with a bang. Leading with an end-of-days meteorological event at night one of Red Rocks Amphitheatre that would have had most performers and fanbases ducking for cover and postponing their best laid plans, the band and the devoted dug in and drank deep under the deluge of precipitation and sound. Night two turned out to be more of the expectation as the band delivered a great show on a Colorado spring night under reflective clouds with everyone gathered and sharing in the good vibes that seem to fill this ongoing tour. For night three, everyone gladly took shelter indoors at the intimate Mission Ballroom in the Rhino District of North Denver, where the only unexpected surprises would come from the musical wellspring that is BMFS.

As anticipated with its nearly 4000-person capacity, GA status, fantastic sightlines and incredible sound, the line to get in was well formed multiple hours before door time. One group of excited revelers slept overnight in front of Denver’s premier music destination and for them, the devotion paid off with sweet spots on center rail. The scene and vibe were positive and the physical description of community could be taken in from all directions. From friends reconnecting to new kinships made, those who turn out for these shows are some of the best examples of a healthy shared experience where the music is the cosmic glue sticking us all together and its participants are more than happy to share in the fuzzy rainbow experience.

As the opening of the venue grew closer, so did the line, until eventually no one standing out front could make out where the ophidian assembly terminated. With a buzz much like wild horses at the gate of a race, the time finally hit and with it, the venue filled quickly and calmly with those ready to have another Saturday of their lives doing the thing they love best: Getting More Down!

As everyone settled, multiple Frank Zappa pieces played over the PA, and for this listener, this just made the WTF factor needle creep closer and closer to the red zone. From the young to the old, a sense of specialness and luck filled the rectangular room as many counted their blessing and thanked the ticketing gods for their providence in getting to see Mr. Wonder in a room this size that is becoming increasingly more difficult to find on the seasonal tour dates, unless you want to go to Europe that is. As per the usual for this environment, with a quarter hour of time before liftoff, the warped voice of Billy came over the PA, announcing, "15 minutes until fuzzy rainbows," eliciting a riotous response that was only outdone with every new announcement at the 5 minute increments that are standard to getting everyone ready.

When THAT moment finally hit, the lights dropped and the voices lifted, and under a shadowed stage and red light, the band walked on, the audience propelling them to greatness even before the first note. As the quintet settled into their respective stage space, Billy, under white light, took a moment to smile and look out over the crowd, high as a kite on the potential of the moment. When the crowd could take their welcome no higher, Billy finally stated simply,” Howdy, Denver” and waved out to the listeners with both hands and an impish grin.

Running a few scales and making sure everyone was ready at the starting blocks, the familiar head of “Fire Line” started off the band’s sixth return to The Mission and the audience let them know all was well and good with the choice. Alex Hargreaves got first turn at the wheel, and employing a ghostly violin voice, put the room on tilt. Strings followed, first with a full flat picking acoustic throwdown and then transitioning to an electric guitar, shredding the room to pieces.

As the embers of “Fire Line” faded, the engineers stoked the furnace of “Reuben’s Train”. As Royal Masat thumped away at the hypnotic bassline, each of the others took turns drawing lines in between stanzas. At the midpoint, Billy Failing took some extra time and impressed the adventure with an extended solo. Following this, Strings stepped to the mic and shifted the energy from traditional standard to jazz infused insanity, including a tease of Santana’s “Jingo Va” and some seriously psychedelic bluegrass skat. The final couple of minutes went from holding on for dear life to a dream state, filled with soft accents and gentle textures. When this iron horse finally pulled back into the station, the passengers had been treated to a non-stop thirteen-minute thrill ride through multiple peaks and valleys of what would be the longest venture of the night.

Without pause, the band carried the warm endearment of the listeners into the slow introduction of “Thirst Mutilator” and slipped in for a few minutes before turning the tempo northward, setting off into a note-filled, picking charge that is the heart of this tune. Nearing six minutes, the effect pedals came out and the landscape shifted again. Airy, light, floating, the maestros of acoustic color added strokes to the canvas, playing off each other resulting in a melodic composition that finally took further flight on John Hartford’s “Steam Powered Aereo Plane”. Belting out the lyrics with confidence, Failing succeeded at channeling Hartford and hitting the falsetto high notes sending smiles throughout the room, including his bandmates who looked on as he piloted the piece. Jarrod Walker chopped and plucked oh so well in support and solo, all the while maintaining that famously stoic face under the brim of an appropriate blue hat touting the RimRock Airlines endorsement.

By the time the room took its first break, a three song, thirty-six-minute celebration had confirmed everyone’s expectation of just how special this night would be. To confirm it further, Billy stepped to the microphone:

Well now! Give it up for Billy Failing right there! How you folks doing tonight? Vibing out? F*#king right! I feel it, I feel good. I love you guys so much, man. I have been having so much fun in Colorado the last few days. It’s always so much fun to come out here and play. We always have such a blast. It’s been that way ever since we first started, you know, we first started coming out here and playin’ and just kinda realizing the energy was a little different out here and always love to play and you guys always make it so easy for us. Just want to thank you for that. You know, it’s just a good vibe out here.

Meeting every statement with a wave of reciprocation, the audience let Billy and The Gang know that the feelings were mutual. Riding the emotional high of that connection between band and fan that is of obvious importance for the group, the heartfelt “Love and Regret” seemed an appropriate choice. With its bluesy swagger and everyone singing along with Billy, this one was a perfect breather in the wake of the opening frame and showed how well the group can play, both together and as individuals, no matter the cadence or style. Spilling forth the verse in vibrato, Billy put in for blurred finger agility with mixed fanning and lightning-quick scale runs followed by an lengthy exchange with Hargreaves that resulted in the violinist running away with the ending to the appreciation of those hanging on every note.

Following the reset, the sweet serenade shifted right into Hartford’s “Vamp In The Middle” and got the room moving again. A little too short, but still sweet, Hargreaves got the MVP here, receiving a shout out from the band leader at the close, “Alex Hargreaves on the fiddle, y’all!”, the audience concurring contemporaneously.

Introduced as being “inspired by an old pizza cardboard mask, the movie The Patriot and a little piece of ID card that we found underneath a couch,” the instrumental “Libby Phillips’ Rag” was set in motion with a dedication to Jarrod Walker as a mandolin tune, and with that prompt, Walker took everyone on a joyful venture that had many people reeling in laughter from his staggering stringed skills.

Certainly, one of the big surprises of the night came in the form of the traditional cover “I’m Troubled”. Recognized by many as a setlist irregularity with the opening line, Hargreaves' equally rare turn at the microphone was fully acknowledged. Only played three recorded times in the history of Billy Strings, the last being in 2018, and this one being the first performed with the full band ever, this was yet another moment in the night when everyone got the reminder that they had made the right choice spending their night in The Mission. Mel Tillis’ woeful strut “Walk On Boy” followed and just kept the set moving right on “down the road”.

Taking a moment to hydrate, Billy smiled and paused, “Thank you. How you folks doing out there? You still hanging in good with us? You look good. Good looking bunch.”

Tuned back in, the Strings’ penned “Hollow Heart” sprouted as a steadfast traditional, but morphed at the end into the peculiar before shifting into the third Hartford tune of the set in “I’m Still Here”. Following the added line “Billy (Failing) probably likes The Monkees and I do too”, Failing teased “Last Train to Clarksville” on the banjo while the rest of the band smiled and laughed. Failing lead that train on down the track, eventually transitioning into his original “So Many Miles”. Following a number of short phrases, this one turned the band once again to the exploratory. Finishing the lyrics at about three minutes in, the group broke free and ascended to the upper atmosphere. With oxygen thin and taking on a more angular dimension, the assembly eventually hit dizzying heights quickly and the Failing / Strings engines went full afterburner, bathing the room in effects and spin before releasing the parachutes and returning to earth. Where the midsection went for altitude, the tail went for the land speed record and included a tease of Johnny Nash’s “I Can See Clearly Now”, referencing the previous night’s reprieve tune acknowledging the rain-soaked Red Rocks opener and this fact was audibly noted and shared by the spectators. At its end, the room would get over ten minutes of great playing and a whole lot of fun. The lyrically morose but musically energetic “Dealing Despair” sent everyone to break with oxymoronic smiles and googly eyes.

With such a great first frame, the crowd returned from intermission refreshed and ready to dive head first into the closing set of what had already been a phenomenal weekend. Before firing up the sound machine once more, Billy took a moment to recognize the dedication of the Strings family:

Hey, how you guys doing? Well thank you so much. Like I said earlier, the last couple of nights here in Colorado have been amazing. We were at Red Rocks last night and the night before and man I just….You folks, the resilience to stand out in the rain like that for some live music I just….I congratulate you on your resilience and I am grateful for you folkses support, you know…..’folkses’ (laughs). So uh, I don’t know, I just love you, that’s all. I really love you, Colorado.

Under a veil of applause and coming out strong, set two opened with some old school traditional in “The Cuckoo”.  What made this special was that it was the first version incorporating the whole band since November 2019 and the first rendition by Billy since the fall of last year. This obvious nod to those in the know sent many into an intoxicated stupor of jubilation and delirium. The second verse even got a card playing reference to Willie Nelson, widening the grins of those enjoying themselves.

“Running” took second place and kept the energy high. The rail bouncing and the hall shaking, this one was played to perfection at a breakneck pace and afforded each performer an opportunity to steer. The reflective prison original “While I’m Waiting Here” followed and contained all the ingredients of a lasting singer / songwriter piece. Making it even better was the deviation at the midsection, starting with a meandering embrace and eventually vacillating into distorted vibration that held onto both uplifting construct and gritty conflict simultaneously, Billy maintaining the stringed softness while Failing possessed the darkside. With a minute left, the whole dropped back to the warm caress and Walker finished off with a delightful mandolin tinkering. Without a pause, Billy opened his inner Tony Rice and poured forth a great version of  “The Likes of Me”.

Pausing to connect with the audience again, Billy seized the moment to share in his delight:

I look out there and I see a lot of beautiful faces and a lot of familiar ones too. A lot of friends all up in here. Like you know, I think the first time I ever came to Colorado in my life…..actually I know this (to be true), the first time I came to Colorado in my life I ended up at some backyard pickin’ party with you right there, Roach (pointing into the crowd) and I have seen you everywhere, man.

This proclamation once again illustrated that the connection between the stage and the audience runs much deeper than ticket sales and canned performances and is rather built on community, camaraderie, and connection in a space that is more inner than exterior.

Calling on the spirit of The Red Headed Stranger, Billy offered up “a little, pretty song” in “Hands On The Wheel”, pronouncing many of the lyrical syllables with the same intonation Willie delivers on a nightly basis. Beautiful, light, simple, Willie would have been proud to witness this rendition and his work being carried on by this next generation of talent. Swinging to the other end of the emotional spectrum, Billy threw in another original with the despondent “Nothing’s Working” and at its end, the quintet got a warm reception on both calls.

Calling out a bit more bluegrass for the listeners’ pleasure, “John Hardy” filled the next slot and got the Appalachia treatment in spades. Ripping it out, everyone got a shot in the spotlight, with the energy ramping up with every rotation then ending with everyone panting, drenched, and hearts wide open.

Enveloping The Mission in weirdness, the opening oddity of “Wargasm” had many jumping up and down in anticipation. With Masat drawing out a long disfigured line on the low end, this signal sent out a call to arms and put everyone on notice. Getting into the anti-war proclamation, Billy’s phrases dueled with darkness and when the music took over, it had a full head of steam that leveled the hall. Riding high on eight minutes of electricity, ecstasy, and elation, the band shifted flawlessly into David Grisman’s “E.M.D. (Eat My Dust)”. With this being only the fourth time ever played since its introduction last year and the first one since December, no one would have been able to tell, the band’s execution spot on like they had been playing night after night for years. Hargreaves poured everything he had into this one. Failing’s rolls rolicked with a speed that could have easily induced carpal tunnel syndrome just by watching him dole it out. Billy’s flatpicking took advantage of the full neck of his six string and even incorporated some play on harmonics without losing time. Walker set out to do “The Dawg” justice and accordingly, justice was served.

Dedicated as “one from me to you”, Billy handed over the sweet ballad “Love Like Me” and this simple tale left everyone warm, calm, and cordial. Relative rarity and the closest thing to a Grateful Dead song still being played in the band’s rotation, traditional “Dark Hollow” got heavy applause and was two minutes of fun for those yearning for Billy to give up some Garcia tunes on the regular. At its end, Billy took a minute to introduce the band:

Well, I’ll take just a second here. I know we have probably called them out throughout the evening, but I do just want to take one second to introduce you to these folks. Most of you probably know ‘em by now, but uh, I just want to let you know that these fellas up here, standing on either side of me SHO’ CAN PICK! I am so honored to be standing up here with these fellars right here. Over here on the fiddle, Alex Hargreaves. Right here on the five-string banjo, this is Mr. Billy Failing. Here on the big upright bass, the backbone of the whole damn operation, the foundation upon which we stand, Mr. Royal Masat right there. Down there in a blue hat, yeah! Playing the mandolin, that is Mr. Jarrod Walker. And I’m Bill, it’s a thrill. But you know that. Y’all already know that.

With every introduction, the audience showered the stage in appreciation, spawning smiles across the faces of the humble gentlemen as they waved to everyone in acknowledged return. As the recognition subsided, another Apostel original “Long Forgotten Dream” spilled forth. Packed with on point harmonies and feel-good fillers, this buoyant vision bounced from beginning to end and set the crowd up in all the right ways for the closer of the night.

The final wind up of the evening came in the form of a nearly thirteen-minute version of “All Fall Down”. Starting off otherworldly, the sound mix moved about the cube until the loose form came into double vision like a mirage on the horizon. As it solidified and the porcine subject came into play, the audience pushed the band. Synergizing vocal effect over stringed strangeness, vertigo continued to settle in over the mass. Wah traded for disfigurement, abnormal became the norm and the audience took comfort in the uncomfortable, loving every minute of the band’s challenge to their serenity. Touching back on the lyrics for a whispered moment, Billy continued to shift the space into a possessed vocal jam that penetrated the veil between reality and the surreal until pulling everyone free from the nosedive of insanity with an abrupt stop, leaving the whole room reeling at the unreal and blissed out to the Nth degree. The shared moment in eminence afterglow even got to Billy, leaving him literally shouting to the crowd before walking off, “Thank you so F&#king much Denver! We love you! Thank you so much!”

Returning to the stage to hang their hats on yet another great performance, the Jimmy Martin classic “Sophronie” got the encore slot. With satisfaction resounding from both sides of the stage, these bad boys of jamgrass took to the edge of the stage, soaking in the fanfare and took a final bow of appreciation to the lauded reception of everyone in the house.

Like so many other shows at The Mission, fans poured out of its main doors glowing, floating, and downright beaming while simultaneously thanking and being thanked by staff for yet another night of magic. The general consensus was that Billy and his brothers had pulled it all off once again and although the statement goes “Never miss a (insert day of the week here) show”, what seems to be proving to be more and more the rule in the world of Strings and his Apostels is “Never miss a Billy show..especially in Colorado!”

When we reflect on the magic of the live music experience, what comes to mind, or to the ear as it were, are the images of those grandiose and infamous stages, like Red Rocks or Madison Square Garden, filled with a sea of people, in awe of face-melting shred fests and transcendental sonic exercises. For Colorado, these dynamics have become the expectation, and for good reason. Artists who travel here, repeatedly express their deep love and discernment for this admitted nexus of the live music universe and, time and time again, pull off performances that leave ticket holders with suspended reality and filled to the brim with unforgettable memories that are often noted as legendary by both those who attended as well as those who dial up the relisten.

But, as we all know, that magic and marvel can come in many forms. It doesn’t always have to be composed of events where fans find themselves amidst vertigo-inducing songs or pondering what ballistic onslaught is next that will leave nothing but sweat-soaked bodies in its wake. Rather, spiritual lift-off can just as easily be achieved in a small-scale setting, sitting and listening to people being people, not rock stars, as they tell their tales of craft, woe, and wonder. In a landscape of endless tours and wild anticipation, it is these rare moments, artists in pared-down environments, that often produce just as much of the goosebump effect through the raw presentation and a connection that levels everyone in the room to the most base human aspect, revealing and connecting us through truths told through musical simplicity. Most would admit, given the opportunity to see a musical icon in such a way, would be a dream come true, and as it doesn’t happen very often, Colorado, as one might expect, is just the place to catch this lightning in a bottle.

For a lucky few, 150 to be exact, one such instance occurred May 27th on the grounds of the illustrious Wibby Brewing compound nestled just off of Main Street in Longmont, Colorado. While touting a large outdoor stage and enough asphalt to host an event in the thousands, the setting of choice for this incredible performance was the Wibby listening room. Rectangular in construction and with an outward appearance of a concrete bunker, this unassuming corner of the Wibby institution of libations and liberty was ground zero for the second take on Lyrics and Lagers. Powered by the energizing and unstoppable force that is Robin Wibby, while being directed and steered by Drunken Hearts frontman Andrew McConathy, L&L successfully brought a myriad of talent once again to the front range and gave the sold-out crowd an incredible evening of acoustic players, stories, first-time collaborations, and a closing superjam that put all the talent on its tiny stage, ending the night with a bang….well, a flash of the magical if you will.

With a start time of six o’clock, the Doobie Brothers’ “Listen to the Music” faded as the lights came up on an empty stage, its lone occupant, a stool with a gray box atop the seat with a single red-lit word: “PARTY”. Boarding the stage from a back door adorned with a billowing golden curtain, Andrew McConathy approached the singular microphone and got the evening underway. After thanking the crowd for spending their time with Lyrics and Lagers 2.0, Andrew pointed out the purpose of the “PARTY” box: “If this light is on, we are taping the show so…. shut the f*&k up. If the lights are on, just be sure to be very respectful of the artist. This is a listening room so we are here to listen, not talk. Thank you so much for being here. Without further ado, I want to introduce, from Montana, Madeline Hawthorne.”

Armed with a guitar as big as her smile, Madeline got right to it with “Strange Familiar”, a piece described as being about “the battle scars of being on the road and missing home”. She continued, detailing her perilous near miss to the evening’s performance, delayed by a sinkhole on one route and met with a flood on another, arriving with only fifteen minutes before walking on. Out of the gate, her bright eyes and infectious snarl balanced her tightrope walk between rock and roll and folk, engaging the listeners with swagger and an undiminished rainbow of positivity. Her playing confident and vocal range-wide, her delivery breathed with both conviction and fragility, drawing everyone in even further.

Taking a moment to recollect on a previous performance at Wibby’s outdoor space sheltered from an ongoing rainstorm, Madeline gave a shout-out to how special the proprietors are and how well they take care of artists and patrons alike. Moving into her next tune, proclaimed as being about drinking too much, “Pendulum” swung with the blues, hitting its stride strong and true from the start while her voicing fluctuated from sultry to gritty in all the right ways.

Following Madeline’s second choice, Andrew returned to the stage for a bit of impromptu interview, engaging the singer/songwriter on her inspiration and creative process, including details on her upcoming album as well as her latest success in the form of an invitation to perform at the 23rd Annual AmericanaFest in Nashville alongside her band of prominent players.

For her next selection “Riverbank”, Madeline welcomed two talents in local guitarist Max Kabat, bearing crutches alongside an orthopedic boot, and multi-instrumentalist from Elephant Revival, Dango Rose on mandolin. Inspired by memories of floating the Smith River in Montana, this meandering piece flowed along lazily and comfortingly. The banks of the tune held up well with the gentlemanly accompaniment, especially in light of the trio rehearsing as a unit only minutes prior to this presentation.

Pausing to thank the Colorado music scene as a whole for supporting new artists like herself, Madeline introduced “Cold Shoulder” as a number off of her latest album. This one illustrated the performer’s attitude about self-acceptance and daring the world to take her as she is, flawed and without excuse, further illustrating that unapologetic inner light that is Ms. Hawthorne’s proclamation.

Under warm appreciation, the evening took a short pause to give everyone a chance at a beer refill before the program continued with the aforementioned impaired guitarist Max Kabat. Touted by McConathy as one of his favorite acoustic guitar players of Boulder County, Max began by thanking the crowd for their attendance and McConathy for putting on the event and his invitation to participate, both receiving recognition from the room that continued to fill. Beginning with “a fresh one and a departure from my normal style of bluegrass”, “Lonesome For You” was a slow ballad of lost love. With a voice akin to Cat Stevens-meets-country, this one eased the crowd into Max’s world and showed his obvious talent at phrasing and verse. Keeping it fresh with yet another newly penned piece, Max welcomed bandmate Melissa McGinley-Stube on violin to deliver “The Hole Song”. Serving the acoustic world under the newly formed Hossback name, these two veteran players took a moment to humor the crowd. Melissa recalled, “The first time that Max was like “Alright, let’s play ‘The Hole song’. I was like okay, but what song? He was like ‘The Hole Song’. I was like yea, we’re going to play the entire song, but which song is it?’”. With the crowd laughing, the duo jumped right into, yes you guessed it, “The Hole Song”. With Max taking on the vocals, Melissa delivered fully on the fiddle and accompanying harmonies. The overall body had that high lonesome sound while the bridge added an interesting change.

With McConathy returning to get a deeper look and to congratulate the duo on their recent union, the mc queried on the near future plans of the Hossback formation, Max responding with a detailed roll call of enlisted players outside of the two present who had joined the fold and spoke about the difficulty of getting everyone together because of demand and conflicting event schedules. These barriers are acknowledged, and the fact that Max is turning out new, quality pieces for Hossback gives great promise that the Front Range will be seeing more of this group very soon.

Left once again to their own devices, the upbeat and traditionally rooted “Formaldehyde” was the next choice and showed off both Max’s flatpicking skills as well as Melissa’s assertive drive, the two mixing it up in this short and sweet giddy up. Finally addressing the obvious pedal impairment, Max revealed that his handicap was due to “nothing cool” and was no more than a fall induced by his loveable dog on his way to mow the lawn. When he had finished his simple explanation, he admittedly knew and had been told by others, that he needed to come up with a better story. Melissa chimed in on the tale, asking what the footwear of choice had been on the darkened day of tall grass and love gone wrong, Max’s response was, “Crocs”, to which Melissa retorted with a grin, “Like he said, nothing cool”, eliciting laughter from the audience.

Preceding the final selection “On The Road”, Max discussed this one as being a recent revival from his past and gave a little history, “Long, long, long ago, I played in a rock band and we toured all over the United States in a diesel van converted to run on vegetable oil and this is a song from back then”. With wistful instrumentation and linguistic flashes of travel, this final selection closed out the set on a high note, showing once again the quality of this songwriter.

For act three of the showcase, Master of Ceremonies Andrew McConathy was up next. Following the standard five-minute break, Andrew took time to once again recognize Wibby Brewing proprietors Robin and Ryan “for giving me this platform to bring you guys this kind of entertainment here in Longmont. We have such a great lineup. Really fortunate to have such incredible musicians here locally.” Matt also paused to spotlight Andrew, the man behind the sound who made the listening room resonate clean and clear throughout the night.

Andrew moved onto business and introduced his set as being pulled from the new Drunken Hearts’ album Reckless Ways of Living. With a release date of June 2nd and touting an incredible addition of guest performers, including Lindsay Lou, Vince and Silas Herman, Kyle Tuttle, and Jason Carter, this aspect had those familiar with his work even more excited to hear these pieces of new music.

Working the harmonica in perfect time to the guitar, “Fall From Grace” took slot one and grabbed everyone from the start. Andrew belted this one out, often with eyes closed, deep in the lyrics, describing the meteoric passion of youth that eventually transitioned into a connection lost to time.

Under resounding applause, the author went on to describe the process of creating the new album with songwriter Dave Pahanish out of Nashville over a matter of two months, “Falling Stars” being the first piece the duo penned and formed, laying the foundation for the latest recording. Filled with heartbreak, revitalization, and perspective, this transitory tale was moving and left the audience calling out for more. Admitting that these choices had never been played live before, “Eventually” continued Andrew’s run of high-caliber constructs. This one started tranquil and serene but hit a quick tempo at the midpoint and excited the room with a rousing but short finish.

Welcoming “some friends” to the stage, Keith Moseley and Billy Failing walked on under an audibly embracing room. As “Eventually” had been introduced as the last track on the new record, in perfect juxtaposition, the next piece, “Never Say Goodbye”, co-written with Keith, was noted by the writers as the opener of the album.

With everyone thus far having had the opportunity to participate in the interview process, there was no reason why the evening’s leader shouldn’t do the same. Keith promptly stepped to the mic:

Keith: Interview time?

Andrew: Oh yeah, someone has to interview me.

Keith: So how did you first get into music, Andrew?

Andrew: Oh wow, now that is a loaded question and Keith knows the answer to that question. Well, let’s see. It's a long story, but it goes all the way back to a seventeen-year-old lad just kinda looking for inspiration in the world. Got expelled from high school, different story, we’re not going to get into that. I went on a backpacking trip called the National Outdoor Leadership School, NOLS, I had been expelled from high school and I was doing some soul searching and some…..bastard gave me a cassette of a String Cheese Incident, on cassette, and I would say the rest is history. Some 200 shows later….

Keith: That’s awesome. Real quick, this is such a funny story. I met Andrew’s mom by chance on an airplane….

Andrew: I wish he was joking but he’s not.

Keith: Many years ago, I can’t remember when you said you were nineteen maybe. String Cheese was doing a show somewhere…

Andrew: Langerado.

Keith: (smiling) He knows. I was on this flight and I sat down and this woman sat down next to me and somehow, we started talking about horses. Maybe she was looking at something, I can’t remember. I said, ’oh yeah, my wife has horses’, and she said ‘oh yeah I have horses too’ and we chatted and chatted. What do you do? I say, ‘I am in a band and I’m going out to play this festival.’ Oh yeah, my son loves music, what band are you in? Oh, String Cheese Incident. And she was like ‘ohhhh my god” well my son…

Andrew: No, she was like F*#k you. She didn’t say that, but that’s what she was thinking.

Keith: So anyway, here we are together, making music all these years later.

Andrew: It is such an honor to have written this song with Keith. Love you, man.

Keith: It’s a great song. You did a great job.

Andrew: My mom loves this one!

With a room full of laughter and a stage full of smiles the trio got rolling into “Never Say Goodbye”. Bubbling over with warm feelings and romantic positivity, the rendition’s affectionate bass line and bright banjo fills brought together Andrew’s gruff vocal direction and raw guitar that had the crowd feeling the piece so much more than just hearing it, adding a few tears to the applause at its conclusion.

Everyone viscerally moved, the room took five to converse and replenish while the “PARTY” light was off before settling in for Dango Rose and Friends. At the return, Andrew prefaced the next frame as “a very special set by two very old friends of mine.” Expanding on this opening remark, Andrew added to the narrative, illuminating the crowd to the fact that Dango had actually contributed to his first studio album and that this primary production had, in part, been put together at Evan Reeves’ place, the same stringed gentleman standing across from Dango on this very night.

Before getting to it, Dango took a moment to introduce the final third of the trio in “the lovely Stephanie McMillan”. “Running Scared” opened the set without introduction, the trio sharing a story of life’s opportunity squandered in the shadow of fret and indecision. Evan and Dango chopping out the rhythm while the mando man handled double duty, bridging the instrumentation and vocal component being shared with the soft caress of Stephanie’s angelic whisper. The emotion of this piece swelled and retreated and finally ended into dangling statement and silence.

Addressing the crowd with his perspective on the next determination and its context within the interpretation of language, Dango opened up: “Songwriting can be such a mystery and I love that this is the Lagers and Lyrics series because this next song is probably about three or four different things with a lot of different metaphors that come together to make sense…. in my head….and MAYBE that works. It's called ‘Shadow of the Horse’”. With a Celtic body filled with conflicted imagery of love and war and sung with a ghostly character, this one had the crowd listening intently, striving for their own interpretation of the writer’s preemptive definer laid over the lyrics in search of both their own as well as the author’s meanings.

As the room’s appreciation faded into a patient pause, Andrew made use of the space between to get in some questions:

Andrew: So Dango, are these new songs? Tell us about these songs.

Dango: They're the kind of songs that have been in the mix of being new just ‘cause they haven’t been played much so they were started maybe five years ago but then nuanced over time. So between 2018 and 2023, I would say a lot of these songs tonight in this collection have come to fruition, and uh…I suppose I take the Leonard Cohen’s approach to songwriting where it might take a decade, it might take a week.

Andrew: On that note, what is your songwriting process? Do you wake up on a Sunday and….what do you do? How does it work for you?

Dango: It changes. That’s for sure. It’s not constant, but the only constant is showing up and approaching it as if it's a craft, like a woodworker will show up at the table to work on a project each day. The times in my life where I have been writing consistently are the times in my life where I have blocked out the time to show up at the table and work on the craft.

After outwardly recognizing to the room how much of an honor it was to be a part of this showcase, Dango led the trio through the soul-soothing “The Pendulum Swings”. Pulsating and reverberating from start to finish, this one wrapped the room in a comforting blanket of melody meter.

Looking out for his brother-in-arms, Dango took a moment to identify Evan as “a bonafide Boston Celtics fan” and called on the audience to give an update on the Celtics’ playoff game. A fan in the front row chimed in “59-55 Celtics”, bringing a smile to Evan’s face, inciting Dango to run a scale of jubilant notes in celebration.

As any tale of loss at the hand of others has the potential to darken the soul and further spawn anger and suffering, Dango preceded his next inspiration with a personal tale of his own meeting with this life situation. His choice, rather than cast down those who had violated him deeply without knowing it, was to seek compassion and empathy, opting to create rather than react, and from it something beautiful grew: “Bleeding Heart”. This punchy closer was the perfect ending to a thought-provoking and soul-stirring set and made this listener intent on seeking more Rose(s) along my personal path to understanding. Throughout the set, the supportive voice of Stephanie McMillan was a beautiful balance to Dango’s and the steadfast delivery of Evan Reeves closed the circle of creative trinity the audience was blessed with.

As many know, Keith Moseley is the bassist for the successful Colorado-born The String Cheese Incident and since the band’s start, that is the role he has filled. But prior to his low-end placement on their infinite tour of positive vibes and psychedelia, Keith’s first love was the guitar and in fact, when he initially entertained the idea of joining the band, his desire lay in playing guitar. The band and the fates, in light of there already being two guitarists at the front, had another plan and since those early days some thirty years ago, his foundational role has been locked in within the group. Knowing this dynamic of his career, I asked Keith before his set when was the last time he had performed before a public audience on guitar, to which he stated after a long pause, “Maybe never or at least so long ago, I can’t remember when”. This answer made him laugh with confidence, Keith consistently carries that “happy to see what happens” attitude with him wherever he goes.

By the time Keith and Andrew took up their positions for the next installment, the room had completely filled out, partly because of the talent and partly because of the spring storm having settled over Longmont. Andrew, full of grins and emotion, gave an appropriate introduction to one of the most anticipated people of the night:

“I have to say that this is quite an honor. It is rare to be able to introduce someone that has played such a big impact in my life. I can honestly say that this gentleman standing to my right is not only a friend but a hero of mine. Without him, I would not be standing here talking to you all right now. That is a fact. My dear friend, Keith Moseley, founding member of The String Cheese Incident.

Humbled and outwardly moved by the introduction, Keith thanked Andrew with a smile and an embrace. Keith continued, a bit nervous and giddy, “Andrew texted me and asked me if I wanted to do a songwriter thing and play some acoustic guitar and sing songs and I was like ‘yeah, I think so….I never ever do that, but that sounds kind of cool’. Happy to be here and play the best I can through some of these tunes. Most of these songs I wrote on guitar, but again I never play them on guitar, I play them on bass with the band so this is a little new for me. If I mess up I might just stop and start over because it doesn’t matter. I was going to start with the song called “Get Tight”, inspired by my lovely wife Kristen. The first verse was written about a trip we took to Hawaii years ago with Uncle Kenny and their family and the next verse was about doing some camping here in Colorado and stuff like that. Check it out and see if you hear anything that resonates with you.” Pausing one more moment to get situated, Keith looked out from his stool at all the faces looking back, seeking some assurance, and stated, “Am I doing this right? Is this how this is supposed to go?”, the audience responds by bursting at the seams with joy and a thrill for the uncertain captain, pushing Keith to set sail into his set with a wide smile. Moving through the first couple of stanzas, Keith hit the midsection and jokingly invites everyone “to imagine a ripping Kang solo here if you will”, inspiring laughter. A few more measures and Keith is ready to return to the lyric portion and, as if some sort of cosmic joke was being played or the result of a self-fulfilling prophecy, he botches the return, and as promised earlier, he just stopped with a laugh and an eye roll as everyone emphatically cheered him on. With hearts smiling and momentary goosebumps spreading throughout the room, the main man kept it rolling, executing the ending without error. Laughing and tuning, Keith continued and comically made note of having nowhere to hide, “Yeah….. just me up here.”

Hitting on the emotional note, Keith got into the next one as “one we hardly ever play anymore. This one was written for a friend, Sara Gewald. Some of you might remember this one. It’s called ‘Struggling Angel’”. Not only is this one a rarity when it comes to the SCI setlists, but a tune like this is the kind that pulls at the heartstrings of the band’s community and reflects that their roots run deep into the fanbase. Penned in 2012, this one was born out of the loss of a longtime friend and fan of the band who passed due to mental illness. Many members of the audience knew what tune Keith spoke of even before he named it, many friends in the chairs exhibiting a discernibly increased vigilance during this touching ballad of struggle and emancipation. Employing the harmonica on this, Keith was noticeably moved at its conclusion, the audience sharing in the reverence.

In the wake of emotion, Andrew rejoined Keith and thanked him for playing that song, and asked everyone to give a shout-out to Sara’s family. Observing the moment, Andrew chimed in, “I remember hearing that song the first time it came out and It was tough then and it’s tough now. Keith continued, “Yeah, it doesn’t get played a lot. Anytime someone you know passes away unexpectedly, it's a big deal. Kristen helped me with some of the lyrics on that. I remember sitting around the house working on it and she was feeling it as I was feeling it and offered some words up for those ones so thanks for that honey, wherever you are”, Andrew seizing the moment to point out to Keith his steadfast partner sitting in the back of the shadowed hall.

Keeping it moving, Andrew turned the interview towards Keith’s creative process, “Obviously death was an impetus for inspiration in this particular regard. Are there other subjects that you find you can write about or you can’t write about? Did you write a song about Ticketmaster?”

With a snicker, Keith lightened and dove in, “That’s a good question. You know, I am all about chasing the hook and then sometimes trying to be clever with the lyrics and write a lot about personal experience. In the new album that’s coming out, I did a shift of gears and kind of a little more third-person songwriting like what is it like to be a character, like an author. I’m a Stephen King fan and he doesn’t write from personal experience, he creates characters and stories, and I thought ‘what if I try to do that?’ Some of the new songs are a little more based like that rather than personal experience. It's a crap shoot. Writing songs is still a big mystery really.”

Touching back on “Get Tight”, Andrew shared his own tale with the title, describing a game that he and the rest of the Drunken Hearts band created while stranded in the Fort Lauderdale Airport, waiting for a bus to pick them up, where the players challenged each other to throw a quarter up against a wall, and if it leaned up without falling over, the participant won. The title they created for their late-night competition was in fact ‘Get Tight’. With the tangent expressed, Andrew fully recognized his own divergence as trivial yet comical as a useless fact and hugged his brother before handing it back over to the man in charge.

Illuminating the fact that “this is yet another song I never play on guitar”, Keith moved into his original “Sirens”. Pushing the vibrato through the mouth harp and striking the ominous chords through the first passage, the recognized piece had many heads nodding, bouncing, and grimacing, but when the love-filled chorus hit, many of those twisted faces beamed brightly and mouthed, not sang, the words right along with the delivery. In the end, Keith made every change graciously and made good on his six-string abilities.

Taking a moment to invite Billy Failing out, the room erupted at the promise of the duo. Keith prefaced the next pick he chose to do with Billy by saying, “He’s so pro, I played it one time and he played along and I said ‘do you want to do it again’ and he said ‘only if you do’.” Following a wave of laughter, Keith went on, “This is a song we have been playing some called ‘Lend Me a Hand’. It's actually going to be the title track of the new String Cheese album.” With a country feel and a great Moseley hook, Billy, as expected, owned this one, plowing through it like he had been playing it as a part of his own repertoire. With a rousing roar for the two Longmont locals, Billy and Keith took a moment to appreciate the appreciation bestowed on them from the occupied front-of-house positions, a good number of people standing and giving thanks.

Closing in on the finish, Billy Failing filled the last slot and when it was his turn at the stool and the backlight of the ‘PARTY’ box, he boarded the stage with a guitar, not a banjo, in hand. Taking a moment to observe the ‘PARTY’ light, Andrew reminded everyone that “the no chomping policy was in effect and was so whenever the box was lit”. With an over-exaggerated stern eye and a subsequent hush falling over the crowd, Andrew introduced Billy, and off he went.

Opening with his original “Watch It Fly”, Billy showed his talent is true for all things stringed. Peering behind the curtain, Billy opened up, “It's been a minute since I’ve played some of these songs in this configuration, just stripped down like this. Very exciting. You guys are a wonderful audience and listeners.” Another original in “All Alone” got second position and once again showed the effortless versatility of his playing, alternating between strumming at its chords and just as easily moving into fingerpicking and back again, making it all look and sound so easy. At its close, clapping, whistling, and wooing were in full swing as Andrew took a moment to reveal more about the man behind the fretboard:

Andrew: Man that sounds good. So Billy, did you start playing guitar first or the banjo?

Billy: Well I started playing guitar when I was about thirteen. That was kinda the first instrument I..

Andrew: And bluegrass just kind of pulled you into the banjo or how did that happen?

Billy: I kinda started playing electric guitar first. So I was into the classic rock thing. And then, I think when I was about 18, I picked up the banjo and my dad had an old build-a-banjo kit laying around the house. I still have it, still at my parents’ house.

Andrew: Are these songs that were on your solo record that came out?

Billy: So Time flies, but I think it was back in 2017, I put out an album called Calling My Trouble By Name, and yeah, both of those tunes were on that record.

Andrew: And you said that you recorded that in Nashville…

Billy: I did. I recorded it at a spot called Soundwave and had some great pickers on it….

Andrew: Who’d you have?

Billy: John Mailander, Billy Strings, Sterling Abernathy, Ashley Cuttle…

Andrew: Never heard of those guys. So what’s next for Billy Strings? You guys running for president?

Billy: No plans this cycle I guess.

Andrew: Well, you know who we’d vote for. Billy Failing everyone!

With Andrew once again slipping off stage left, the audience’s gratitude finally settled and with the room transitioning back into silence, Billy tuned up and introduced the next song “My Reflection”. The lyrics depicted the use of drinking to escape loneliness, the narrator lost in solitude, tormented by his present and found reflecting on his past.

Outlining the history of one of Billy Strings’ most commonly played tunes, Billy told the following origin tale:

This is one I started writing in the fall of 2020. It was right when the Calwood Fire was happening and I lived up in the Boulder hills and you could see it on the next ridge over, you could see the fire coming down towards where I was living. It kinda got me thinking about a lot of things. I started writing this song and I took it to my bandmates Royal, Jarrod, and Billy Strings and we kinda finished it off together. This one’s called “Fire Line”. Let’s see how it goes here.

With raucous applause and scratching the itch of the Strings fans in the room, Billy pulled off a solid solo rendition. Equipped with strong vocals and that driving head, Billy closed out his set on a high note and left everyone salivating for the final set of the evening.

With one final break for beer in the rearview, Andrew returned to the stage with all the preceding players and took a moment to thank Ryan and Robin Wibby one last time for helping to curate such a special evening through their incredible kindness and distinct delectable offerings. With the crowd settled in and ready to hold on tight, the stage that seemed crowded with four people on it and now supported ten, the final set launched into an energetic rendition of “Wildfire”. With no more need for interviews and banter, Keith moved the group into an extended take on Peter Rowan’s classic “Walls of Time” and the acoustic machine unleashed bluegrass heaven on earth, resulting in just as many smiles on the stage as the crowd had been wearing all night long. Jimmy Martin’s “Freeborn Man” liberated many from their seats and had the back of the hall up and dancing. This one went on and on in all the right ways, as everyone got a chance to spill their best high-octane concoction all over that stage, leaving the supporting actors laughing, raising eyebrows, and making eyes at each other like they were on the best group amusement ride in the park. Taking it up a notch and seemingly trying to outrun the pace of the preceding tune, the traditional “Two Dollar Bill” carried the pack further and higher, and while under a deluge of rain and lighting outside the building rang in the apocalypse, when all creation could take no more inside the room and it seemed like it might never end until everyone was swept to heaven in rapture, all of sudden the room lost power with the exception of one lone white light, and as expected during the unexpected, the players never blinked, questioned, or paused in the moment, but rather kept charging and reaching for the end and when it finally came, everyone on both sides of that stage knew that what they had witnessed and been a part of was the epitome of magic.

With a final goodnight from Andrew, we all stood there in the wake of recharge, resonating in cerebral and emotional stimulation, taking in the moment. Scanning the room, this state was not the exception but rather the status quo, no one having escaped the undeniable moments of ecstasy and electricity (or lack thereof in the final minutes of the closing set). As many huddled at the retracted garage door saying goodbyes and peering out into the watery sheets, guesstimating the best time to run for their cars and eventually giving in to the realization that it really didn’t matter, squealing like gleeful schoolchildren as they entered the storm, it was clear even in the end of all we had come for, once again, we had experienced a good life worth living and had been rewarded on a multitude of levels just for showing up.

From an editorial perspective, the use of the individuals’ last names mentioned would have been grammatically correct and proper in documenting this experience, but taking in this evening as a whole, with its intimacy between audience and performers, the camaraderie of the songwriters, and the laid back and welcoming environment of the Wibby grounds, it seemed only fitting that in writing this piece, the absence of pomp and circumstance at the moment should equally be reflected in the review produced and the separation of star and gazer should be broken just as it had been on a stormy night in Longmont, Colorado

This past week, central Colorado continued its reign as the live musical mecca that locals and pilgrims have come to know as a true constant. With so many multi-night performances within a 150-mile drive of the Mile High City, it was difficult to decide what to do. From the smaller stages occupied by the likes of Grace Potter and Circles Around The Sun to the mid-level locales with Orebolo and Yonder Mountain String Band to the revered site of Red Rocks with King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard, miraculously and strangely, the Rocky Mountains were the place to be more than usual and that’s saying a lot. With the veritable choices reaching dizzying proportions, it only seemed appropriate that the celestial powers that be would throw in one more unmissable musical opportunity into the great cosmic joke just to mess with us all. This final addition came in the form of the newest incarnation from Trey Anastasio. Billed as the Trey Anastasio Trio, the guitar wizard dialed in six sets of debuts, bust outs, and originals alongside drum deity Jon Fishman and the latest addition to the Trey Anastasio Band (TAB), bass extraordinaire Dezron Douglas. Producing three nights at the acclaimed Mission Ballroom, those who showed up left each performance smiling, scratching their heads, and filled with a whole lot of new music to talk about.

With an advertised door time of seven and kick-off at eight, getting on-site at four in the afternoon on day one of the three-night run, the line was thankfully only about fifty deep, and as to be expected, it was filled with all the usual suspects full of smiles and color, sharing in conversation of speculation, expectation, and anticipation of what the hose master of endless creativity would bestow on those showing up to take part in history once again. Over the next three hours, the line eventually grew from its humble beginnings to the point where no one could see the end, but everyone could feel the electricity of excitement grow even before the first note was played.

When game time finally arrived a little before 8:30, The Mission was filled, but pleasantly not oversold, allowing enough distance for everyone to have adequate space to move between sections, dance, and accommodate those showing up at the last minute to take part in the festivities. The stage was draped in purple light and when the trio walked on, they were welcomed with a healthy and loud reception from the crowd, the audience informing these gentlemen that they were up for anything they had in store.

Smiling and surveying the hall, Anastasio took a moment to take it all in, nodding at those faces familiar to him, and when he felt it all ready to go, he turned to the rhythm and initiated the countdown. Opening set one with the bust out “Air Said To Me”, this original from the 2005 Shine album was a regular in the TAB rotation of the same year but had lay dormant since New Year’s Eve 2006.  Although on the shelf for seventeen years, one would not have been able to tell, as the group came out with a strong start on this straight-ahead rocker. Douglas’ tone was thick, solid, and forward-moving the whole time, and as expected, Fishman carried the rhythm like a German timepiece. The two also delivered on the backup harmonies and with a great multi-minute jam in the middle, everyone in the room felt we were all off to a good and proper start.

Grinning and chuckling, Trey let out, “Thanks everybody. Thank you for being here!”, before getting back to it. Originally debuted at The Beacon Jams and off Trey’s pandemic album Lonely Trip, “...And Flew Away” blew up next, and with its introductory hook of positivity and lively pop feel, this one got many boarding the dance train. Again, the harmonies here sounded great and well-rehearsed. The second part of this one took the audience on a wild ride, increasing the speed and tilting off the rails at multiple turns and bends, as Anastasio got dark and sinister, hitting full rock star mode. Clocking in at nearly thirteen minutes, the fanfare displayed at the end of this selection prompted the frontman to address the audience again, “Thank you so much for being with us tonight. This is really special. Dezron Douglas, Jon Fishman.”

For the first debut of the night, the reggae-infused, “Where They’ll Find Us”, lightened the spirit, bobbing along with airy lyrics full of vivid snapshots and a warm musical embrace. With tom fills, snare pops, and wood block rolls, Fishman slid around the kit as Douglas wrapped the whole piece in oozy goodness.

Turning back to the dependable canon, old faithful “Steam” blew its top to the pleasure of the onlookers. Although devoid of the smoky stage effect often employed when Phish performs this piece, this one got everyone going where they wanted to be. Fishman employed a few samples early on and once the lyrics were out of the way, things got gritty. Laden in feedback and reverb, Anastasio laid on the effect as Douglas rolled out unending line after unending line on the low end, Fishman stoking the furnace all the way through. Although the midsection cut short a bit preemptively, what was produced was tight and strong.

The band transitioned without a pause from staple into the new with the first public performance of “The Greater Good”. Another pandemic-penned piece, this one was also performed during The Beacon Jams and released on the Lonely Trip album. Coming in at just under ten minutes, the trio took its time with this one. Four minutes through the lyrical portion, the rest was a slow burn to a fiery end and had some great interplay between Douglas and Anastasio. What was great to see and hear was that something new got more set time than a standard, insinuating and reinforcing Anastasio’s typical posit for those dynamics that push him towards growth and creativity, a fact demonstrated once again in his newest ensemble.

Heading into the opposite direction of the inspirational “The Greater Good”, the band shifted into the ominous and bleak “I Never Left Home”. Heavy with a driving, mesmerizing, repeating bass line, Anastasio got into his Hendrixsonian ways early on, slipping tonally backward as Fishman and Douglas put the room into vertigo. At the end, Trey shared, “That’s a blues song from the pandemic. Singing the blues in my man cave. True story.” Trey continued, “Ok. Speaking of that, Dezron Douglas (applause). Jon Fishman (rim shot and applause).” Trey giggled, “Like is that funny, like as a rimshot? Jon Fishman (rimshot, more applause). Guy walks into a bar...Jon Fishman (rimshot).” Laughing at the interplay, Trey progressed his intent, “These guys don’t know what we’re going to play because I don’t know what we’re going to play, but I do want to play this since we just played a blues song from the pandemic. I want to try this song that I’ve never tried before. I want to tell you this story, but before I start, this song is called ‘Perseid’ which is like the meteor shower and this was something that I was tooling around with during the pandemic. I had a lot of time on my hands, as we all did. What happened was, with these songs, like they get written and they get put in the phone and they get written and they get put in the phone and then they get expanded on, then they get forgotten, and then I go back to them. I was putting stuff online during COVID, and this was the last one of that whole era that went up online. I had a lot of friends in the music industry, musical friends, who had not worked, you know, for like years, especially in the New York area, and actually, there were people…even one guy played on it in Europe, but people I knew, and so I kept building on this thing and building on it and by the time it was done, it was seventeen minutes long, it had three different drummers and five keyboard players, and a full orchestra and horns and eight million lyrics. Anyway, recently I was going back through my phone and found this version of this tune before it became what I put online. It was in the middle of the development, it was ten minutes shorter and there were fewer lyrics, but it was originally called ‘Perseid’, some of you might recognize it, like one of you or something like that (laughter), when you hear it. We’re going to try it. Thank you for letting us try it. Make sure I'm in tuuuune for this one.”

Under a wave of laughter and applause, the aforementioned “Perseid” began. Set within the context of the preceding descriptor, many were imagining the opening instrumental exercise within the parameters of a full orchestra. “Perseid” contained many facets of Anastasio trademark when it comes to composition and timing and for those devoted to his creations, this new piece had many smiling. Around the five-minute mark and a shift in mood of the construct, Anastasio started having technical difficulties, dropping out of the music all together, while Douglas and Fishman moved through several measures alone. After being harkened by Anastasio to come out, a guitar tech ran out and eventually changed out guitars and after a minute or so, the guitarist was back on board. Overcoming the bump in the road, the group hit the first round of lyrics and everything seemed to be moving forward, until Anastasio fell out once again, “Alright, that’s it. I can’t take any more of that. Ladies and gentlemen, Justin Stabler, my guitar tech will now fix this f*#king shit.” Providing a little comic relief while the rhythm section kept the structure going, Anastasio called out, “John Fishman”, and with a rim shot, everyone laughed and made light of the situation. After a minute or so, without resolution, the frontman addressed everyone one more time, “Ok, you know what, Let’s just stop, let’s just end. This is going to be our first f*#king set break here ‘cause I just can’t deal. Justin is going to fix this. We will be right back. We are so heartbroken to have not gotten through that tune with you, but Justin is going to fix this and we will be back.” As Fishman threw in one final rimshot to accentuate the moment, Anastasio frustratingly threw his guitar onto the stand and plodded off stage, visibly irked by the outcome of the meteoric debut that had burned out too quickly as the set closer.

With a short break and an overhaul of Trey’s rig, everyone, including the band, was ready to resume their opening night in Denver. As everyone got their business straight, Fishman tapped out a few rounds of the first tune’s drum line before hitting the June Ward sample, “Gonna be awfully hard on The Beaver, I’m afraid.” This move had some speculating that this was a jab at either Anastasio’s perfectionist self or the wrath the guitar tech had incurred during the break. Getting it all going once again, round two opened with the reliable “Sand” and the dance party was back on. With a steadfast Douglas plotting the course and Fishman trudging through the waves, Anastasio was free to accent and elaborate over the carefully concerted theme. Determined to make up for the derailed set one closer, Anastasio made his way through the lyrics succinctly and proceeded to begin the face melting process. Recharged and ready, the audience gave themselves over and the errors of the past faded quickly into the distance.

The Ghosts of The Forest original “Halfway Home” got second place under rousing acceptance and made its debut outside of its original format. This Bowie-esque piece certainly delivered and was solid from start to finish. With a vibrant bass scale at its heart, Douglas kept it interesting playing on, around, and through the theme as Fishman filled every second with odd timings and flashes of smack. Topped off with great distorted interplay by Anastasio, this one was a bit short-lived coming in under six minutes in length, but certainly showed promise as a vehicle for future outings.

Adding to the list of debuts, the original “Monsters” was up next. With foreboding lyrical content, the narrator tries to reassure himself, this dark one permeated with dread and ended in shred. Dripping with distortion, the power trio pushed this one well over the top and had those in the hall considering themselves lucky to have witnessed its original incarnation.

The Tom Marshall penned “Oblivion” fell out next and with a funky dress, this one wiggled and waved, grooving and moving. The lyric I crash through shale and splash in oil, Oblivion awaits echoed throughout the tune. Four minutes in, the jam ensued, Fishman shuffled while Douglas bubbled, Anastasio pivoting on chords and scales, the end getting all kinds of weird before the lead man brought it back down to earth.

Taking another turn on the blues wheel and giving fans another bust out, “What’s Done” from the 2006 release Bar 17 got air time for the first time since February of 2010. Although given a strong delivery, it was brief but got the crowd excited nonetheless with its rare appearance.

Swinging the spectrum from rarity to regular and shrouded in a “NICU” flavored opening, “Plasma” started out laid back, Anastasio playing with different effects, Fishman dolling it out on the toms, Douglas playing quiet and in the pocket. The middle got some interesting jazz qualities, peppered with transitory themes and interspersed with call-and-response dynamics between all three players that had the band smiling and nodding at each other. Although this one usually closes out with a bang, this version ended succinctly and subdued, Anastasio running through the head just twice before hitting the final notes.

Beginning in the clouds, new kid on the block “The Well” continued to reflect the creative positivity that is the Marshall / Anastasio connection. With lyrics speaking to the silver lining and perspective through analogy and a simple construct that just breathes a smile, it was easy to hear from the start that this one will likely become a regular in the rotation and will probably get a turn in the Phish wheelhouse at some point. The big surprise came at almost six minutes in when the day in the park turned dark, Douglas’ morphing his tone into evil alongside Anastasio’s black tone as Fishman and the frontman called out over and over “From The Bottom of The Well”, belting it out with punk-metal inflection, scaring the children of the hall the way they like it. Tapping out at nine minutes, this one was a keeper!

Laughing among themselves at the finish, Anastasio kept the band on task and started up a tight version of “Get Back on the Train”. Chugging right along, this one picked up the twang of the countryside and had everyone dancing and singing along. The ending had Anastasio fanning at the bridge of the Languedoc with a smile as big as those in the front row.

Pulling into the station and feeling good, the band kept the surprises coming with another debut with “Ether Edge”. Adorned with nature’s imagery and characters in pursuit of serenity, this one oscillated from watery wide-spaced sections to straight-ahead pop portions, giving those listening another opportunity to appreciate the unique creative style that often defines Anastasio or him defining it, however, you might see it.

Taking a moment to set up the frame closer, Anastasio remarked, chuckling intermittently:

Thank you. You guys aren't tired, are you? I’m not and I’m on East Coast time. We escaped the smoke apocalypse just in time to come out to beautiful Colorado. I think I’d like to try a little song now that I wrote during the pandemic which started out as a very long song and then became a shorter song with a different name. Some of you may have heard half of this song once in your life….and three of us may have never made it through this song in our life. We’re gonna give it the old college try!

With the ballroom laughing, knowing full well to what piece Anastasio was referring to, the band moved promptly into “Perseid” one final time. This one is broken into two distinct pieces, the first, instrumental composition in form, slipping in and out of changes in theme and time signatures, while the second being straight fire rocker, the clear break hitting around five minutes into this version. The lyrical portion felt as if it could have been pulled from a Broadway musical, solidifying on Anastasio’s first set descriptions of orchestral accompaniment as well as his historic love for the genre. Clocking in at over twelve minutes in total, the final crescendo was worth the price of admission alone and made good on the set closing spot.

With the final notes echoing out, Anastasio wished everyone well before walking off stage, “Thank you so much, everybody. We will be right back here tomorrow night. We hope to see you.”

Keeping the fans at bay for a couple of minutes, the gang returned to the stage for a little banter, storytelling, and comedy before giving up the encore:

Anastasio: You know I want to thank my old friend Don and everybody at Mission Ballroom for having us. This is such a cool venue, I love it. Don and I have been friends since, I may get this wrong, but I think Don was at the ‘92 um Phish um Colorado um Pike’s Peak or something...

Fishman: We were in the Fox Theater, right?

Anastasio: But before that, the outdoor one, it was like Halloween?

Fish: Oh, I don’t remember anything before that? Was I there?!?!

Anastasio: I think he was at um ...Don, I don’t know if you were actually at this… at Telluride at…um when we played at The Roma. It’d be 1988. Actually, I don't know if you knew this, Fish. but there’s only two people on earth that have been to every Phish concert. Two people on Earth that have been to every single Phish concert.

Fish: And I’m not one of them.

Anastasio: And he’s not one of them. It’s me and Mike. There you go. Factoid. Factoid for tonight. Some of you may have been to many shows, but not as many as me and Mike. And Fish, why did you miss that one show?

Fish: With a sigh, “I took LSD and I got lost in the mountains. That’s the truth. The kids are going to find out somehow anyway, might as well tell them the truth.

Anastasio: Fish, and then you thought it was a good idea to climb up that mountain in Telluride and see what was on the other side.

Fish: Actually we got lost on the mountain and we took the acid because we thought it would give us energy to go back up to the top to find the correct path back AND we were right! It did, it totally worked!

Anastasio: Luckily, the other three of us had some tricks up our sleeve and we played the show without you.

Fish: Jazz Odyssey.

Anastasio: And It was the greatest Phish show of all time! You should have heard it. It was incredible! It was amazing!

Anastasio: Ladies and gentlemen, can we please have a warm hand for my dear friend, the sickest bass player in the universe, Mister Dezron Douglas, right here. Rocket ship to Mars, man! And on the drums, that’s Mr. Jon Fishman (rimshot).

High on nostalgia and glee, Anastasio jumped right into “Story of the Ghost” with Douglas and Fishman getting right in line behind him. This eleven-minute gem closed opening night with a bang. Continuing the comedy, this one got the lyrical change “I feel I never told you, the story of Fish in Telluride” before entering jam land. Getting the treatment for nearly seven minutes, Fishman shuffled and snaked, Douglas laid out the cosmic morse code, while Anastasio bebopped, the ending coming to a frenetic end that kept moving skyward until there was nowhere left to go, the shattered pieces falling back to earth, pleasantly destroyed.

In light of the latest lineup and a slew of new material, many who attended the inaugural night of the Trey Anastasio Trio walked out into the damp streets of the RiNo district of Denver happily surprised and very glad they came to see the start of something new. With little to no expectation, it was great to catch so many originals in lieu of a rehashing of TAB. Although the pared-down sound sans the horns probably had some wishing for more, the power of the trio held its own throughout. The takeaways from night one was that these three gentlemen were well rehearsed and having a visibly great time on stage and one couldn’t help thinking of the great Band of Gypsys when seeing this electric threesome crushing the house with their sound and swinging through multiple genres, including the blues, jazz, rock and roll, and classical. Thank you to the good people who support Trey and his creative endeavor, giving us all something unique to chase and catch, even if, like life, it ain’t perfect.

This past Saturday, Widespread Panic played their 68th show at the infamous Red Rocks Amphitheatre as the middle night of their annual multi-event run. Making the magic happen as a headliner at this mecca for music since 1996 and selling out the venue once again, the southern collective brought their heat under mild temperatures and clear skies, dolling out two well-executed sets full of the old-school charm and a couple of rarities, leaving all those lucky enough to get in with another one for the record books.

Strolling out right before 7:30 pm, the six smooth gentlemen were welcomed with the expected mighty roar of a very filled house, bodies occupying every seat and spilling over into the cedar-lined walkways and any nook that would have them. Looks of joy could be seen in all directions and under such an overt invitation, the band took a moment to take it all in once again.

As John Bell and Jimmy Herring hit a couple of notes to make sure everything was plugged in and running, Jo Jo Hermann got things going solo style, tickling everyone’s earbone with some ragtime builds, eventually shifting into the opening of “Greta”. With a voice 10,000 strong, the audience called out in recognition and the sunlit set was underway, bobbing, dancing, and smiling from the inside out. Herring dove head-first into his position and it was clear from his initial solo, he was packing electricity. By the time everyone got into the jam, it was evident that the group was moving on all cylinders and feeling good. Stretching the opener past the eight-minute mark, everyone pivoted from the high point with perfect time into Neil Yong’s “Walk On”, the crowd cheering and egging the band on, especially when Bell belted out the line I remember the good old days, Stayed up all night gettin' crazed. Five minutes in, the tempo shifted and the whole place lit up with the usual jam on Bobby “Blue” Bland’s “Turn On Your Lovelight”, Herring taking center stage with nothing short of incendiary mastery of the lead. With a return to the Neil Young cover, the concoction finally closed out at eight minutes and although not a bust out, hitting this relative rarity early on, it was clear that the evening was getting started with something special.

Without a breath or a true wind down, the strings and keys paused as Duane Trucks and Sunny Ortiz kept pushing the rhythm for a couple of measures into track three, “Wondering”. Hermann’s organ melody interspersed among piano sounds filled the space nicely and Dave Schools’ playing meshed comfortably into the upper registry, keeping this one light and positive. Following suit, Bloodkin’s cover of “Can’t Get High” moved the spirit onward and upward, Bell delivering the heartfelt lyrics to the eager audience singing along.

Dripping with gritty funk and a dark edge, “Thought Sausage” changed the vibe entirely and showed the rougher side of the band, a dynamic that many in the fanbase love to no end. Schools’ driving bass lines shook the walls and quaked the grounds, Herring melting it all down, so much that Schools’ equipment couldn’t take it, leaving the rest of the band to carry out the ending without him. With the final note of the piece, Schools addressed the crowd with a short PSA, “Sorry I went away for a second, but now I’m back. Don’t be too reliant on technology folks!”

With a grin and a giggle, the bassman got back to business, laying out the intro line of “Machine”. Keeping with the flavor of the preceding dish, this punchy selection wavers between wide time signatures and rapid-fire rhythms, each hit with precision from the band as a cohesive whole. Moving into the usual pairing of “Barstools and Dreamers”, this counterpart was anything but typical and came in at thirteen minutes, the total for the married pieces, seventeen minutes overall. Starting with a slinky strut down the runway, taking its time and under the hypnotic direction of Bell’s slide and a supportive groove from Hermann’s Rhodes effect, Bell got going, handling the mountain of lyrics. Wriggling and writhing, the crowd shook it all down and breathed in the open space of the midsection. Herring got first take and channeling the IT, elevated the crowd to dizzying heights. Act two got the treatment from some back and forth between Bell and Hermann, Schools’ funky rhythm intertwined with the timekeepers keeping the foundation intact. Returning for the final stanza, Bell took liberty with the standard lyrics, adding flavor and scat, a sign signifying to many that he was having as much of a ball as the village out in front of him was.

The bright and lilting “Pickin’ Up the Pieces” brought everyone into comfort and following the sparse lyrical content, Hermann showed everyone what he’s made of. Soothing and smoothing and eventually climbing to the top, Jo Jo got several minutes of the showcase. Hitting his apex, he broke from piano sound to organ surround as Herring took over, the bearded magician casting his spell wide and far.

To close out the set, the ominous bassline of “Imitation Leather Shoes” put the gnarl back to the brow, and under the vocal direction of Bell with his disturbing inflection to the unsettling words, the dysfunctional connection was complete. Bristled and unruly, this one met the expectation of its slot, sending the audience into the set break excited and calling out for more.

Set two opened with “Pigeons” and was revved up from the start. Following the lyrics, when the tune widened, Schools took center stage, pumping out the melody, hitting the high notes as well as some great improv, Hermann giving it his all on the piano. Changing shape again at about seven minutes in, the band shifted the theme, Hermann leaning deep into effect and plotting out a funky route that the rest of the men followed gladly, adding combustible materials to the already blazing inferno of ‘Oh My!’ goodness. The final two minutes were a downshift and were rhythm filled by Trucks and Ortiz, while the rest settled back and Bell repeatedly resounded Wake up, wake up, remember how to fly? against a backdrop of tattered tonal textures.

**LISTEN TO THE FULL SHOW HERE -- THANK YOU, Z-MAN (and all tapers)**

Not played since the band’s Mexico run in January and played only six times ever since 2021, Leon Russell’s “Stranger In A Strange Land” was met with excited fanfare, with many audience members jumping up and down and informing those around them what was going down. Well played and the lyrics hit in total by Bell, it’s rare moments like these in setlists that keep any music lover coming back to the wellspring to drink deep. But wait, there’s more. Towards the tail end of the tune, the tempo shifted and the band slipped into Bob Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”. Like Mexico and the preceding handful of times that “Stranger In A Strange Land” has been played, the Russell / Dylan pairing has always been the end result. Bell continued manning the vocals, but was much less complete in this lyrical reading, and who can blame him for detouring from the seemingly endless lines captured by Dylan’s pen. Nonetheless, this tune with its mountain of lyrics was well received, and again, anyone catching these shooting stars was happy to be living their best life at the moment. Finally coming to a rousing bluesy big band finish, the group moved right back into the final act of “Stranger In A Strange Land” without missing a beat. Although Bell took more liberties with the final stanzas, the band was on such a tear, it didn’t matter. Amidst the apex and more of Bell’s enthusiastic scatting driving the frenzy further, the frontman did manage to get out the important lines from the final stanzas: Lay back, relax / Get back on the human track / Recognize the bells of truth / When you hear them ring / Let the children sing, let the children sing, making for a great finish.

After a short pause to reel in the wave of energy from an appreciative audience, the band kept the segues coming with the usual pairing of “Good People > Dark Bar”. The first part of “Good People” checked all the boxes with its great boogie groove and a good reading by Bell. Downshifting into “Dark Bar”, Hermann hit all the words, and moving into the channel, the structure ebbed and flowed, oscillating between space, delicate and light, to punctuated, heavy and deliberate. Picking up steam once again, the return to “Good People” had Schools playing in and around the theme, Herring blasting off on his assortment of pedals, and Ortiz lapping them both with the astonishing speed at the close.

“Tackle Box Hero” is one of the newest arrangements to the Widespread Panic canon and made its fourth appearance on Saturday night since its debut in Mexico in January. Sung by Hermann, this one definitely has that Widespread flavor, both in musicality and script. Bell and Schools’ harmonies also sounded well polished and the execution was tight, making it seem more elder than new kid. The last two minutes got some great interplay and exploratory dynamics that made many wish it had gone longer. As the end disintegrated, “Bear’s Gone Fishin’” picked the energy back up and kept the dance party going. With Bell’s rhythm and Hermann’s organ playing laid over the steadfast technical dynamic of Trucks, this one just chugs along a space train bound to everywhere without expectation. Stepping off into uncharted territory, Herring and Bell passed the ball back and forth, Schools stepping in to carry the gap. The final minutes calmed and breathed before the rest of the band dropped out to give everyone some Sonny time before both timekeepers moved the evening into “Surprise Valley”.

With its nature-inspired imagery, this one has Colorado written all over it and was welcomed audibly. Putting in his best effort to melt faces, Herring did his job to the Nth degree. With swirling cymbals and some sweet slide the ‘Valley’ opened up into “Blue Indian”. Of note, this one showed how versatile Bell’s singing can be, swinging the pendulum from sweet and fragile to a gut-wrenching growl. Herring’s slide here echoed with a haunting phrase and Hermann’s organ warmed the crowd.

Everyone hanging on the final notes as the wind carried them off, Schools started up a rollicking bassline adorned in echo effect and everyone else on stage was quick to jump in. What ensued was a seven-minute jam that had Red Rocks shakin’, people listening, and many losing control. “Drums” followed the jam-turned-space oddity and certainly did not disappoint either. At twelve-plus minutes of percussive power, Trucks and Ortiz employed every tool in their bag and kept the flavor unique and creative.

Under a final snare snap and conga rip, the rest of the band joined the rhythmists and pulled from Neil Young’s songbook once again, hitting up “Mr. Soul” to make an appearance. Hermann’s mid-song piano solo was energetic, Herring’s closing run was frenetic, and the whole damn thing overall was just kinetic.

With a seemingly endless supply of the good stuff, the sextet, without pause or fizzle, went from the Young cover back into “Surprise Valley” to finish the final stanza and use the tail as a jumping-off point for one of Panic’s good time anthems, “Porch Song”. Short, sweet, and sending out that final message of ‘having a good time’, with the final note, the audience just exploded with cheer at the good time just had by all.

With nearly a two-hour second set almost completely absent of a pause or break, everyone inside the amphitheater knew that the encore would be as special as the rest of the night had already been and the band certainly did not disappoint. Swinging for the fences, Jimi Hendrix’s “Little Wing” was the vehicle of choice to push the needle past the red into ecstasy, Herring’s and Bell’s comparative solos explosive and true to the form. Couple this with the fact that this was only the second time the piece has been performed since it got shelved in 2007 made it all that more special for those in the know. Accentuating the end of the night with a final nod to a life well lived, “Ain’t Life Grand” got the final slot and was played with as much swagger and verve as any other piece and was a perfect cap, giving everyone one last singalong with the band.

For the last thirty-seven years, Widespread Panic has been doing what they do best and pulling it off without apology or excuse. They are servants to the moment and give everything they have over to the muse of life and to anyone taking the time to listen. Although they have enough material and a fanbase overly dedicated to their cause, the fact that they continue to produce new music and change it up further reflects that this trip they are on is a story, their story, and at approaching four decades, they ain’t tired of telling or sharing it. There’s a reason that this band continues to sell out every night at one of the most famous venues in the world and why every year they have a standing reservation, and for anyone who might beg to differ that Widespread Panic is still alive and kicking, you might just try getting in to catch the lightning in sandstone at sixty-three hundred feet above sea level surrounded by Creation (Rock) itself. It’s a trip you won’t soon forget.

Last year, Graham Nash announced an extensive 27-stop coast-to-coast tour that would bring the living legend all across the United States to deliver multi-generational songs for those looking for inspiration and insight from the renowned artist. Detailing a program that would see him visit intimate venues with seated audience experiences, fans everywhere were excited to have an opportunity to take in personal stories and hear the songs that have for many been a personal soundtrack. Making good on most of the promised tour, October 13th would be the day that the hopes of audiences in southern California, Arizona, and Colorado would be dashed, as a member of Nash’s touring party was stricken with COVID and the end of the tour would have to be rescheduled.

Being a man of veracity and an endless touring force, within a month of the cancellation, Nash not only announced another extensive tour for 2023, beginning in April and carrying on into July but to sweeten the deal even more, the unveiling of his latest studio creation Now. Of course, among those cities announced, those stops who had missed out at the end of 2022 were back on for the end of June.

As Colorado gets the lion's share of music from around the world, the Centennial State received four dates on the books, including Boulder, Fort Collins, Steamboat Springs, and Breckenridge and this past Sunday, Washington’s in FoCo transformed from concert venue to living room experience and Graham Nash was at its center.

As expected, all those who had sold out the venue last fall held onto their tickets for this special night and although there were people out front working the line for an extra, nary one was to be found. The majority of the house was a seated affair with standing room populating only a few sections in the balcony area, the total for the warm and welcoming space: 400.

Presented on a Sunday, doors opened at six with a start time of seven, and the first set started right on time. Walking onto a stage framed in candles, lit in purple and amber hues, and under a warm welcome full of cheers and applause, Graham bore a gracious grin. Joined by former Crosby, Stills, and Nash keyboardist Todd Caldwell and longtime collaborator Shane Fontayne, the trio took a moment to connect with the room before getting to the music. Stepping to the microphone, Graham welcomed everyone in, “Good evening, Fort Collins. We have a lot of music for you tonight. I do have a slight cold but I am going to give it my absolute best.”

“Wasted On The Way” was the opening tune and sounded fresh and bright, Graham handling the rhythm while Fontayne put the accents to the familiar creation, Caldwell wrapping the moment in warmth while the three hit the harmonies with perfection.

Dedicating the next piece to ‘my oldest friend in the world’, Graham sent “Bus Stop” out to co-founder of The Hollies’ Allan Clarke, explaining that the two had started the band in December of 1962 and had shared a friendship since the age of six. Originally produced on The Hollies’ 1966 Bus Stop album and sung by Clarke, the audience applauded the choice emphatically, many crying out like they were experiencing “Beatlemania”. The sixties pop feel came off as genuine and didn’t feel rehashed or tired in the slightest.

Pausing for another injection and a bit of comedy, of errors, that is, Graham began to foreshadow the next tune: “1966, I think, I was still in The Hollies and uh….” Graham pauses for a moment as Fontayne stops Graham mid-sentence. Continuing on, “Oh you want to do that?”, responding to whatever Fontayne had updated the frontman on. Laughing, Graham continued, “I f&#ked up! I should read the list more carefully!”, generating a wave of laughter throughout the room.

Pausing for a moment of composure, Graham took to a serious tone, “I know it has kinda disappeared from the headlines, but the tragedy that is going on in Ukraine just keeps getting forgotten as the next tragedy of the school shooting comes up then the next tragedy after that. But there are still people dying as we speak in the Ukraine and for those people who have lost their lives, we are going to do these couple of songs.”

The two-part ode to the fallen began with the somber “Find the Cost of Freedom”. Originally written by Stephen Stills and released in 1970 as the B-side to the Kent State outrage piece “Ohio”, this one had the peace-loving people reflecting on the importance of keeping it positive and uniting against the darkness in the world for a better tomorrow. With vocals at the forefront supported by haunting guitar and droning organ swell, this choice was moving and showcased well-rehearsed singing and how, after eighty-one years, Graham still has the pipes to give it his all. Transitioning into “Military Madness”, Graham welcomed the audience to join in on the “No More War” chant at the end and even changed one of the lyrics to read I hope Putin discovers / what’s driving the people wild, unifying the crowd in recognition.

Pulling from CSNY’s Four Way Street album and originally penned by Graham, “Right Between The Eyes” was the next choice. Soft and lilting, Caldwell’s organ infusion was the delicate background to Fontayne’s subtle, well-placed notes. Graham out front on the singing and acoustic rhythm was nothing short of perfect.

Spotlighting his bandmates, Graham spoke:

I’d like to take a moment to introduce these two fantastic people that I am playing with. First of all, on my left, is a man who was born and raised in Lubbock, Texas. That’s right, that’s exactly where Buddy Holly came from. He just co-produced my new record that’s out. Please give a really warm round of applause to my friend, Todd Caldwell.

On my right, a man I have been making music with for about fifteen years now. I really love the way these two guys….They want the song to live. They’re not just waiting for their solos so that they can rock. I love that about both of these people. Shane used to play the lead guitar with Lone Justice. Great band, really. He played lead guitar with Sting. Also, a great band. And for a couple of years there, he played lead guitar with Bruce Springsteen. This is Shane Fontayne, everybody.

Following the crowd’s gratitude for the equality of talent, Graham presented the next track, “Here’s a little song from my new record about an argument. It’s not easy living with someone. I am sure you all know that. You have to compromise where you never thought you could. My wife Amy and I were arguing one day about something and I wrote this song for her. This one is called ‘Love of Mine’.” Sweet and serene, this piece captures yet again the sensibility that is at the heart of this impassioned wordsmith. From lyric to musicianship, Graham showed resoundingly that everything he exudes is deep and full of vitality, and adding harmonica to the mix, proved that his talent shines through on so many levels.

Pulling again from the new release, “Better Life” was described as an extension of “Teach Your Children” and co-written with George Merrill who was credited with many of Whitney Houston’s hits. Filled with the Hammond / Leslie effect and inspirational content, this one put the vocals right out front and spoke to making a better life and leaving it for the kids and the future. At its close, under much adoration from the audience, Graham stated with a smile, “Thank you very much. That’s a great response to a song you never heard”, resulting in chuckling from both sides of the stage.

Taking it back to the old school and pulling from Crosby Stills and Nash’s 1969 self-titled first album, “Marrakesh Express” took the room on a ride through the coastal countryside of Africa. Caldwell pumping vibrato keys and Fontayne with ethereal slide, the train’s fire glowed and lit the hearts and faces of its passengers.

Touching on the topic of David Crosby, Graham spoke about his dear friend:

When David died, it was insane for everyone of course, particularly for his wife Janet and his son Django. The truth is, and I know David would laugh at this, we expected him to go years ago. But he made it to 81, that’s fantastic. The world lost an incredible musician. I swear to God, I will remember him every single day for the rest of my life. Here is a song David and I did in 1971 in San Francisco. It is a choral piece that he wrote called ‘Critical Mass’ and it will be followed by my song for the great whales called ‘Wind on the Water’.

Originally, the two compositions fell under the main title “To The Last Whale” from the 1975 release from the Crosby and Nash collaboration titled Wind On The Water. With the close of the introduction, Crosby’s voice piped in over the PA of Washington’s and a moment of reverence swept over the seated, observant parishioners, hanging on every note of the angelic voice, clear and moving, from the great beyond and nary a word was spoken as we all reflected on Graham’s loss, our loss, and the loss to the musical world and the future. Where Crosby’s “Critical Mass” descended from the heavens, Graham’s “Wind On The Water'' moved in from the depths, echoing with whale calls and the moan of oceanic solitude, sparse yet connected, Graham breaching the tune on an upright piano, eyes closed for much of the movement, visibly touched at the moment to the connection between the experience and loss of his lifelong brother. The crowd equally moved and took to their feet to recognize the gift and memory of ‘The Croz’ at the end of the service.

Turning the page to his fellow countrymen, Graham thanked the crowd and started up The Beatles’ “A Day In The Life”. This one had everyone singing along and had that special kind of weirdness that lovers of this time period of music truly appreciate, breathing celebration back into the room.

Closing out the first set, the trio broke out one of CSN’s most popular tunes ever, “Love The One You’re With”. With that familiar organ line with an attitude and the human connecting content, Graham encouraged everyone to sing along and everyone did with joy and enthusiasm. The tail end carried a great build-up that just continued to melt the heart and generate goosebumps throughout the crowd, sending everyone out into intermission with the desire to connect and glow with each other.

Set two started with Joni Mitchell’s “A Case of You” and by the end of the heart-wrenching version, many eyes were wet with sweet tears. For anyone who knows the history of Graham and Joni, this rollercoaster relationship of two of the most creative people ever to be born has resulted in many, many inspiring pieces of music that swing the spectrum of love and tragedy and the torment and reward that is so ingrained in what it means to feel and to be alive. “Sleep Song” from Graham’s 1971 first solo venture Songs For Beginners, continued the Joni story and has been described as written about when the two finally parted romantic ways for the last time, connected forever, but no longer intertwined.

“Unequal Love” from CSN’s 1994 release After The Storm kept the emotional theme flowing and Graham’s proficiency on the harmonica showed that this instrument can be elegant and nurturing. The pronounced backup harmonies were once again out front with nowhere to hide, delivered to perfection as the three voices became one.

Introduced as co-written and produced with Fontayne on This Path Tonight, Graham’s 2016 album, “Golden Days”, filled with that retrospective perspective, detail the author’s early days of being a minion to the moment with bandmates and eventually shifting into the transitions of time, instances slipping away with speed while simultaneously creeping imperceivably towards the end. This one had Graham and Fontayne singing the lyrics as a duo and showed how much each brings out of the other. Stephen Stills’ “Four and Twenty” followed and kept this section of the set on the lighter side of things. Well executed, at its end, Graham stated humbly, “What a song.”

“Cathedral” was introduced as ‘probably the one song I can remember that I wrote on acid’. Graham continued, detailing his psychedelic adventure, including a stop at Stonehenge and Winchester Cathedral, the storyteller speaking of being overcome with strangeness, as he looked down in his enlightened state, finding himself standing on the grave of a soldier who had passed away on his birthdate in 1799 and realizing at the moment he had no idea who he was. Returning to the piano, Graham delivered the haunting tale, Fontayne accenting the ghostly vehicle, the two transitioning the tune from foggy grounds to being tossed about in discombobulation.

Returning into repose, set two concluded with the affection of the familiar, closing with the warm embrace of two Crosby, Stills, and Nash classics: “Just A Song Before I Go” and a great parting rendition of “Our House”. Before moving into the closer, Graham paused to reflect on his eternal muse once again, celebrating how great Joni’s health is doing and giving a shout-out to Brandi Carlisle for making the dream of Joni’s recent return to the stage a reality, a sentiment that the crowd was happy to oblige. After a rousing “Our House”, Graham, Fontayne, and Caldwell thanked the crowd and left the stage under an unending call for more.

Taking a few minutes for the crowd to declare their admiration, the trifecta of talent returned to the stage to deliver a double encore for the appreciative room. In recognition of Buddy Holly and redirecting everyone’s attention to the aforementioned origin of Todd Caldwell, part one of the encore was Holly’s “Everyday”, the three voices surrounding a single microphone centerstage, Fontayne on acoustic, the other two focused solely on the vocal component. Shutting it all down without a great final singalong, this evening’s choice was “Teach Your Children”. With everyone joining in from the first word, the band was geeking on the participation and the room felt as connected, the line between performer and listener, dissolved under the unifying anthem.

The evening was wonderfully curated and balanced, capturing the new alongside the well-known, all of it sounding natural and spirited. Certainly, an impressive characteristic was how full the performance sounded devoid of bass and drums, and in that simplicity, stripped down and bare, all of it translated as so much more defined and polished, making the experience more art than show. The Fontayne and Caldwell contribution was nothing short of equal to the caliber of Graham. These musicians are seasoned and playing from the inside out, reaching to create rather than react, and giving it their all in the moment.

Graham Nash has been making the magic happen longer than many have been alive and his presence on stage was one of health and vitality. His demeanor, recall, and skill illustrate an artist without boundaries who still has plenty in the tank. Handing out a new album, a book of photography, and a list of tour dates without end, it will be a long time before this man among men, a man on a mission of peace and love, hangs up his calling and succumbs to sufferings to the mortal coil.

As always, on behalf of myself and Grateful Web, I want to thank Washington’s and The Bohemian Foundation, specifically Kevin, Greta, Ruby, Chris, and Erin, for making me always feel welcome and for incessantly bringing great music to northern Colorado in a safe and comfortable space.

While Americans were celebrating independence throughout the United States earlier this month, Ben Harper and The Innocent Criminals were making fireworks of their own across the pond in Paris, France. Performing four shows over five days at the famed Olympia Music Hall, Harper and his band packed the room to capacity night after night and gave each crowd new material, rarities, and a chance to see that the apple doesn’t fall from the tree.

Opening in 1893 and touting an incredible list of performances over the last fifty years and then some, the historic L'Olympia Theatre is considered the oldest operating venue in the capital city, and with the talent that has crossed its stage, anyone who has done their homework knows that this place holds something special. The venue seats 2000 souls but can accommodate 3,000 when the chairs that line the floors are removed. Aesthetically, the venue is an invitation in and of itself. Coming off the street, its long, neon-lit corridor with high ceilings and mirrored walls eventually breaks open into a wide gathering quarter, carpeted and terraced, and stacked with two bars to efficiently handle the needs of patrons throughout the night. From there, visitors finally pass through the doors into the performance area, a space with more carpet and a balcony that floats out parallel to the room. This space is warm and inviting, lofty and airy, and, for additional comfort, the floor is outfitted with vents and a recirculating air system to keep concertgoers cool, calm, and comfortable, especially for performances like Harper’s, where the crowd on the general admission floor were packed in tight and the music easily raised the temperature more than a few degrees.

Arriving at the venue an hour before doors, the sidewalk looked like any American general admission show with a line extending off into the distance, its end nowhere in sight. It was obvious from that introduction to the French audience that the name Ben Harper meant something and wasn’t just another show on a Wednesday night. Another familiar site was catching a glimpse of a gentleman walking the street with a finger in the air, looking for any extra tickets, keeping it positive and hopeful as he engaged the fortuitous waiting to get through the doors. Speaking with some on the line, it also came as no surprise that there were more than a few reporting that they had attended all four nights and would have done more if the opportunity had been granted.

Getting the night warmed up for the main event, a set by fellow Americans, The Jack Moves, treated the audience to a mix of covers and originals focused around R&B, funk, and soul, all of which got the crowd in the mood for a great evening. Performing with charisma and style, this five-piece was polished and gave it their all to the French audience who eagerly showed their appreciation and respect, dancing in silence as the group gave their everything over to the moment.

With a short intermission and a stage change, including the rolling out of three sizable Persian rugs for Harper and the strings to get comfortable on, the time had finally come. As the band hit the stage with wide smiles, the crowd roared with a welcoming excitement, releasing their celebration for nearly a minute after the group took their spots, completed their tech check, and were obviously ready to go. This seemingly unending demonstration of adoration had the performers standing, grinning, and looking out over the crowd, taking it all in on their final night on this revered stage.

With the crowd finally settled, the set began with “Better Way” from the 2006 release Both Sides of the Gun. This piece rings with a pulsating drone, Harper’s echoing slide work bathing the crowd in aural waves, and this dynamic, coupled with the motivational lyrics delivered by Harper with conviction, set the evening afire and tuned everyone in from the start.

Firing up the funk machine and pulling the room in for some feel-good grooving, “Brown Eyed Blues” took second spot. Of course, being the last night in Paris, hopes were high for something special and this one was the first taste. Not played since September 20th, 2015, this one was recognized as the rarity it is, many fans were visibly excited at its onset. With a great bass spotlight on Darwin Johnson, smiling and laying it on thick while Alex Painter colored the frame masterfully like Monet with a guitar, this resurrection left everyone awash with sweet sweat and dancing delight.

The soulshine “Fight Outta You” was the next choice and had Harper belting out this one with closed eyes as the crowd sang along. Like its predecessor, this one hadn’t been dusted off in a while either. With its last known performance heralding from September 11th, 2016, those in the know jumped up and down and cheered on its opening chords, but quickly silenced once the wordsmith began the reading, not wanting to miss a moment of the rarity. Chris Joyner’s Hammond / Leslie skill shone through here, surrounding the whole of the tune in vibrato and when it came time for his chance to burn brightly, he lit it up.

With a solo start, the melancholy of “She’s Only Happy in the Sun” connected with the audience right from the start. The band eventually joined in, but kept the volume subdued, letting Harper’s vocals shine through while the crowd whispered the script along with him. It has often been stated that if you want to know the quality of a group, listen to them play something soft and slow with nowhere to hide their mistakes, and then you will know their caliber and these Criminals once again proved themselves to be great at any volume. At the end, the leading man blew kisses to the crowd and held his heart, gratitude pouring from his long gaze and beaming twinkle, as he connected with everyone from the inside out.

Although performed earlier in the run, “Say You Will” was yet another one recently revived. Finding its way back to the rotation and played three out of the four nights, before Paris this one had been absent from the setlists since November of 2007. Taking a seat and slipping on the slide, this blues-powered dynamo dripped with great harmonies and a punchy gospel vibe. Joyner’s classic piano sound fit perfectly and Harper tore the air with his lap shred, his left hand seizing with electricity while his right drove the line. This one took the audience from intent listeners to ecstatic dancers, getting even those on the balcony with seats up out of their chairs to shake it all down.

Going from electric to acoustic and seeing the departure of the band from the stage, Harper remained seated and performed the simple sweet serenade “Waiting on an Angel”. Performing most of the tune with his eyes closed, many of those watching him pull the piece from his deep well of emotion were visibly moved as some teared, others drew closer to their partners, and many did both. Again, enraptured in silence from start to finish, with the final notes, the crowd let loose in appreciation of the cathartic composition.

Giving the opportunity for Harper to connect on yet another level with the room, he invited his daughter Harris to share her own work with “Longest Apocalypse”. A reflective, emotive piece, Harris’ ghostly vocals spurred visceral waves, and with her patriarch on slide and sibling CJ on the keys, the family trio drew a hush so quiet nothing but hearts opening could be heard across the mass.

Keeping the familial fountain flowing, the elder Harper brought out another of his progeny, Ellery, to lead on his own original “Grow Old With Me”. Accompanied by siblings CJ and Harris on instrumentation and vocal support and Father Ben once again on lap steel, the quintet was rounded out with stringed orchestration from the first night’s opening act Luna Li on violin. Hanging on every word until the end and unable to hold back any longer, the crowd finally broke loose in celebration of youth and the promise of the next Harper generation. Looking at the face of Ben himself, a satisfied look of pride, love, and humbling wonder made the moment even more human, taking the connection past star and fan, leveling everyone to the existential, dissolving the ‘me’, impelling the ‘we’.

Bowing to the gratitude, the children shining from deep within left the stage, leaving their father solo once again. One of Harper’s tried and true staples “Walk Away” was his next offering. First performed live in 1993, this one has been continually populating setlists ever since without any breaks. This one channels the bittersweet dynamics of desire and loss in the framework of relationships and is the perfect marriage of melody and message in its form. As expected, the audience sang right along, sharing in the reflective moment.

At the beginning of June, Ben Harper released his seventeenth studio album Wide Open Light and described this stripped-down endeavor as “raw and exposed”, recording eleven great tracks of well-crafted soul folk music alone, and although most artists hitting the road would be promoting the new material endlessly, Harper once again presented on the Paris run that his formula is all his own. Up until this point, a week into the tour, only a handful of new pieces had been presented live and on this night in particular, the European crowd would only get one new release. “Giving Ghosts” was the track of choice and once again, the stage filled with warmth and skill. Seated at the slide, Harper performs this one matching his read, word for word, to the actions of his hands, a sublime union of simplicity and perfection.

Bringing the band back to the stage, the blues grip of “The Will To Live” grabbed everyone for a gritty ride. Painter and Harper played off each other nicely, pushing each other upward as Johnson rumbled out the deep and Oliver Charles kept it together in time. The hard edge of this one had many banging their heads and throwing their hands in the air.

Placed in perfect balance to the discord of “The Will To Live”, the playful and bubbly “Steal My Kisses” had everyone singing along, embracing each other, and bouncing along with the positive vibe.

Keeping the rhythm moving and sharing another relative newcomer to the Harper canon, “Need to Know Basis” from last year’s release Bloodline Maintenance just upped the energy in the room. The band backed the preacher with a charismatic choir-like vocal complement that made this one feel more Sunday gospel than mid-week Wednesday.

“Diamonds on the Inside” kept everyone on the affirming journey and the passengers were more than happy to take the ride, singing the entire way. The end section contained great call and response between Johnson’s low end and Harper’s lap steel, inciting viewers to cheer on the two in friendly energetic competition, bringing both smiles and laughs to the rivals’ faces.

Pulling another track from Diamonds on the Inside, “Amen Omen” was the choice to close out the set. With a quiet initiation that built into an electric inferno, this one had it all. Painter fanned the frets as Harper twisted and grimaced, belted out the words, sweat pouring from his face as he pulled the words from the deepest parts of his soul. At the peak, Johnson and Harper stood facing Charles atop his drum riser, the trio pushing each other further and further. Painter went all akimbo, and Joyner standing at the organ and leaning deep into the 88, the unit operating as one, recharged every consciousness in the Olympia. Feeling it deep in the bones, the roar of appreciation unleashed on the band at the end noticeably moved the band as they once again glowed and took it all in.

Returning under the gratitude of the grateful, the band began filling the encore space by NAILING the acapella beauty “Below Sea Level”. Spread across the front of the stage, each at their own mic, the cumulative range brought it all together and exemplified once again the unending talent of this five-headed mythical musical beast.

“Show Me A Little Shame” was up next and with Joyner walking everyone through the doors of the chapel once again with that apostolic organ grind, Harper preached from the pulpit on this bluesy sermon.

Following up with another spiritual, “When She Believes” had Joyner take up the accordion, while the rest of the band backed in quiet repose, Harper hitting the falsetto, pulling every word from the gut. As a song inspired by Harper’s daughter and how she would look into his face as a newborn, moving the proud papa to creation’s gift once again, this one carried that extra special essence, especially in light of the muse being in-house for the tune’s first rendition in almost a year, showing how relevant, intentional, and special this one was on a personal level for the author.

Wanting to go out on a high note, the band left melancholy in the rearview and moved into the reggae power of “With My Own Two Hands”. An anthem of empowerment, responsibility, and accountability, the room sang along, enlisting everyone in the one-person army in each of us called to fight the pacifist fight for love, equality, and redemption. Setting his guitar aside and pointing to faces in the audience, Harper focused on singing the resounding chorus, eventually dropping to his knees, begging everyone to “change the world”. Sealing the evening with a huge finish that saw Harper jump up onto the drum platform and dance wildly before performing a move tantamount to one of his skateboarding skills, returning him to the solid stage as the crowd went wild, the closer clocked in at nearly ten minutes in length and left everyone satisfied in every way.

Walking out into the humid night air, the streets still bustling with life and energy, anyone who had been lucky enough to gain entry to The Olympia came out a little taller and with a little more confidence about their ability to affect the world surrounding them, reminded to this fact in one of the best ways possible: through the power of live music.

Ben Harper has been making music most of his life and performing for audiences for over three decades and his descriptions of love, loss, and social justice themes connect people from all walks of life. His messages are easily interpreted and presented in a no-nonsense form that leaves the statements lingering alongside melodies that continue to ring out within the soul hours and days after listening.

Seventeen albums later and the man is still making magic that is interesting and continually telling the tale of life, intertwining the plight of humanity alongside his own. His live performances have gathered no rust either, as he continually comes across as enjoying his moments, the shared experience, and the connection with the band, as much or more so than he ever has. Like a fine French wine, he appears to continue to get better with age.

Regarding the audience, it has to be noted that the Parisian fanbase is some of the most respectful and focused listeners ever witnessed. Throughout the night, no one spoke out of turn and if they did, the group surrounding them were quick to shut it down. Cell phone recording was at a minimum as often others chided those trying to capture the tune through technology rather than take in the moment in spirit. No one left the concert space for the bathroom or concession during the performance, but rather patrons waited until a break between songs to find their way out of the room.

At the end of this final night in the French capital city, the audience got treated to nineteen individual tunes. With passes from the old school as well as the new frontier, including a glimpse into Harper family life, at the close of the single set, there was no doubt that Ben Harper and The Innocent Criminals still have what it takes to keep listeners engaged through expert playing and a sound that breathes with truth and that keen ability to say all those things that some just can’t find the words to tell it any better. Whether armed with an acoustic guitar and going at it solo or backed by his full band, one thing is true: Ben Harper is neither innocent nor criminal, but what he is is an unstoppable force, an unsilenceable voice that has so much more to give.

If you were discussing music with the casual listener or the hard-core fan who only follows a handful of bands on the regular and mentioned the name, Mark Lettieri, you would more than likely get some blank stares. If you continued the discussion and brought up groups like Snarky Puppy or The Fearless Flyers, some of those initially baffled would start drawing more recognition to the context of the conversation, but probably not many. Now if you put on some live footage of Mark Letteiri wielding his guitar like a samurai, the conversation would change entirely, the observers now asking ‘Who is this Jedi of the musical martial arts?’

Mark Lettieri is one of those musicians that fall into that category of being ridiculously talented, played with a ton of well-known artists, and performs magic on a nightly basis, all while most have no idea who the heck is. Born on the west coast and migrating to the Midwest’s Lone Star state, Lettieri has been pumping out original music for over a decade and touts seven solo releases alongside more than fifteen albums performing with others since 2008. With accolades as a writer, producer, and performer, this guy does it all, and seeing him live, it is obvious from his energy that this creative force has so much in store for the future.

Speaking to the unending level of energy this musician brings to the stage, back in June, Lettieri announced a quick jaunt across the pond, hitting Europe for a quick week’s worth of shows. Performing seven gigs in nine days, including stops in the Netherlands, Italy, and The United Kingdom, Lettieri detailed getting on the road with longtime collaborators JT Thomas on drums, Daniel Porter on keyboards, and Eoin Walsh on bass, and that the quartet would kick things off at the historic jazz club New Morning in Paris.

Although most probably haven’t heard of New Morning, the nondescript, five-hundred-capacity club holds a rich tale of historic performances. The dawn of New Morning started in the late seventies, first opening in Geneva and run by Egyptian journalist Eglal Fahri. A woman focused on housing the brilliant improvisations of jazz at the moment, this Swiss site lasted only a short while, eventually closing shop due to sound ordinance complaints. With a determined vision in mind, Fahri and family transplanted to the French capital and reopened the doors with the same namesake, and, coming out of the gates like a band of horses in the steeplechase, employed Art Blakey and The Jazz Messengers to inaugurate the new location. That was April of 1981 and since then, the intimate room has hosted over three thousand concerts and included some of the biggest names in jazz on its roster, such as Dizzy Gillespie, Stan Getz, Chet Baker, Pat Metheny, Jaco Pastorius, and McCoy Tyner, as well as the likes of Bob Dylan and Prince. It has been noted that even when performers became too big for the club scene, many still returned to play the sacred halls behind its dark gray doors, reporting that the sound, the scene, and the moment were all too perfect to forget and this locale was certainly a place where magic was made between audience and performer. Eglal Fahri’s vision of doing her part in creating something special that has stood the test of time lasted the whole of her life after opening this space place. She continued to influence the programming and trajectory of its roster until finally passing in 2019 at the age of ninety-seven. Succeeded by her daughter Catherine, the family Fahri continues to this day to deliver on one woman’s dream and passion for live music and the experience it brings and thankfully so, as on July 6th, The Mark Lettieri Group got their chance to honor the legacy and be a part of its narrative.

Performing in front of a packed house, the band initiated lift-off with the funky fusion piece “Bubinga”, firing up the engines with a lengthy drum intro by timekeeper extraordinaire, JT Thomas. Rattling the cymbals and popping that snare, JT got everyone’s, including his bandmates, heads bebopping. The crowd’s reaction to this one from Letteiri’s 2019 release Things of That Nature was inviting and welcoming, initiating the conversation between both sides of the stage early on. This tune set the mood perfectly and grabbed the attention from the start with its deep pocket and complex patterns.

“Big Duck” came next and dared everyone to keep up with its waddle. Throttling in the offbeat, this fast-paced track put many into a seizure-like dancing state trying to maintain the time while observing what the rest of the band was doing around the head. “Lotus” followed the spastic fowl and breathed fresh air into the room. This one released on Lettieri’s 2011 album Knows, sat in perfect balance to its predecessor off the same album. With an ethereal and wide opening, this one morph multiple times over, climbing then resolving, again and again, spanning the spectrum between dream and hard-edged reality. Fine pedal and whammy bar work on the part of Lettieri here.

Shifting deep into the blues, “Seuss Pants” was the next choice. Opting for another from Things of That Nature, the fiery finish on this one made the red interior of New Morning seem like it was on fire even more than the audio inferno lit by the band. Walsh’s bass lines shook the floor as Lettieri channeled Jeff Beck’s ghost in the most spiritual of ways.

To close the set, Lettieri led the band through back-to-back selections from one of his newer productions Deep: Baritone Sessions Volume 2. Put out in 2021, Lettieri sought out celestial events as titles that best described what was going on musically in each piece. “Magnetar”, is named after a magnetar star, a stellar body formed by the collapse of a star considerably larger than our own and rotates more slowly compared to other neutron stars, emitting x-ray and gamma rays in bursts. At its core, the density is so much that a tablespoon would weigh in at 100 million tons. Like its definer, “Magnetar” is heavy on the baritone, but keeps it turning with its upbeat funky rhythm. Walsh and Lettieri played nicely off of each other, divided and independent at times only to return to the low end in unison, emitting their own radiation all the way through. Porter laid out some great Hancockian themes and certainly got multiple rounds of applause from the audience, drenching the room in synth greatness. Many have reported that “Tidal Tail” has a Prince feel to its device and hearing this for the first time, this recognizable flavor accolade rang true. Loaded down with the funk reminiscent of the Great Purple One, this one was still packed with enough difference to make it Lettieri’s own. Regardless, it certainly put the set into one final sweat before a happily exhausted audience got a break from their symphonic aerobic workout as the band closed out the frame.

Returning to the mission, the band hit the stage, full of smiles and looking excited to give back the love they were getting from the crowd. Hitting another track from the Knows album, “Slide Rule” brought the funk. Like Godzilla destroying Tokyo, this one leveled the block. Walsh shook the fillings of all the dropped jaws with a great bass solo.

The sweet embrace of “Point IZ” showed the diversity of this maestro. Soft and inviting, the delicate lines and intricate focus showed how sweet this man’s treat can be. Floating fingers all around, the delivery of each of the players showed that these brothers listen to one another in the conversation. Porter got classy with the piano sound and rattled off a nice solo that even had Lettieri calling out to the crowd for recognition at the close of the number.

Straight out of a movie soundtrack from yesteryear, the title track from Lettieri’s second album Futurefun, pulsed with a straight-ahead rock style, ballsy swagger, and got fists pumping throughout the room. Part metal, part 80’s hair band, this one was just fun.

Reaching into the Lettieri galaxy once again, “Star Catchers'' came dangerously close to compromising the hull integrity of the New Morning spaceship. Bombarding the walls and its passengers with high-stepping funk, this one was the perfect melding of seventies rock and synth-filled jazz fusion. With flaming hot guitar and keyboard solos breaking the atmosphere, turbulent bass lines and drums hitting like meteors striking the fuselage, this one certainly reached the outer edges and had everyone hanging on.

Keeping it interstellar and hitting the calm of space, “Voyager One” also from Deep: Baritone Sessions Volume 2 brought more of a cruising speed to the mid-way point of the set. Jazzy, funky, and downright wicked, Lettieri shredded the head and channeled Stanley Clarke on the baritone guitar as JT Thomas continued to hit every change effortlessly, tastefully, and as though he was possessed. Porter’s synth explosion frayed the edges as Walsh kept the funk flowing, propelling everyone forward.

Serving as the inspiration of the celestial Vol. 2, the album Deep: The Baritone Sessions, pulls from ocean depths rather than the void of space. Derived from the same baritone love that the sequel contains, “Gigantactis” would be the only track pulled from this album. Named after a fish that can be found at over a mile below the maritime surface, this one conjured more images of a shark or barracuda chasing down its next meal rather than the deep predator’s namesake. Darting and driving with its descending repeated line brought the grit back to the room and got the band making wide eyes as they pursued each other.

“Naptime” closed the set on a high note. Ironically, the energy of this tune does not reflect anything about being sleepy or drowsy, so maybe the title’s intent is geared more towards the feelings one experiences after playing through this exercise of digital acrobatics. At the end of this funk-a-thon, Lettieri was beaming as brightly as anyone in the audience, a true kid in the candy store.

The encore slot was filled with back-to-back tunes from the 2016 release Spark and Echo. The title track took first place and this one carries so many dynamics. Vacillating in form and volume between laid-back surrealism to flashes of guttural rock, the midsection was textually diverse, Porter producing a great jazz piano solo that fits the atmosphere of the club’s history, eventually building into the weird, inciting a congratulatory riot on the floor. Closing out the night with one more, the rockstar “Little Minx” sent everyone off with a strut. Lettieri fed off the crowd’s enthusiasm, reaching dizzying heights before it all came down in an abrupt stop of sweat, applause, and everyone calling out for more.

Someone once stated that metronomes actually practice with Mark Lettieri to help them with keeping time and after seeing him perform alongside the talent of JT, Daniel, and Eoin, this remark is not far from the truth. His innovative creations reveal a brain that is constant, creating, changing, and trying to hook up with those around him, pushing it forward while listening with open ears for opportunities to come knockin’. Although one can hear the influences of the greats in his compositions, Lettieri continues to deliver with originality through his own instrumental voice. Offstage, the man is humble and accessible and seems genuinely flattered when anyone reports on his playing or thanks him for another mind-bending performance. His cohort demonstrates the same authentic personalities and communicates with each other as though they are more family than hired hands. For those looking to expand their horizons, this man and his bag of tricks will certainly do it, gladly taking you to the depths of the ocean to the outer reaches of space with a whole mess of stop-offs in between.

In March, fans got the exciting news that Gov’t Mule would be hitting the road in July to perform a run of thirteen shows that would incorporate some of the most iconic music in pop culture. Born from an incredibly special Halloween show in 2008 and only performed a select number of times since Warren Haynes and his fearsome foursome would once again give their constituents a satisfying ride on The Mule before presenting their reinterpretation of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon. As if this announcement were not special enough to stand on its own, the report also signified that the run would be the band’s last orbit with the lunar vehicle and that the outing would coincide with the 50th anniversary of the album, making the upcoming summer celebration all that much more special for music lovers of both bands.

Last week, at the midway point of the tour set up shop here in Colorado and did so in the pristine surroundings of the Front Range and Red Rocks Amphitheatre. Although the show fell on a Monday, there was nothing typical about the start of this work week. The weather was mild, partially cloudy, and devoid of rain, all of which had the early birds happy to line up hours before the show and share their stories with one another. Walking the lines, one couple told their tale, revealing that they had driven fifteen hundred miles from Mazatlán, Mexico. When asked why this particular show, the simple statement said it all: “Red Rocks, man!”. That elementary descriptor turned out to be the clear reason for so many, including veterans of the sacred sandstone as well as first-timers from out of state.

As Pink Floyd is often associated with the classic rock generation that has continually carried that era’s torch, it seemed only fitting that the opening support came in the form of Jason Bonham’s Led Zeppelin Experience, adding even more power and electricity to an already fully charged battery. Between the two groups, by the end of the night, anyone who turned out for the early week outing, certainly had much to talk about around the office water cooler on Tuesday morning.

As the seven o’clock showtime drew closer and closer, Red Rocks steadily continued to show up and as the participants arrived, it was clear that this was not an age-specific event. Parents brought their children while grandparents were shuttled in by their own progeny and everyone was in a mood for a good time. When the start of it all finally came and the house sound fell silent under a setting sun, Bonham came out and took the throne behind his translucent yellow kit center stage and called to the crowd to get rowdy so he could get the quintessential picture of the Red Rocks mass losing their marbles. With an abiding audience and having satisfied the photo opp, he cordially thanked the crowd for attending, eventually moving on to thanking his father for not only being the best dad ever but also for being a part of some of the greatest music of all time.

With that, Bonham counted off and lit the fuse with “Good Times, Bad Times” to start the set. Playing with fire and thunder, the opening tune demonstrated that these rabid rockers were refined, rehearsed, and here to serve up the business. “The Ocean” was up next and from the sheer quality of the playing, everyone in the crowd was fully engaged. Setting it off in perfection, guitarist Jimmy Sakurai’s take on Jimmy Page’s intro for “Over The Hills and Far Away” was spot on, sweet, and inspired many smiles. “Ramble On” kept it all going and James Dylan’s vocals did Mr. Plant justice in spades. Tune after tune, he belted out each line with that raspy falsetto that would leave most hoarse and full of regret.

Four songs in, it was great to see much of the crowd dancing and singing, many acknowledging the full realization that they were witnessing a talented band playing their hearts out, not a nostalgia act grasping at the money grab.

“What Is and What Should Never Be” got the crowd’s appreciation and showed off the skill of the group to ebb and flow between soft soul and hard rocking, vocally and harmonically, and the good times just kept on rolling. For “Thank You”, Sakurai switched it up and cut the stage on a double neck guitar while Dylan sang and supported on the acoustic. Alex Howland sat and worked out the keys in full organ effect while Bonham and Heartsong timed it all out.

“Immigrant Song” shook Creation Rock and Dorian Heartsong’s driving bass line powered the seismic activity and as the stage quaked, Bonham’s candy store kid smile grew wider and wider with every measure.

Radio classic “Black Dog” stayed between the lines, but was appreciated, nonetheless. “Misty Mountain Hop” kept the Rockies moving. Sakurai threw in some of his own flare, pointing to the crowd as he shook his guitar and even took some liberties with the solo, infusing his own rock star into the Jimmy Page silhouette. Nine songs in and Dylan’s vocals continued to hold up well. Heartsong bounced across the stage multiple times, locking eyes with his partners in the grind, as the room felt what he was laying down.

“Whole Lotta Love” carried those heavy balls of the Zeppelin sound and fed right into the closer of the set “Rock and Roll” giving the crowd one last time to sing along with Dylan, who took many pauses, pointing the microphone towards the audience and egging them on. Sakurai even got in on the excitable moves, strutting the stage and eventually pulling out his best Chuck Berry.

Although Bonham’s setlist has not varied much as the opener on this tour, no die-hard Zep Head who made it in for his set had any complaints. The performance was genuine and scratched that Zeppelin itch of anyone who has loved the band over the last fifty-five years. To whomever put Jason Bonham on the bill, thank you.

With the stage emptied, the dedicated crew began the swap out. For most, this would be the only time they would leave their positions to refresh and recharge for the lengthy Mule set, three-plus hours to put it in perspective. The extra time needed to place the effects was appreciated by those looking to settle in once the music started. As the seats refilled, anticipation and excitement climbed a notch as the tech side checks signaled the impending explosion of sound that would soon befall the open air, lasers firing off onto the rock walls and fading off into the atmosphere, exciting many to cheer in their sandstone seats, waiting for the moment when the house sound would go silent and the quadraphonic quartet would do their walk on.

When the moment finally came, the band strolled in, smiling, and took their positions. Before Warren Haynes picked up his guitar, he paused, joyfully scanning the audience, and threw up his hands, dishing out multiple peace signs to the love contingent. Danny Louis, surrounded by his keys to the kingdom, also paused with a smile and raised brows simultaneously taking in the adoration. Matt Abts hunkered down behind the kit, his stoic self-wasting no time rattling the brass. Newcomer to the band but veteran of the deep end, bassist Kevin Scott probably twinkled the most, this being his first time to the venue by his own report before the show.

With everyone ready, the marathon set started up with a slide-driven, organ-fillin’ ambient jam before segueing into the first track off Gov’t Mule’s latest album Peace…Like a River. “Same As It Ever Was” started with a soft lift transitioning into a hard ride. Scott’s bass lines were warm and exacting, coming off as though he had been there for years. The organ solo coming from Louis whipped that Leslie speaker like a beast of burden, pushing the Abts beat forward while Haynes played in effect and wah.

Hitting with a Reggae flavor and vibing in the offbeat, Mule staple “Time To Confess” popped through the final notes of the show opener and got everyone’s hips moving. Five or so minutes in, the lyrical content concluded, and the band got down to business. Steering through clear waters, the shine of Haynes’ lead warmed the passengers while the time of the Scott / Abts connection kept the ship steady as the winds of Louis’ digits filled the sails. With a one-two opener of Soulshine hitting bliss, everyone, including the band, knew that tonight would be something special. Under an outpouring of applause, Haynes looked out onto the full house in front of him, smiled, and humbly reciprocated the fanfare with a simple ‘thank you!’

Pausing further and before getting to another new selection, Haynes continued, “Thank you so much. You know we do have a new record out so we would be remiss if we didn’t play you some new songs so we’re gonna. But it’s a long night of music so it’s on you to pace yourselves…and us too obviously, but we don’t have the opportunities that some of you have. It's great to see you!”

With that warm welcome, Scott fired up the bass engine and everyone fell right into place, propelling the gritty “After The Storm” forward. This one definitely pulsed with that old school Mule feel and Scott certainly seemed at times to be channeling Allen Woody as he boot stomped and head bobbed, his face gnarled and living exceptionally in the moment. Although a bit short-lived, this one certainly has legs and will hopefully continue to grow into more of a hurricane over time.

Returning to the Rasta, “Unring The Bell” fell out next. Doling out the lyrics early, the final four minutes of the tune had some great interplay between Haynes and Louis, the keys even carrying a tinge of steel drum effect over the Hammond sound. Without a word, the unit painted the list in blue with “Endless Parade.” This song of struggle was handled with patience and moved at its own pace. The script reads without reprieve and to add to the blue hue, Haynes slipped in a fitting sliver of sorrow with a quote from Bill Withers’ “Ain’t No Sunshine” to close it out.

Before hanging up the final piece of the Mule set, Haynes took a moment to thank the crowd once more and added fuel to the excited fire, “Well, since this is Red Rocks, we are going to do another new song for you” and jumped right into the longest track from the new album, “Made My Peace”. A tale of torment and a prodigal son’s return to grace through realization and reflection, this abrasive choice was filled with discord, attitude, and harsh reality. The big finish had Haynes' watery lines spilling over Abts snare rolls, Louis’ organ, and piano slips and flips just making everyone fall in love with the band even more.

Under a cascade of cymbal splashes and synth, the tail end of The Mule finally slipped into passing, and multiple crew members entered the stage. With Louis holding steady behind the keys, new guitars, mic stands, and personnel joined the quartet as Red Rocks prepared for lift-off. Jackie Greene took his seat in the electric piano cockpit, carrying a guitar and setting up across from Louis while vocalist Sophia Ramos and former Pink Floyd backup singer Machan Taylor stood atop a riser stage right behind Kevin Scott’s bass amp. Matt Abts returned to his throne touting a pink dinner jacket, an obvious nod to the authors of the undertaking about to unfold.

As the stage shifted in smoke and light under the direction of Greene and Louis’ keyboard kinetics, The Dark Side Mule graphic was displayed across the middle of the circular screen hovering above the band, fueling many to cheer with its illumination. Eventually, Haynes’ electric strings cut through morph, providing context and shape to where we all were in the program, identifying the start to “Shine on You Crazy Diamond”. When the lyrics hit, everyone threw in and the geological backdrop rang out in chorus. From the start, the anthem was well put together and did its history justice. To complete the scene, saxophonist of both jazz and Allman Mule fame, Ron Holloway, walked on twelve minutes in, wailing and blowing, inciting internal riotry throughout the crowd.

Literally spotlighting Matt Abts, the drummer took on delivering “Have A Cigar”. Although drumming is his forte over singing, once he hit the added customary lyric ‘Which one of you is the mule?’, he might as well have sung his best and highest note ever by the reaction of the crowd.

With a stage colored red, Scott droned the crowd with a hypnotizing bassline, pulling everyone into the metallic drain before Haynes started up the lyrics to “Welcome To The Machine”. Abts stirring the pot with piston-like tom work, red and white laser light accented the full dream state of the synergy of Greene and Louis tucking everyone further in under the covers.

The sound of cash registers, helicopters, and a cacophony of chaos outlined the brief “Speak To Me” and eventually gave way to screams before the relief and shelter of “Breathe” brought everyone back from the brink. With bright white interrogation light shifting into oceanic black and blue, haunting, and daunting, the anxious crowd exhaled again as Haynes sang the familiar words, offering the solace of pleasant emotion.

Continuing the psychedelic rollercoaster exercise, tranquility turned torrent, “On The Run” relinquished control of the visceral from the individual once again and put everyone back on high alert as laser strobes and Abts machine-like high hat control drove the echoes of overdubbed planes, laughter, and everything odd that epitomizes the unseen halls of the Pink Floyd mind.

Abts precision eventually fell to the wayside, fading to the sounds of ticking timepieces and everyone on the ride welcomed the familiar with “Time”. With spot-on tom rolls all his own, Abts signaled the band perfectly, Haynes belting the opening words and the rest jumping in with German clockwork precision. Taylor and Ramos added to the softness and made the representation that much more authentic.

Transitioning out into “The Great Gig In The Sky”, Louis got drenched in white light, tickling the keys for several measures, before Stamos got a chance to rip vocally, showing her range is certainly not restricted to the light or easy. Her run complete, she turned to Taylor and the two proceeded in a duet, Louis providing the backdrop. After a minute or so, the duet resolved into Machlan’s solo exploration, whereupon she took it upon herself to lift her arms to the heavens and thank creation for the gift bestowed upon her golden voice. The angels standing under the applause of 10,000 witnesses, Haynes took a moment to recognize this female glory and the crowd was happy to join the petition of greatness.

Going from blue to the color of wealth, “Money” was saturated green and saw the return of Holloway. With some lengthy soloing, Haynes could be seen multiple times looking down the row with a smile as Holloway blew his top. More laser work and some call and response between Abts and Haynes, this staple contained enough originality to set it apart distinctly from the radio version, showing everyone that the band was creating it, not just playing it. In the end, as Haynes sang the final line It is no surprise that they’re giving none away, the leadman changed none away into Ron Holloway, repeating the player's name softly, as the tune faded into the distance.

Returning to the dream, “Us and Them” floated body and mind down the river of surrealism. Interspersed in the textures, Holloway once again answered the call, his accents fitting superbly as Haynes delivered the script. Greene employed a piano effect and showed that his title as multi-instrumentalist continues to hold true. Dark tints and rainbow hints colored the field, fog, and cloud pushing out from the stage and soundboard, obscuring the view, and enhancing the drift.

Shifting from organ to synthesizer, “Any Colour You Like” was up next. The keys and sax played off each other here and took center stage for the shortest track from the beloved album. Even though this version only slipped past the four-minute mark, this one was full to the brim. From Holloway’s skronk to Haynes's liquid fluid effect, this one kept everyone engaged. The end disintegrated into wind and azure beams came from every angle, eventually loosening their hold under a single beam of white, encasing Scott as he rolled out the reverberating call of “One of These Days”. He got several measures as captain, the Dark Mule hovering high in the background like a distorted god-like eye watching over his every move. Eventually, Haynes came in on with the slinking slide and twisted voice, cutting through the moment and putting all back on edge. Crumbling once again, the same howling wind picked up for a moment before a simple one-two tom by Abts dropped the band into the confidence of “Fearless,” its maternal body hugging the soul of the tattered riders.

To close out the set, the evening diverted from Dark Side of the Moon and instead posited to Pink Floyd’s Meddle to extend the trajectory of the hyperspace adventure. Performing one of Floyd’s longest songs, “Echoes” was the final choice, and clocking in at over twenty minutes in length, this one kept everyone strapped in. Leaving his desk at the back of the classroom, Jackie Greene came center stage for this one and went toe to toe with Haynes, bending notes with a twisted face, pushing the exploration and heights to incapacitating levels. Adding vocals to guitar mastery reminded many what a great player this subdued character is. Holloway found his way back to the lineup for the big finish and poured sweat and soul out into the crowd.

With the artificial winds of “Echoes” still blowing across an empty stage, the cosmonauts returned for re-entry and warmed the house with one of Floyd’s most popular songs “Comfortably Numb.” Originally released on The Wall, this one got eight minutes of airtime as everyone breathed in its atmospheric healing. Greene remained front and center, guitar in hand, and exchanged with Haynes on the classic. Standing only a couple of feet apart, the two pushed each other further and further, so much so that no one in the house was left in their seats at the end.

“Wish You Were Here” was the final selection of the night, and as the crowd sang every word, Haynes sent everyone home with a nightcap they will not soon forget. This last emotive piece put everyone’s feet back on the ground and in the surroundings, we all found ourselves in, happiness abounded, and the dreamlike journey concluded. With the final lyric sung solely by the audience, Haynes closed, “What a beautiful night. Thank you very much” and walked off stage.

Although the Pink Floyd portion of the setlist has not varied much on the tour, the material sounded exciting, attentive, and loved. The band gave their souls over to the experience in every note and no one came off bored or complacent. The production visuals added another layer to the performance and the sound was incredible. By the end of it all, lovers of this era got to see the next best thing to Led Zeppelin, take a ride with the steadfast Gov’t Mule, and say happy birthday and goodbye to Pink Floyd. All said and done, it was no wonder that some were willing to drive fifteen hundred miles for one more trip to the moon.

This past weekend, Phish took their twelfth run at their annual Labor Day summer tour closer, delivering four nights of fun at the famed Dick’s Sporting Goods Park outside of Denver. With the exception of Thursday night, which was still very packed, the band played to sold-out crowds, 27,000 people turning out to celebrate the Jesters of Jam and the shared experience once again. Pre-show every night, the parking lots were filled multiple hours before doors with license plates and accents from across the country, freewheeling day trippers enjoying the fruits of the moment, taking in each other, the vendors of Shakedown Street, and whatever else Serendipity herself was willing to bestow. With the exception of cool temperatures and storm delays on Sunday, the beginning of the holiday weekend was filled with the hot, dusty, and sunny conditions everyone has come to expect none of which deterred anyone from getting to the parking lot scene early and the spontaneous celebration of good times that fires up well before any band member takes the stage. After a spirited effort on Thursday, the weekend crowd was out in full force and ready to cast off the doldrums of the work week, showing up in their dancing shoes, sequins, and sparkly adornment as far as the eye could see.

With doors opening right on time and the band set to take the stage at eight o’clock, the house was full and ready to welcome the beloved brotherhood of musical benevolence. When the quartet finally walked on a little before the advertised time, the crowd roared as Trey, Page, Mike, and Jon smiled and took a moment, basking in the familiar fanscape set out before them.

Wasting no time, the four got right to the business, starting the first set with a well-played thirteen-minute “Wolfman’s Brother”.  This upbeat crowd favorite had everyone singing along and at about four minutes, the first groove fest ensued with some light funk and solid playing by all. Under a rainbow of color and sound, the jam eventually built to a rollicking crescendo that had Trey climbing and Page leaving his seat to pound on the keys. Although this one stayed well within the lines, the welcome got everyone in the mood.

Keeping the spirit playful, “Sparkle” had many following the instructions of laughing and the subsequent falling apart as the speed sped faster and faster. Although many consider this a throwaway song, this one has been more of a rarity recently and this version was the second of the year, making it, at least for these ears, more fun than times past.

“Bathtub Gin” started at a faster tempo than usual and got to the lyrics sooner than most versions, robbing Page of his time to shine. When the tune arrived at the first musical passageway, the band slowed it to its normal cadence and eased into the tub in a more familiar way. As Jon shuffled the snare and Mike reset the grounding pulse, Page’s void at the start was filled with the climatic build of the ending, frilling, and grilling the piano as Trey supported. Coming in right over the eleven-minute mark, this one was still fun even if everyone wished we could have soaked and drank a bit longer.

Without a breath, “Back On The Train” kept everyone chugging along. Jon’s machine-like repeating line fueled the engine through the lyrics and eventually diversified with the midsection. Trey and Page demonstrated some great interplay, Mike keeping it solid, and happy to tend the structurally secure framework. The final return had Trey and Page belting out ‘It took me a long time to get back on the train’, prompting a sizeable nod from the crowd at the final notes, indicating that they too were happy to be back on the joyful conveyance.

Where night one had been vocally driven by Trey, “Halfway To The Moon” was audibly embraced with Page’s first line. As the supermoon had occurred on Wednesday and everyone had watched the lunar orb climb amid Thursday’s performance, it was a bit surprising that the venue didn’t get this one on night one. As everything had been high paced up to this point, this stroll under the clouds and the rising moon was nice and the more relaxed flow brought out some tasty fills from Trey between the lines of the stanzas. Page’s piano was crystal clear and illustrated his proficiency without doubt, unmuddled and out front. The changes were spot on and the closing minutes contained some soulful call and response between the guitar and piano. Mike worked the entirety of his new bass, managing high fills intermittent to the low end of the bones of the piece.

“Bouncing Around The Room” kept the mood light and although many wished this one would get the treatment to break up the safe set so far, it ended at its usual point. The “Stash” that followed clocked in at twelve minutes and continued the parade of old-school tunes. Slipping between the high hat and the bank of toms, Jon held this one together as the rest of the gang filled in the spaces between. Delivering for multiple minutes with softness, the strings, and keys played opposite to each other, giving the listeners the opp to hear each voice pronounced as it bellowed out over the stadium. The final minutes swelled, and the end got a nice little peak that brought the excitement out of everyone listening.

“Esther” was simply beautiful and patient. The band worked together as one and made the changes well. Coming in at nine minutes, this one played to perfection, spawned many a smile at such a great take on another from the early canon. With “Esther”’s final peak note, Jon’s hi-hat rattle resembled “Maze” but with a moment more and some chunking by Trey, it quickly became clear that “David Bowie” was in town. For being as highly compositional as this bad boy is, there were minor misses but for the most part, it checked all the boxes and sounded cohesive and cerebral. In the end, at just over nine minutes, the build ruptured into the expected explosion of energy, sending everyone off to refreshment and conversation with a smile and a power-up.

For set two, the band opened with a twenty-three-minute version of “Sand” that had everyone vibrating and vying for greatness. Mike’s Serek was warm, fuzzy, and muted, giving his presence more melt than punch throughout the exploration of the first choice. Early on, the musical taffy maker he is, Trey pulled long notes while Page rotated in his pit, stirring the pot, adding left-handed synth to rightly driven acoustic sound, Jon sprinkling in his own ingredients incessantly and tastefully. At about the fifteen-minute mark, Trey went from the kitchen to Kosmic and started in with some alien speak, wrapping his tonal words in otherworldly code and syntax. Page chirped along on the organ, while the rhythm section upped the groove, pushing the other two ahead for more. The final minutes morphed into the weird and everyone was the better for it. The last few measures referenced the head and served more for closure than a rousing goodbye to the creation.

Keeping the party going, “No Men In No Man’s Land” jumped and took everyone with it, the house happy to fall into the void, laughing and singing all the way. The audience showed their attentiveness to the lyrics, flooding the air and the band with their dues when Trey hit the You’re happy that we’re here lyric, triggering a smile from the frontman that everyone could hear in his voice. With the words out of the way, Page set the scene with the Klav and synth, Trey wrapping his delivery in warm emotion, while Mike droned out the backside. This soundscape carried across the plain for several minutes, Jon rolling it out the entire time. With close to nine minutes of free fall, the final five took a more directed approach, building and building towards a climactic finish.

Although there was no distinct exclamation mark for “NMINML”, 27,000 people certainly achieved lift off and when the band moved into “Llama”, the good times just kept on rolling. Page’s Hammond and Leslie love was certainly shared by all, and Trey’s scorching solo had everyone cheering when the frenetic faction came to a stop for their first pause of the set. Three songs and forty-plus minutes in, it was easy to see that we were all getting our money’s worth.

The mid-set breather came in a personal favorite “Mountains in the Mist”. Trey’s quivering vocals accompanied by Page’s delicate voice surrounded by the lightness of the melody epitomize the Phish ballad dynamic. The open middle presented the textures of the band distinctly, specifically Mike and his contribution to lining the spaces between with heartfelt runs.

As the final notes dwindled, from the echoing applause rose another errand of promise with “Scents and Subtle Sounds”. Another quintessential Phish piece that embodies the Piscean draw that has kept so many coming back for more, decade after decade. Coming in at twelve minutes, this one was played to near perfection, the instrumental section containing some great improvisation and multiple peaks, all of which were pulled off with precision and purpose.

Following a soft fizzle, the closing spot to the set came in the form of The Rolling Stones’ “Shine A Light”. Not only was it one of only two covers of the weekend, but also had not been performed for fifty-three shows since July of 2022. For the astute listener, this one inspired much excitement and, with its inspirational message, made for a great closer, prompting smiles, hugs, and a whole lot of worth for strangers and lovers alike.

Obviously feeling it as well, the band returned wearing smiles and gave everyone a one-two punch of the good stuff to get all the travelers home. Without a word, Trey hits those all too familiar chords duh duh, duh duh as the audience chants “Wilson”, inciting a personal internal riot for those ready to rock. Although a bit bumpy in the middle, the band got the point across and finished big. Not yet ready to part ways with the celebration of life, “Split Open and Melt” got the second encore slot. This would be only the fourth time that this song has held the encore position and the last time was in 1991. Couple the placement rarity with the nearly seventeen-minute version that got doled out and it was easy to hear that there was magic in the air. Forgive me if I do not attempt to write about the illuminating dark Phish spectacle, but it would just be ruined with words. Instead, find a copy and take the ride, your ear and brain will thank you for it.

At the end of night two, those who came to throw down did and no one left early. Even with an average first set that was certainly well played, the second set’s attitude made up for any shortcoming, making the whole night receive the stamp of approval from both the new and old school fans. The parking lot scene shone with the color and character that made the community itself as inviting as the experience of the band. As always, the venue staff were top-notch and greeted everyone with a smile and a willingness to help. All these consistent characters combined are the reason Phish returns year after year and even now, with another one entered into the record books, many are already making plans to make the pilgrimage again, because one thing is for sure, great things happen at Dick’s.

Check out more photos from the show.

Closing out the month of July, the production triumph that is Planet Bluegrass made the magic happen once again with the legendary three-day event RockyGrass. Taking place in the tiny town full of talent Lyons, Colorado, and celebrating its 51st birthday, Festivarians were treated yet again to an event that was run with precision and care on the beautiful grounds of Planet Bluegrass’ homebase, resulting in an experience that generated a whole slew of new memories and music for the five thousand faithful lucky enough to get passes to this sold-out weekend.

Arriving with an hour to spare before the daily opening ceremonies, warm hearts, and shining faces lined the main drive, waiting to get their best seat in the field for the all-day experience. Like many the modern-day event, RockyGrass honors the early birds with a numbered early entry system, distributing physical digits to reward those willing to put in the effort of being early, prompting many in the line to trade for a better lot or give away their position as friends and teammates end up with more fortuitous ranks. Walking the deserted grounds only moments from the start of yet another glorious day of music, scattered employees and guests could be seen putting on the final touches, doing yoga in the nearly vacant landscape, or taking in the last moments of the nearly silent morning before it all got going, the calm before the welcomed storm if you will.

Following a calm, courteous, and organized soft opening for ADA, the time finally arrived for the main gates to open wide, welcoming the stampede right at the mark of ten, and, as the droves ran for the front with tarps in hand, The William Tell Overture playing over the PA, the green field of empty grass, under blue skies and bright sun, quickly filled with the sights and sounds of yet another day of good living. The crowd ranging in every age seemed ready for more and no one demonstrated any signs of fatigue here on day three, the crowd psyched once again to take in this final day of the weekend.

For the cap of the weekend trifecta, as with any day at this special place, Sunday’s lineup was stacked with incredible talent from both the new and old schools. With seventy-five-minute sets give or take interspersed with thirty-minute buffers, the Main Stage roster included a curated all-star set titled The Solar Sisters, followed by the remainder of the day with The Stillhouse Junkies, Jeremy Garrett and River Wild, Fireside Collective, AJ Lee and Blue Summitt, Peter Rowan’s Bluegrass Band, and finally Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway to close out the night.

With the clock hitting half past the hour, the talented multi-instrumentalist and voice of Planet Bluegrass, Annie Sirotniak, sidled up to the microphone with a smile and a whole heart to welcome everyone:

Well, good morning RockyGrass, and hello Festivarians! It is time to gather along the flowing waters of the St. Vrain this beautiful Sunday morning to rejoice together in the RockyGrass gospel. We have a very special collaboration this morning to lift our hearts. Let’s start the day with The Solar Sisters, which are KC Groves on mandolin, Kyra Holt on banjo, Bevin Foley on fiddle, bassist Erin Youngberg, and Amy Scher on guitar. They are going to be joined by sisters Meg and Maddie Cody and maybe just one or two or ten more of their family of musical friends. Please welcome The Solar Sisters featuring the Cody Sisters.

The special collaborative set got started with the appropriate cover of Johnny Cash’s “Sunday Morning Coming Down”. Led by ‘opera singer turned bluegrass junkie at her first bluegrass festival’ Megan Morino, this one welcomed the steady flow of attendees trickling in, many happily displaying some of the symptoms and remedies mentioned in the song.

With The Sisterhood recognizing the addition of guitar talent Tyler Grant, the group moved into the upbeat gospel traditional “Sun’s Gonna Shine in My Backdoor Someday”. Hazel Dickens’ “Won’t You Come and Sing For Me?” was up next and came on strong and soulful. Released by Hazel Dickens and Alice Gerrard in the 1960s, a duo often noted as breaking the glass ceiling of the male-dominated genre, this tune rang genuine and inspired being performed by these powerful ladies.

Taking a moment, KC Groves paused to introduce some of her peers, namely Bevin Foley of Trout Steak Revival and guitarist Amy Scher before pivoting and bringing some bluegrass brothers to the sisterly stage. Groves first welcomed Martin Gillmore on guitar and described him as being akin to ‘the man baby of James Taylor and Tim O’Brien’, a comment that had Gillmore receiving resounding applause. Adding more talent to the already full stage, mandolinist Jason Norris stepped up and reported that this beautiful morning was ‘the first time in thirteen years he had been on the RockyGrass stage’. Pulling out another traditional and keeping with the Sunday theme, “Gospel Plow” was next, led by Gillmore, and tilled the fields of the festival grounds, making ready the earth of Planet Bluegrass to receive the seeds of love throughout the day.

Deepening the talent pool, Groves welcomed to the stage Boulder-based mandolinist Steve Remmert to front the ever-expanding family with the Lambert, Ingram, and Randall original “Amazing Grace (West Texas)” of the 2021 collaborative release The Marfa Tapes. The vocal harmonies were as sweet and cool as the dewy morning air of the moment and sounded pitch-perfect, no easy feat considering the number of people on stage.

Introducing the low end of The Solar Sisters, bassist Erin Youngberg sang “It’s A Beautiful Life” from Jerry Douglas’ album Slide Rule, and not only did she nail the lyrics and playing but did it having just run a 60K race the day before. Of note, she did have a stool at standby if the race in the rearview and the musical marathon taking place became too much.

Keeping the revolving door of the feminine force spinning, The Cody Sisters Megan and Maddie brought their guitar and banjo and shared Gillian Welch’s “Red Dirt Halo”. Reducing to a trio, The Cody Sisters with ‘Will (Pavilonis) on the bass’, added some speed to the set with some great musical caffeine, flatpicking on Gordon Lightfoot’s “Cold on the Shoulder”.

Filling the stage once again, the hour of girl power continued and added proclaimed banjo-lego master Abigail Washburn and progeny Juno to join the mix and were followed by Washburn’s Uncle Earl compatriot Kristen Andreassen.  Emmylou Harris’ “Bright Morning Stars” called to the angels, acapella style, and gave a great opportunity for onlookers to center and reflect on the power of the pipes as a multitude of voices belted this out as one.

Keeping the Sunday theme alive and well, Andreassen led the ever-expanding group on the next traditional tune “I’m Gonna Wear That Starry Crown Over There”. “The River Jordan” followed and was led by Devin Foley, flowing peaceably like the child-filled waters of the St. Vrain bordering the grounds, many parents taking in the innocence at the river’s edge.

Closing out the set with a high note, the assembly brought out vocal powerhouse Bonnie Sims to the stage to run through the Springcreek song “High Up In The Mountains”, this one left everyone, everywhere charged and prepped for a great day of music.

Following a quick stage change out, Sirotniak returned to stage left to introduce the next group:

Winners of the IBMA 2021 Momentum Band of the Year, this Durango, Colorado-grown trio is now on the road full-time and their chemistry together elevates every performance. Ranging from Texas swing to classical and blues, they are here today to bring their undeniable groovy aesthetic nuanced songwriting craft, and stop-you-in-your-tracks harmonies. Consider us junkies, and give them a great big RockyGrass welcome: The Stillhouse Junkies.

Opening with “No Ambition”, the words of Sirotniak never rang truer. From great harmonies and tight musicianship, this one proved to be the first track of this fine Sunday morning that would put some jam in the middle of the breakfast biscuits. The sweet reserves of the middle contained varied textures, including Bolero-colored measures and a slow build that ended with everyone lining up for another hit. Fading into a bass solo from Cody Tinnin on the upright, the group moved as a unit into another of their originals “On The House”. Getting the hips off the field swinging, this got more than a few up from their seats to shake off the recovery rust of the previous day and welcome the new with an open heart and a groove in their feet. This one was filled with great chopping and line work from fiddle siren Alissa Wolf. In the end, the trio returned to “No Ambition” and got a noticeable round of applause with the coda.

Taking to the mic, guitarist Fred Kosak shared his appreciation:

Holy Moley! I cannot imagine a more beautiful sight for us to get to stand in front of so thank you so much for making this festival the most magical experience anywhere on planet Earth!

Chiming in agreement, the crowd let the band know their efforts were appreciated. As the rousing recognition faded, “River of Lost Souls”, a tale of the Animas River that runs through Durango, kept the turbulent tuneful waters turning. Coming off their 2022 release Small Towns, this track contained some serious bow work by Wolf as Tinnin and Kosak provided the punchy backdrop. Another great creation, this one shifted from fast friction to light and alluring, pulling the listeners in intently.

Keeping the segues coming and coloring the air with more images of their part of the Centennial State, the trio shifted into the upbeat with the boot-scootin’ “Saturday Night”. Referencing the town of Mancos in the first stanza, this invitation to go out and paint the town red finished with a bang and even had the band changing the final city reference to Lyons.

Although heralding from Durango, the band recognized that this stop at RockyGrass was their first return home in two months and that they could not think of a better welcome home gift than playing to great people in a beautiful place supported by the care and diligence of the incredible people at Planet Bluegrass. From the response they got to these feelings, it was true, once again, that they were not alone in their assessment. Keeping things moving and showing that this band is always working on something, Kosak introduced the next selection as a new unreleased piece penned in January. “Hold On To It”, with its uplifting hook, was quality through and through. Inspired and warm, this one proved audibly that the band is loving what they are doing, holding onto their dream in the making.

Intent on packing in as much as they could, “Haskell Town” picked up the pace again and the Kosak inferno tore through the canyon. Flatpicking with fury, the centerpiece had everyone focused stageward, listening to the barrage of notes. Tinnin’s vocal delivery was quality continued, delivering this tale of Kansas with heart and soul.

As Planet Bluegrass and the genre, itself are built firmly on the foundation of community, it certainly seemed fitting to spotlight one of the people instrumental, pun intended, in making the notes possible. In preparation for the next choice and the special acoustic tool about to be employed, Kosak took a moment:

Bobby Wintringham is front and center right here folks. Back in 2019, we all went to a show at Delores River Brewing and Bobby was there with this octave mandolin that he had just built and let me take it for a spin. I played it and said, ‘the next time you are thinking of building one, please let me know because this is amazing’. Fast forward another year or so and I have this beautiful instrument in my hands. This is a Colorado-made octave mandolin so I would like to thank Bobby for that and if you haven’t met Bobby, he is one of the best instrument builders in the world.

Following the recognition, Wolf stepped to the mic and steered her original “El Camino”, describing it as ‘a pandemic tune for the lovers of a weird car’. Co-written with fiddler Becky Buller out of Nashville and written for no particular reason other than affinity, this tale of automotive love starting in Vermont and ending in abandonment high up in Telluride, this one checked all the boxes and was warmly received.

Acknowledging their families and thanking them for their gifts, “Colorado Bound”, also from the Small Towns album, was described by Kosak as being inspired by ‘his grandpa Al road-tripping across the country from northern Minnesota to the West Coast in the 1940’s family Ford. He kept his speed at 35 miles an hour because he figured out, he would save the most money that way’. Just like Al, this one took its time across the musical landscape but caught all the scenic vistas along the road, making the most of the journey.

Keeping the new stuff coming, “Moonrise Over Ridgeway” was told by Tinnin as emanating as ‘a sci-fi thriller integrated with his own Star Trek obsession, containing cowboys, alien abduction, and time travel in Compadre Wilderness in Ridgeway Colorado.' With a strong gallop, this unique piece just kept everyone smiling and grooving.

With the final note, the band pushed into “Roll It Home” off their first release Calamity. This one was written for all the musicians and crew out there who schlep the gear endlessly to do their part in making the music happen. For those paying close attention, Kosak threw in a tease of Phish’s “First Tube”. Appropriately to the tune, Wolf took time to thank the crew and sound engineers for making everyone sound so good at Planet Bluegrass, an observation everyone was happy to agree with.

Another newcomer, “1963” was introduced as a song dedicated to anyone who is aging and cool with it. Packed with a feeling of nostalgia, this one proved to be another quality creation and was enjoyed by many. Hitting up another small town from Colorado, “Five Doors Down in Leadville” spoke of a traveler leaving the high-country town in the fall and setting out for the unknown, the narrator reminding the main character that the porch light will always be lit at ten thousand feet above sea level if ever they want to return to the comfort and sanctuary of home. Once again, the harmonies and musical structure were spot on and from the seventy minutes presented on this fine Sunday, this group got a lot of new customers hooked this weekend.

To close out the set, the band opted for a cover and prefaced ‘that as a Colorado band, we are obligated to play a certain number of Grateful Dead songs per year, and we don’t want to lose our license. We want to remain in good standing with the state.’ Appropriately, this one was deadicated to sound engineer David Glasser sitting down front, whose laundry list of mastering credits includes a multitude of Grateful Dead reissues for more than a decade. Getting to it and starting with a lengthy intro, “Brown Eyed Women'' was the choice, and by the end, Glasser was not the only one wearing a Jerry-sized smile.

As the day continued, the sun climbed high and many took refuge in the shade of the family area and more and more friends and families were seen getting into their tubes and shorts, submerging themselves in the cool river waters of The Saint. Children lined the banks with all sorts of squirting devices, spraying those floating by, giggling, knowing full well that their smiling victims weren’t going to exit their crafts to set them straight, their parents encouraging them with laughter and helping them to pick out their next targets.

Prompted to introduce the next group, Sirotniak returned to keep the day going:

You know him, you love him, and he’s best known for his strong bluesy fiddle work with The Dusters. That, plus his soul-searching singing style gets in your ear and stays there. You are going to hear yet another aspect of his musicality today as he performs right here, right now on our RockyGrass stage. Please give him a great big welcome, Jeremy Garrett and River Wild.

Sporting a clean-shaven face and his usual impish grin, Garrett stepped to the mic and welcomed everyone. Wasting no time he opened the set with a cover of Blue Highway’s “Say, Won’t You Be Mine”. Booming with confidence, this new project River Wild started the set off as a fused unit, sounding as though they had been playing together for a long, long time.

Checking in with the festival in full swing, Garrett spoke:

It's really great to be back here at RockyGrass so thanks for having us. I’ve been doing this festival a long time, since I was a kid I guess, you know, playing in different configurations over the years and it's always a blast. Planet Bluegrass is the best, right?

Next up was a piece inspired by the imagery of how the harrowed waters of The Colorado begin. Whether by rain or snowmelt, the title tracks off of Garrett’s latest endeavor, “(I Am The) River Wild'' cut like the erosive precipitative flow does, barrelling through stone, washing away everything in its path. Garrett’s vocal range certainly sends shivers up the spine, able to hit those high notes that just fuel excitement.

Pulling yet another product from his fertile ground, “Potato Farmer” also from River Wild, contained some incredible mando / fiddle exchanges. This instrumental’s high-stepping strut had the band tilling the ground, planting seeds that eventually bloomed into an incredible bounty of tasty delights and superb musicianship.

Taking time to introduce some of the band, Garrett drew the attention to Shadowgrass guitarist Kyser George, this player getting full recognition of his talent from Garrett himself with an invitation to check out his band currently out on the road in force. Moving on to one of Garrett’s favorite banjo players, Ryan Cavanaugh got warm accolades as well from both Garrett and the audience.

After a tight and speedy version of another one off the new album, “What’s That You’re Doin’?”, Garrett turned his sights on Shawn Layne from Blue Highway. Giving high marks to his incredible wrist action, Garrett prodded the audience to encourage Layne to sing for everyone, Layne’s response: “Steam-Powered Aeroplane” by the one and only John Hartford. Leaving the runway, Garrett got the first turn at the stick, eventually handing it off to Cavanaugh. Layne’s vocals rang with the Hartford drawl and his mando centerpiece kept the crowd dancing to the classic bluegrass piece. Eric Thorin’s bassline held the fuselage together and when the craft finally landed, the passengers celebrated their flight crew, having enjoyed both the altitude and turbulence.

Shifting the vibe entirely and throwing down with some serious blues dynamics, Garrett’s penmanship once again demonstrated he has been hard at work, bringing out another new piece with “In the Blink of an Eye”. Soulful, sinful, and sweet, this demonstrated the many hats this man and these players can put on at a moment’s notice. The end had Garrett bobbing and heaving in a heated battle with his fiddle, finishing the tune with a rapture.

For the new album, “Burnin’ The Slash” is a solo fiddle tune, but what got unpacked next on that stage was not so much solo as it was solos. Prompted by an invitation for Kyser George ‘to pick us a guitar tune’, this one was lit from the first notes. George’s flatpicking blur was frictionless and smoking, Garrett grabbed the embers second, and Cavanaugh met the two, fanning the growing flames. Reaching speeds unimaginable, Layne hit it all, and with sparks flying, fireworks blew across the field, dropping jaws and taunting listeners and dancers to try to keep up with the inferno.

Possibility discombobulated from the last tune and thinking that his set time was quickly approaching its end, Garrett shared with the crowd his appreciation:

This is really just a ton of fun always, every time at RockyGrass. Thanks again for having us out here. We got time for one, maybe two more, we’re keeping an eye on the clock up here and keeping things on time. You all are just awesome, always a great crowd! Thanks for supporting us and having us out here today. Let's do it again sometime, alright?

With the crowd cheering in reciprocation, Garrett gets the notification that he has plenty of time from another staple and familiar face around these parts, Skip The Stage Manager, and retracts, “My time is way off. Nevermind. Nevermind anything I just said”, chuckling as the band kept on pickin’.

“Once You’re Gone” kept the Sunday picnic going and everyone seemed to love listening to more of Garrett’s new album. Short, simple, and to the point, this one added more quality to the set.

“In A Song” followed and was described as one of the first songs Garrett and co-writer Josh Shilling ever put together. The two have brought many a work to both the Stringduster songbook as well as to Shiling’s band Round Mountain. Garrett spoke about their relationship and how rewarding it is to get together with the same writing partner over and over again. This new old tune also finds itself on the latest Garrett creation and the live product was a testament to the power of the singer/songwriter collaborative dynamic and this once indeed defined that truth.

The instrumental “Bird of Prey” flew high over Lyons, rising and soaring on warm thermals and circling towards the bright sun. From the onset, the tune encapsulated the lofty vista, while the midsection concerned itself more with the hunt, becoming a bit frantic and dark, in search of prey attempting to escape its inevitable end. With food in hand, the lot returned to its perch and enjoyed the spoils of its labor.

Also included on River Wild, Garrett’s take on Bill Monroe’s “Kentucky Waltz” was recognized from its start and well received. Garrett belted out the lines, once again showing his range, passion, and connection to the old school. The melody dribbled like summer honey, moving at its own pace, dropping sweet nothings along its path as the musicians filled and flowed, leaving no gap between them.

As there is a myriad of translations of the traditional “Dig a Hole in the Meadow”, in researching the lyrics, the amalgam that Garrett produced contained a mix of multiple interpretations, including Flatt and Scruggs, Woody Guthrie, and John Hartford to name a few. The instrumental jam section was over the top and had plenty of room for everyone to take a moment to undertake this labor of love. Garrett’s vocals were haunting over the looming structure of the tune and his guttural delivery had many turning away from their conversations and paying attention stageside.

Pulling another from the home team, co-written with longtime Colorado collaborator Benny ‘Burle’ Galloway, “Oh Little Darlin’” was described by Garrett as one of the pieces that he and Burle put together during one of their early writing sessions. Capturing that old-time mountain sound, this one rang with Burle’s voice and the echo of the Rockies.

Introduced as a banjo tune to close it out, the instrumental unknown to these ears was so much more than just that. Feeling more like a dizzying acoustic merry-go-round that spun the Planet faster and faster, pulling everybody from their seat and tarp with centrifugal fusion force, whatever this choice was, it left the crowd with something to talk about, specifically the desire to take the ride again on the class five waters of Garrett and River Wild.

Pausing once again for the stage change out, more and more folks trickled in, and with only three bands in, the morning population had filled quite a bit of the listening grounds, making it more difficult to find a spot for the larger groups who had opted to sleep in. Whether early or late, the sun was climbing, and everyone was starting to feel the heat of the high noon sun.

Up next was the progressive bluegrass outfit Fireside Collective and this five-piece wonder machine out of North Carolina kept the wheels spinning from the very first note. The band hit the stage pedal to the floor with the anything-but-traditional J.P. Nestor original “Train on the Island”. Cohesive and tight, the band grabbed the attention of everyone right from the start. Finishing the lyrical content, the band went full jam mode, employing pedals and effects while mandolinist Jesse Laquinto addressed the audience, welcoming everyone in and advising all about their intent for fun. Without a breath or pause, the eight-minute jam of the opener turned in mid-air to the band’s high-energy “Let It Ride”. With a great solo from bassist Carson White, the one-two punch of an introduction to the band had the immediate fans of The Collective seriously tuning in.

Pulling one from their new album Across The Divide, “Blue Is My Condition”, written by dobro devil Tommy Maher, this one kept the celebration hot. From great lyrics and even better instrumental execution, many were dancing feverishly. Teasing some U2 in the HUGE ending apex, these gentlemen kept their reputation intact by delivering once again what they are widely known for: the unexpected. The short, sweet, and peppy “Circles” added to the warmth of the afternoon and the soft embrace of Laquinto’s mando produced many a smile across the field of green.

As expected, Little Feat’s “Willin’” had the crowd singing along. Sounding off with great harmonies, the band showed that their vocal chops matched their musical ones. Played at a faster pace than the original, the rework reflected their love for making their endeavors all their own, and guitarist’s Joe Cicero lead would have made Lowell George proud.

Another new one penned by Laquinto, “When You Fall” carried the expected inspirational message and the exploration had the author reaching for the skies, taking an extended solo and bouncing off each of his brothers.

Although heralding from the South, the group showed that the ties of the bluegrass community know no bounds and brought up Travis Book from The Infamous Stringdusters for a run on The ‘Dusters’ “Rise Sun”. Although Book would be welcome on any bluegrass stage, the band’s connection to him runs deep, not only through the shared regional roots but also as a co-conspirator in producing the band’s third album Elements released in 2020. Taking the lead vocal position, the band supported the lineman with enthusiastic instrumentation and backup harmonies that showed their appreciation even further for this man’s contribution to their journey.

Introduced as being ‘played in the key of love’, the group gave up another one from Across The Divide with “I’m Givin’ In”. Maher drove this one vocally, steering the vehicle with his dobro slide action. The group moved in unity and showed off their chops individually in the slow build, hitting the mark, and making everyone live the key they were playing in. With smiles and dancing abounding, The Collective took the amorous dynamic higher, shifting into everyone’s favorite bluegrass tune, Paul Simon’s “You Can Call Me Al”. Singing along, the audience loved the left turn. Another deep dip in the low end from Carson White followed by a banjo-led ascent to the end had everyone shaking their bones and calling out when Laquinto kept the good time rolling by moving right into another Simon favorite “Diamonds on the Soul of Her Shoes”. With applause to match the obvious love across Planet Bluegrass, Maher took a moment to recognize Simon and Graceland as ‘one of the greatest albums of all time’ and filled the crowd in on the fact that the preceding medley of goodness was a first for the band, a special Collective collection prepared especially for their stage time at RockyGrass to honor the love they always get at this annual event.

Closing the set, the band chose to do a Townes Van Zandt tune about their favorite state, reeling off “Colorado Girl”. With a majority of their tunes performed with fire, the brotherhood had plenty left in the tank as the finishing piece burned just as brightly as any other one in their set.

The award-winning and talented AJ Lee and Blue Summit were up next. Unfortunately, or fortunately, however, one might look at it, I was busy with my mandolin-playing son having a moment with Sam Bush over in the General Store where the King of Telluride was signing autographs, shaking hands, and exchanging with everyone taking the time to stop by for some face time.

By the time I got back to the action, AJ Lee and Blue Summit were in the thick of it, tearing out a great rendition of “Still Love You Still”. With her distinct sensual vocal character, AJ poured out the words to the open ears already in love with her voice, while guitarist Scotty Gates ripped it up on all six strings that eventually got handed over to Sullivan “Sully” Tuttle for some flat-picking magic.

Following that bit of quality pickin’, Gates kept the energy high by leading the Sunday gathering through a great rendition of Alex Leach’s lonesome tune “Mountain Heartache”. Although there is no banjo on the Blue Summitt, the instrumentation was as authentic as any bluegrass outfit out there and the dual guitar dynamic of Gates and Tuttle fueled itself into many a great moment. Jan Purat’s fiddle mastery certainly took no backseat on this one, hitting all the right notes and the man behind the bow visibly enjoying it all.

After receiving a round of warm accolades from the audience, Lee stepped up and announced that it was the band’s first time on the RockyGrass stage, a fact that was hard to believe based on the tight and tasty musicianship that had been demonstrated only a few tunes in. Adding to the story, Lee also welcomed everyone to celebrate Gates’ birthday alongside the band. With a loud swell of well-wishing, Lee turned the attention back to the music and served up the new tune “Hillside” from their yet-to-be-released upcoming album.

Starting off low and hollow, Lee’s lone words echoed out of the canyon walls, the rest of the strings building quietly to meet the chorus. Lee got some solo time to caress the ear and like her intro, the tune closed with her notes fading off into the air. Keeping it in the same vein, the melancholy “When You Change Your Mind” from the band’s 2021 release I’ll Come Back was approved by the fans accordingly and provided the opportunity to take in the complexity and finish of the band.

Introducing Sully Tuttle, the mild-mannered gent of few words stepped to the microphone with a smile and shifted the setting from bluegrass to swing with a rapid-fire cover of Bob Wills’ “Who Walks In When I Walk Out?”. Although all the solos cooked with this one, Purat’s fiddle just sizzled. With an energetic rift, “Faithful” followed the Bob Wills tune perfectly and kept many dancing and inspired others to do so.

Introduced as ‘a very famous country number’, Gates sang a slowed down, countrified version of The Monkees’ “I’m A Believer”. Although one would think this a comical bit and this one certainly got a bit of laughter at the introduction, the tune done as a country ballad actually came off perfectly, and the leading lines were refined, interesting, and certainly nothing to laugh about.

With hints of Joni, “To Mine” off their first album Like I Used To started from a vulnerable space, but when it got to the improvisation, it was a whole different beast completely. The fiddle-led race and key changes had everyone turning at all the right moments, eventually settling back into the lyrics, AJ painting the air with her range.

Celebrating their illustrious leader and reiterating this being her first RockyGrass performance, AJ Lee’s bandmates made sure to provide Ms. Lee her moment in the sun by asking everyone to put their hands together for the songbird and skilled picker that she is. Honored and overwhelmed with the fanfare, she stood there thanking everyone with her heart wide open.

Following the recognition, Lee replied simply, “So happy to be here. Sometimes you have to take a pause and appreciate the little things you have in life”, a statement everyone eagerly agreed with. Inspired by this truth, Lee introduced the next perspective born of the adage, titled “Lemons and Tangerines”. Hitting with an acoustic Motown feel, Lee gave off tenderness and grit all at the same time and there was certainly nothing sour about this choice, leaving the lucky full of the appreciation regarded at the introduction.

Getting back to Bluegrass, the next Blue Summit selection was a cover of Cadillac Sky’s “I Wish I Could Say That I Was Drinkin’”. This expeditious undertaking was filled with so many lightning-speed solos that before everyone knew it, it was over and the only things left were well-earned sweat and an increased heart rate alongside the smiles that increased in number with every song of the set, begging the question again ‘how come it took so long to get this band to the RockyGrass stage?’

Providing more info on the recent studio endeavor of the band, Lee indicated that even though she has historically done most of the writing for the band, Gates, Purat, and Tuttle were all mentioned as being contributors on the next release, set to come out in the early months of 2024. A father/son Tuttle creation, “Seaside Town” showed that Sully’s penmanship and voice proved to be as talented as his pickin’, and as his father looked up from the first few rows, one could see how endearing the moment was for both of these men. The music of this one moved much like the populace of its setting: at its own pace, with no hurry to be anywhere but to be in the moments that change so very little and are filled with the familiar, innocent, and genuine.

Although Scott Gates’ birthday celebration had been mentioned a few times up to this point, Lee finally took the time to put music to the message and prompted the band and the audience to join in. Starting off with a slow waltz intro, Lee reached the end of the first stanza and counted off a significantly more upbeat tempo, the band exploding into an incredibly fast finish to the yeartide tune, leaving Gates and the band laughing and enjoying the celebratory occasion.

Hijinks and embarrassment of Mr. Gates aside, Lee introduced another new unpublished design, the Gates written and led “Bakersfield Clay”. Regarded by Lee at the moment as her ‘favorite song in the set’, this leisurely spiritual moved deliberately, both physically and emotionally, and its sweet delivery added even more anticipation to the prospect of a new Blue Summit to climb in the near future. Gates crooning quivered and quaked and struck at the heart as that intent on the passage swayed by the breeze-bathed trees that bordered the periphery. Finishing with some impressive yodeling, the close found the crowd seconding Lee’s endorsement of the new one.

Written when she was 15 years old as a ‘not-your-ordinary gospel number’, Lee’s “Put Your Head Down” was yet another testament that this vocalist, instrumentalist, and writer has been blessed with some serious talent for an exceptionally long time. Belting it with power and ferocity, this one might just get someone thrown out of some churches if it was played on a Sunday, coming off more like Saturday night than the sabbath.

Introduced as a sing-along, Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon” had individuals becoming couples, spinning each other, barefoot and dusty, as time in the meadow slowed, losing many to the moment. Dreamy and touching, Tuttle danced on the harmonics of the fretboard and eventually added a steel drum effect to his guitar, Gates following with his own synth dynamic, making the end interesting and unexpected.

With a final band headcount, the group sealed the deal with a cover of Gillian Welch’s “Down Along The Dixie Line” and closed it all out with a bang. AJ Lee and Blue Summit showed everything they had over the seventy-five minutes before them and walking away, many were happy to say that they would be back to catch the view from atop their mountain.

For eighty-one years, the world has been blessed with the presence of Peter Rowan, and for much of that time, this wellspring of perspective has contributed significantly to the creative world in chord and phrase and considering the gravity of this, how could someone introduce such a person, with so much history and connection in a succinct manner? Well, leave it to Sirotniak to do her best:

It is such an honor to welcome this man and his band to our RockyGrass stage. He wails, he yodels, he howls, and always delivers. He joined The Bluegrass Boys in 1963 and created a unique musical bond that birthed ‘The Walls of Time’, an enduring bluegrass classic. His hallmark is a Keating delivery fused with a groovy bluesyness. Now in his eighth decade, he rides the winds of Tex-Mex, Reggae, and Folk, while still staying true to his singer/songwriter roots. Where would the music be without Midnight Moonlight, Thirsty in the Rain, and Free Mexican Airforce? We are thrilled to have Panama Red himself back here at the 51st annual RockyGrass. Will you please help me make him welcome, Peter Rowan!

Without a word, the quintet jumped right into the appropriate nod to The Father of Bluegrass himself Bill Monroe by tearing through the instrumental “Tallahassee”. Although the intro was a little bumpy, the group pulled it together, and by the end, the acoustic machine was firing on all cylinders.

Getting a collaborative welcome from the crowd, Rowan took a moment to introduce renowned flat picker, David Grier, “We sprung him out of Nashville for a bit”, creating a good bit of laughter and applause. Of note, Grier’s father, Lamar, like Rowan, served a stint in the 1960s with Monroe as one of The Bluegrass Boys.

Next up was a great rendition of Bob Dylan’s “Girl From The North Country”. A little bit country and a whole lot of Appalachia, Rowan’s vocals sounded as tried and true as ever. Fiddle player Julian Pinelli’s sorrowful solo expanded nicely over Max Wareham’s banjo pops.

Sticking with the Dylan songbook, “I Dreamed I Saw St Augustine” was up next. Chris Henry’s gentle mando fanning filled the body of the cover and the soul of the listeners simultaneously. Grier got a chance to share his skill and Rowan followed with just a taste, tantalizing the audience to more.

Pulling from his ongoing, unending catalog of creation, he optioned from his 2022 album Calling You From My Mountain with “A Winning Hand”. This one rang with that warmth that so many of Rowan’s tunes resonate with and define at least a portion of his multifaceted talent.

As the rest of the band tuned, Rowan took a moment to recognize the leading man on the next selection, and accepting the distinction and decoration, Julian Pinelli nodded to the crowd with a smile. Tex Logan’s “Come Along Jody” got started with Pinelli’s bow and string, but there was certainly enough room for Henry to pick up the pace with some great mando fuel. The leads just kept on coming, Wareham changing it up by clawing in the offbeat, Grier following and putting it on thick, fast, and furious. Rowan’s picking was solid and steady before handing the center back to Pinelli who closed it out. Rowan added following the final note, “Tex wrote that number about trying to round up his daughter at a bluegrass festival”, prompting Rowan to laugh along with the audience at the imagery, “Come along, little Jody”, he said.

Another new one by Rowan, “From My Mountain” had the legend pull new school talents Molly Tuttle and Lindsey Lou to join in. With Tuttle adding her skill on guitar as well as vocals and Lou completing the trinity of tone, the trio backed by The Bluegrass Band, intertwined so sweetly and soundly, that one could have listened to that blessing all day. Of note, Tuttle contributed on both vocals and banjo on the studio version of this one. Obviously feeling it from their side of the stage too, the whole group smiled in the wash of the finish, and the feminine force stuck with the astute gentlemen for another.

As Rowan loves the storytelling of song, anyone who knows him knows that he shares the same joy in sharing the history of the creations he puts to work. Before getting to the next choice, he quipped, “We would like to sing an old number that I had the great honor of writing with Bill Monroe, the Father of Bluegrass. We went on a long journey in a bus called ‘The Bluegrass Breakdown’ that finally lived up to its name. We stopped at the edge of a little canyon called Horse Caves, Kentucky, and Bill stepped out of the bus and said, ‘Listen good to this Pete and don’t you ever forget it’ and I said, ‘Listen good to THIS and don’t you ever forget it’, so we wrote this one together called the “Walls of Time”.

With its inviting descending progression, this definitive always pulls everyone in quickly. Tuttle, Rowan, and Lou’s reading kept opening the hearts of everyone listening. Pinelli got the first run, sliding it out supple and slow. The second stanza had Henry adding some great texture and as the words drifted on the afternoon breeze, Rowan filled the air with golden certainty and confidence that spurred goosebumps throughout the patronage. Henry jumped back in after the third verse and picked up the pace, throwing some good ol’ shred grass over the top. Tuttle got a turn at the wheel and for anyone watching her lead, all we could say is that woman is talent incarnate.

Beaming like the sun, Rowan threw out a big thanks to Molly and Lindsay Lou, the crowd recognizing and celebrating the added skill, the two powerhouses’ youthful smiles said it all as the crowd stood clapping and whistling.

Keeping things moving, Rowan handed over the program to the man to his right, “Alright Chris Henry, take it away buddy. Give us that good ol’ gospel. We got some songs we want you to sing along with. Are you ready to sing? It’s Sunday after all!”, the congregation shouting their proclamation of agreement.

Stepping to the pulpit, Brother Henry spoke, “Whether you believe in the almighty Rubik’s Cube or the Pleadian Elven Goddess or the Seven Buddhas or the Ten Buddhas or even good ol’ Jesus Christ himself, we want you to go ahead and sing along with us if you want to. It's going to switch up a little bit. You’re going to know ‘em because we all love ‘em, we can all do it together here harmoniously. So, if you’ve been looking for the chance to sing, here we go. How about ‘Will The Circle Be Unbroken’?”

Touched by the spirit, the believers gave themselves over to the soul of the traditional tune and joined in accordingly, the band often going silent so as to let those bearing witness be heard. Although served up as “Will the Circle Be Unbroken?”, Henry worked in portions of “I Saw The Light” and “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot”, making it a true gospel medley that even got an acapella finish. At the end, Henry enthusiastically added, “That’s good singing, neighbors! We appreciate that up here today!”

The instrumental “The World is Waiting For The Sunrise” came down the pike next and showed that regardless of age, all of these gentlemen carry the chops. Although Eric Thorin’s basslines could be felt throughout the set, his solo in this one got strong applause from the crowd, sending a smile across the face of this gentle giant. Max Wareham’s banjo skills were acknowledged by the bandleader at the close, bringing a similar look of joy to his face.

As Rowan has played with everyone, he took a moment to recognize someone sharing the stage in Lyons who has orbited his light more than a few times over the years:

Peter: Having David Grier up here is such a great pleasure.

David: Well, It's good to be here, Pete.

Peter: Well David, how you feeling about things?

David: Well, I’m feeling pretty good. This is my favorite festival, and it is good to be back here and y’all look like you’re having just as much fun as I am and that’s a great thing.

Peter: That is a great thing, David. Yes sir!

Anyone familiar with Rowan’s work knows that his talent for metaphor is a voice he loves to write in and certainly one well-known song epitomizing this skill is his 1982 release “Thirsty In The Rain”. Depicting the struggle of humanity to make existential ends meet when everything we need is already before us, this one is a thinker as well as a player. The melody is emotional and the dialect with which Rowan sings in just makes it all the better. Grier’s solo was dynamic and opened the door, prompting Wareham to gladly step through the entrance, rolling sweetly over the pasture, Henry packing it in between the two.

A little winded with delight, Rowan prefaced the next one with some backstory:

Whew! Thank you! Wow! Alright! David Grier to kick this one off here. This is a tune… When we got together in Stinson Beach, California in 1970, I sang this song for Jerry Garcia, and he liked it and he recorded it. I hope you enjoy it, our version of it here, ‘Mississippi Moon’.

First recorded by Seatrain in 1971, this Rowan original passes like a lazy river, its instrumentation meandering under the luminosity of the lunar lady. Pinelli’s fiddle moaned with the yearning of distant love, Henry’s pickin’ tender, Grier poured the wine, and Rowan shone like the sunset. Rowan showed that he can add yodeling to almost any tune and make it sound perfect.

Taking a final pause to thank the audience, Rowan began the set closer by crooning “Midnight Moonlight” acapella, the rest of his band joining in after the first few lines. The audience was quick to jump in on the singalong on this familiar beloved, Rowan happy to step away from the mic to let the assembly take over. Grier’s solo, swinging and on point, made for good times for all participating. Henry’s energy was just as high for the closer as it was for any other part of the set, his fire never waning, his piercing eyes and enthusiastic smile reflecting what was going on inside at any point in time. Rowan wielded his mandola as spry as players half his age and for those who have followed him on this journey, it was great to see him still pulling it off.

Walking off stage and waving to the standing ovation, the group rallied for a minute before returning for the only encore thus far in the day. Returning under a shower of joy and recognition, Rowan took a final pass at the mic:

Good Sunday, huh? I would like to dedicate this song to a friend of mine who really was the origin of the Free Mexican Airforce and probably the real original Panama Red. He started out his illustrious career in the herbal business, swimming across the Rio Grande with garbage bags full of Miojuacan..uh…Mexican…. Miojuacan….. whatever that stuff was that we can’t remember anything about. So, this is for my old partner Temple Boone, Buck Boone. This is for you, Buck. God bless you always. Panama Red. One..Two..Three..

Closing his set with the moniker he is often associated with, Rowan’s “Panama Red” had people singing, smoking, and swooning to the tale of the lady’s man happy to corrupt anyone’s sensibilities with a good time, and a good time is certainly what we all had under the direction of this living legend and wonderful band as the sun set on the river.

With a day full of more notes than one could count and finally reaching the closing set of the night, Sirotniak returned with some final words of appreciation and recognition for the teams that make the magic possible at RockyGrass every year:

As we settle on our tarps and chairs for the night, I am so grateful to extend some heartfelt thanks to all of our festival partners and folks who have supported us for this year’s RockyGrass. I am grateful for all these folks who have worked so hard to put on our 51st Anniversary RockyGrass: our volunteer coordinator and all of our volunteers, our ops crew, our box office, parking and transportation crews, Country Store, our sponsor coordinators, hospitality, grounds crew, festival artistry and ‘foof’, our communications and marketing crew, security, sustainability and waste crew, our sound crew, and our stage crew, and most of all thank you, our Festivarians, for making this such a wonderful event! Here’s to another half-century of music at Planet Bluegrass!

With the masses cheering on all the behind-the-scenes teams that truly make this festival run like clockwork, the voice of RockyGrass announced the final players of the weekend:

And now to close out our 51st annual Rockygrass, multiple IBMA award winner, Guitar Player of the Year, Song of the Year, Female Vocalist of the Year, and more, including this year’s Grammy Award winner for Best Bluegrass Album Crooked Tree. Are you all ready? Please give them a great big RockyGrass welcome, Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway.

Walking on to The Beatles’ “Sargent Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band”, the band smiled humbled and proud to a standing ovation, and welcomed everyone to their set, “Hello RockyGrass, how you doing out there tonight? We are so excited to close out Sunday night with you all!”

The band hit the ground running with the fast-paced “Evergreen, OK”, a selection from the group’s City of Gold. Released a little more than a week before RockyGrass, this one demonstrated why the band is riding high on the train of success. Tight, focused, and filling every moment with the perfect note and pitch, this one speaks of a girl born to be free, shrugging off the struggle of her expected future in the Midwestern red dirt state. The band grabbed everyone by the ear, and all were happy to come along.

“San Joaquin” kept the RPMs high, flying at a breakneck speed. The sheer precision of Kyle Tuttle and Dominick Leslie on banjo and mandolin respectively is without compare. True fire! Let’s not forget the flaming fiddle wielded by Bronwyn Keith-Hines. With ponytail whipping the air as her wrist and fingers blurred, the lines she pulled showed that she was certainly no backup player.

Breathing heavy and glowing, Molly giggled, “If you can’t tell, we’re pretty excited up here!”

Keeping it original, “Castilleja” was up next. This one from last year’s multiple award-winning album Crooked Tree, kept spirits high and showed that the musical mistress and her band of pickin’ gypsies is not relegated to Appalachia, but can take this traveling show anywhere. The mid-section contained some Eastern textures, Kyle pushing the flow, Shelby Means droning out on the upright, Brownwyn conjuring the desert winds, and Molly striking her notes with accuracy and passion. With lyrical imagery, this one was the full package.

Pausing from the high of three in a row and a crowd eager for more, Molly radiated at the microphone:

Thank you all so much. Wow, I can’t believe it, we’re here closing out Sunday night at RockyGrass. It is an understatement to say that this is a dream come true for all of us up here. Some of us grew up going to this festival. I think Dom was saying he has been here twenty-six times now. Shelby remembered when she played here as a kid. We all have such fond memories of this festival, and it is so wonderful to be back here in Colorado with you all here at Planet Bluegrass. Thank you for having us. We’re celebrating just one week of our new record City of Gold. We just played a couple of new songs for you and we’re going to do another. This one’s called “Next Rodeo”.

With the strength of a solid country tune, “Next Rodeo” turned many a pair of Birkenstocks into boots and had everyone channeling their inner cowboy or cowgirl and loving the conversion in a two-stepping fashion.

“Open Water” gave opportunity for Bronwyn Keith-Hynes to put on a clinic in the master class of ridiculous playing, peeling anyone left sitting at this point from their chair to, at the very least, get a better look to see if her fiddle would take what this talented titan of tension was dishing out. After catching her display, It is no wonder that she has won the IBMA’s Best Fiddle Player of the Year for the last two years. This one certainly ended any unresolved question about the group’s ability to close out this historic festival, the rest of the band hitting all the notes in perfect sync to Brownyn’s chaotic lead of perfection, just as they had been doing since the beginning of the set.

Still clapping, standing, and begging for more, for the Deadheads in the crowd, “Dire Wolf” got some airplay. Laid back and full of beautiful vocals, this one would have had Jerry’s ear from start to finish. Without a pause, the band downshifted and merged back onto the super highway of fun, putting rubber to the road with “Over The Line”. After a river of notes that just kept moving faster and faster until it stopped on a dime, the band looked around at each other, the field buzzing with delight, and laughed along with everyone on the ride. Molly shared what she was feeling, “There’s kind of like this special feeling you get when you are playing really fast music at this altitude, it’s like WHOA!!!! I feel like I either had too much coffee today or I am about to pass out, but I think it's the former.”

As the crowd agreed and shared their full realization of the dizzying capacity that this band reaches, Molly continued, “I don’t know if you noticed, but there was a Tuttle on stage earlier. My little brother, Sullivan Tuttle, was playing with AJ LEE and Blue Summitt. My dad Jack Tuttle is here and my other younger brother Michael Tuttle is also here. And then there is another Tuttle on stage. Will you please make welcome, Kyle Tuttle.”

Demonstrating his outgoing personality he is often recognized for, Kyle took a moment of appreciation before the two Tuttles of talent put to rest one of the mysteries haunting fans of the band:

Kyle: Ah, Thank you Molly, and thank you, folks!

Molly: With all the Tuttles running around this year at RockyGrass, Me and Kyle have been getting a lot of questions, like ‘Are you guys, siblings? Are you married? What’s going on?’ So, we figured here at Planet Bluegrass, we feel like we’ve grown pretty close, we feel like friends here, so we thought we would let you in on the real reason why we share the same last name, Tuttle.

Kyle: Molly’s right folks, there’s a lot of people asking the question ‘Are you married? Are you brother and sister? Are you cousins?’ And the truth of the matter is this is bluegrass music those don’t…why does it just have to be one of those things? I mean, c’mon?!?!?! But seriously though, on a serious note, It’s true, she did list all the siblings and I wasn't one of the siblings, right? So, we share the same name because we may or may not have been hitched and maybe um…we got divorced, it's amicable…Love takes a backseat to bluegrass, but Molly is just so generous she let ME keep the last name. So, that’s sort of like the down-and-dirty business of how it unfolded and there’s actually a song about it that came out on the newest record.

Molly: But it was too sad, it’s a duet. We were too sad to sing it together, so we had to get Dave Matthews to come in and sing on this one. He’s not here today.

Kyle: I just couldn’t do it, but I can do it today for you guys, you know because we are telling you our deepest darkest secrets here. Yeah, Dave had to stand in for me on the record.

With the Tuttle enigma revealed for many, “Yosemite” detailed the feelings, unspoken and shared, of the presumably deteriorating relationship between these two kindred spirits who, despite all the signs and revelations, kept trying to make it work for six years or more. Despite the sadness and heartbreak, this one from Cities of Gold was another gem and the two sounded healthy and strong singing it out together.

As one can never have too much Tuttle in the performance setting, Molly stuck with this tried-and-true rule and asked everyone to welcome her father, “What do you say we bring out one more Tuttle? I would like to bring my dad, Jack Tuttle, up to the stage to sing this next one with us.”

Receiving the expected warm reception, Molly queried her patriarch, “Are you having a good time at RockyGrass?”, and shining like a kid, Jack responded, “I am having a fabulous time. I’m out there jamming in the wee hours of the morning. That’s what I come to do.”

With a bit of comedy, Molly did her best-exaggerated parenting scowl at her dad’s shenanigans in the campground, "He’s hanging out with Shelby’s parents and Dominic’s parents, they’re all staying up way too late!”, getting laughter from both sides of the stage. Full of that independent youthful spirit of rebellion, Jack just looked at her with a giggle and said, “Who cares?!?!”, prompting more joy from the venue.

Getting back to the business, Molly introduced the next number:

Well, alright, this next song is one that I wrote about the very first bluegrass festival I went to with my dad when I was ten years old. It was like my RockyGrass. It was in Grass Valley, California. It was The Father’s Day Bluegrass Festival and I think the first time I went there; I was just so afraid to even join a jam session, but then I went year after year after that and it was how I kind of fell in love with this style of music. When I was writing my record Crooked Tree, I’d written a whole bunch of songs that were inspired by those first songs I’d learned around the campfire at a bluegrass jam, and I figured I needed to write one more for all the wonderful bluegrass festivals throughout the country like this one. It holds such a special place in my heart, and I think all of us here on stage kinda grew up playing at these festivals, so it really means a lot to be here with you all tonight.

Speaking to the inspired child and painting pictures from Molly’s mind, “Grass Valley” was everything she described in the preface. The closing lyrical stand depicted the author, years later, sitting around a campfire and seeing herself reflected in another, the circular design continuing as nervous promise turns to dedicated practice and finally finds form in confidence, all born from the fertile grounds of the festival. Jack’s solo in this one showed that the apple, or apples as it were, didn’t fall far from this tree.

As the cheers faded and Jack walked off stage with a look of pride, his daughter reaching such great heights and touched by her heartfelt thanks, Shelby thumped out the familiar bassline of Jefferson’s Airplane “White Rabbit”. The tune inched along like the psychedelic caterpillar, until the auditory hallucinations set in, initiated by Bronwyn and Kyle, taking turns spinning the mind and horizon. The tail shifted tempo multiple times, begging everyone to try to hold on.

Bypassing the applause at the end, Johnny Horton’s “Sleepy Eyed John” was up next and Shelby plucking the upright and led the vocal charge. Belting both out with confidence on this rapid relay just further showed that ALL members of this band excel at it all.

Originally featuring Billy Strings on the Crooked Tree recording, the Tuttle original “Dooley’s Farm” tells the tale of bootleg ganja in the hills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. With a heavy air, dark and brooding, the song is bluesy bluegrass at its finest. The jam got some smokin’ (pun intended) mando from Dominic and was well-received by the Colorado conglomerate. With its subject content, it's no wonder that Strings was called in to bring it on this one.

Keeping with the green theme, Molly introduced a continuation of the last song, written as an open letter to the state of Tennessee. We don’t have a lot of the nice things you have here in Colorado.’ With an old-time swing and a serious message to get things changed for a better South, “Down Home Dispensary” was well performed and received a good laugh from the audience. Kyle’s banjo burned brightly and Molly’s solo smoked, much like many of the patrons were out front. Everyone getting a chance to take a hit off the good stuff, this one was well received on so many levels.

Striking Gold once again, “Eldorado,” told the tale of Gold Rush Kate and the cavalcade of characters dotting her journey in pursuit of the motherlode. The swift midsection sparkled and drew those in with the notes of fortune and siren harmonies. Doing one just for the cowgirls in the house and presenting with another reflection of female empowerment, “Side Saddle” read as a tune of equality for early women, bucking the status quo, intent on ‘riding bow-legged like the boys’. Shelby got an opportunity to walk the neck of the upright front and center.

Preempting the purpose of the next draw and getting the crowd riled, Molly made a call to arms for another new track, “Are you ready to get wild with us on this next one? It’s Sunday night! We’re closing out the weekend here at RockyGrass!” With the band and crowd bustling, the band fired up their anthem of letting loose with “Where Did All The Wild Things Go?”, Molly and Kyle handling the vocals and inciting everyone to let loose. With a gritty stomp, things got dusty and had everyone ecstatic to be wild.

Taking a moment to get a bit more personal and vulnerable, Molly softened and engaged the crowd with a different tone:

That last one was a new one, we’re going to do a bit more familiar one now. This is the title track of my record that came out last year it's been such a joy getting to play these songs all over the country this past year and we have dreamed of playing them here at RockyGrass so I just can’t say enough what an honor this is. It was so exciting; we were just pinching ourselves all day. This song is all about embracing our differences and accepting who we are and accepting the hard things in life that make us stronger. For me, I wrote this song inspired by my experience growing up. As a kid, I lost all my hair when I was three years old. I have what is called alopecia, which basically just means your body just doesn’t grow hair. Tonight, was really fun ‘cause I just got this new wig and I was excited to bust it out for the first time here at RockyGrass, but I am also kinda feeling like, you know, it's time to let my hair down.

Finishing her statement with an exclamation mark, Molly removed her crown and stood there baring her soul surrounded by her family of five thousand strong, smiling from ear to ear, showing her strength as she championed the soundness of all witnessing her courage. With an audience, clapping, cheering, and connecting to her substance, Molly finished, “So I want to sing this one for all the crooked trees out there, you are beautiful just as you are.”

“Crooked Tree'' delivered an inspirational message in both word and sound, born from Molly’s spirit, lighthearted and visceral, removing stones of stagnant emotion and making everyone feel more human as every person’s roots drank deep from the flowing headwaters of the Tuttle wellspring. Tears, hugs, and appreciation were shared throughout the tribe moving and feeling as one in that purest of moments, goosebumps abounding, making us all feel so much life and humanity in the moment.

As everyone knows, no respected bluegrass festival closer would be complete without a superjam and certainly RockyGrass consistently refuses to disappoint. For the big finish, the who’s who would happen around the familiar Townes Van Zandt staple “White Freightliner Blues”. Adding to the quintet, Molly welcomed to the stage the string strengths of mandolinist Chris Henry, flat picker David Grier, her own talented sibling Sully Tuttle, and legendary fiddle player Darol Anger. As one would expect, once this eighteen-wheeler got going down the highway, there was no stopping it. With everyone getting a turn at the wheel, this rambling anthem of truckin’ and pickin’ made all the stops and went way over the speed limit multiple times, all to the delight of the cargo strapped in tight for the cross-country adventure.

Observing the moment to recognize the lady of the hour, Kyle got on the squawk box to throw light on Molly:

Holy smokes! RockyGrass, RockyGrass, RockyGrass! Have we had one heck of a time playing for all you people!?!?! Now we’re not done yet and we just had a lot of fun with all of our friends here, but it is now time to take one second to talk about our fearless band leader up here, folks. She is a two-time, not once, but two-time International Bluegrass Guitar Champion of the Universe, you know how hard that is, right? She just won a Grammy too, right? Folks, she is up here writing the songs, she’s playing the songs, she’s singing the songs, she’s getting this bunch of goofballs down the road all year long together, folks, y’all make some RockyGrass noise for the one and only Molly Tuttle!

To close out the set, Molly pulled out one of her older pieces, “Take the Journey” from the 2019 release When You’re Ready and this one was the perfect send-off, reminding everyone, good, bad, and ugly, the journey is worth it and it all eventually leads the heart home.

With such high energy from the beginning, it came as no surprise that the still-filled field was begging for one more at the end of Molly’s set, and with smiles bigger than the crowd out in front of them, the band returned with friends to lift everyone off on more time. Before getting to it, Molly opted to share what she was feeling. Flush with an obvious mix of emotion, modesty, and exhilaration she shared, “Okay! All the words that are coming to my mind are curse words! Oh my gosh! Wow! Thank you so much! That was amazing! Planet Bluegrass, we can feel the love and I really hope that y’all can feel our love coming out to you tonight! We are just so honored to be here!”, driving the audience to cheer the whole of the group on even more.

“Big Backyard” was the pick and this song of unity, simplifying the world as a big backyard we all share in, one better off without fences and division, kept everyone swimming in the positive vibes of the weekend. Upping the bliss ante even more, the circle of friends slipped right into John Denver’s “Rocky Mountain High”, resulting in the loudest singalong of the night, maybe even the weekend, before returning to “Big Backyard” and a roar that was probably heard from Denver to Boulder, and all across the Front Range.

For fifty-one years, RockyGrass has been bringing the musical community together and at this point, this festival is so much more than an annual event, it has become a legacy. With a multitude of generations in attendance and whether it was one’s first time or their fifty-first, it was easy to see that all who participated in RockyGrass got lost in the moment and for a weekend, time stood still, the outside world faded, and the soul was recharged. From solo-fueled epiphany to group consciousness exercises set to tone and melody, no one who entered the lands bordered by the St. Vrain left the same as whence they arrived.

As community flourishes from family, the vibrance and sanctity of the event exude trust and comfort. With children frolicking about, independent and free explorers, devoid of helicopter parents or concerns for safety, this witnessed experience illustrates the level of solace one feels walking the boundaries of the canyon like the offspring enjoying their innocence, many adults participate much in the same way, investigating every nook and secret garden of wonder, all the while having the best live soundtrack one could imagine.

The RockyGrass experience is focused on just that, the experience of everyone entering its space. Taking care to curate opportunity, not the party puts the celebration of life at the forefront, and with every base need to be considered and met with quality, smiles abound endlessly, strangers converse like unmet friends, head nods and recognition go on without limits, and this 72-hour community functions less like a festival and more like a model for humanity.

The communal dynamic is not limited to just the patronage but can be seen being experienced by the performers who bare their souls on the hallowed stage in Lyons. Backstage, conversations and exchanges of craft and truth are a constant and everyone realizes the fortune they are experiencing getting to be in the historic space along the river. Out front, artists sit, alone or often with their own families, and take in their peers, cheering them on and gleaning their own truths from those they call brother and sister in peaceable arms, showing that here there is no line separating star and fan, but rather a circle that holds us all together as one body, breathing in the air of life and exhaling the gift of gratitude.

As anyone knows, pulling off what happens here at the end of every July does not come to fruition without a significant amount of hard work by people who believe in this dream and make it a reality. From the backstage to the front of the house, the staff of Planet Bluegrass take pride in the history and legend that is RockyGrass. Whether it is their first one as a team member or they have been there since the beginning and believe me I talked to a few with that credential, the dynamic is the same: we are all here to create and be a part of something special that will continue well past our service or this weekend alone.

Even after twenty-plus pages of words, there is so much more that could be stated about what has been bringing fans of bluegrass back for over half a century. With new connections gifted and fresh experiences made, five thousand return to Lyons as individuals, but leave as a group, serving under one moniker as Festivarians, individual celestial bodies, orbiting each other, creating a constellation once a year pointing everyone home to the epicenter of the Appalachian galaxy known as Planet Bluegrass.

The Latin word maestro translates to the word master and according to The Merriam-Webster Dictionary, one definition of this esteemed label, as it pertains to the following content, is ‘a great figure of science or art whose work serves as a model or ideal’, while another interpretation reads ‘having or showing very great skill or proficiency’. For jazz enthusiasts and critics alike, all can agree that Ron Carter embodies these characterizations to the Nth degree. From being the most recorded bassist in history to playing with and being sought after by every other great musician, to delivering behind the pen as an author, composer, and teacher, when it comes to decades of dedication and a versatile delivery in instrumentation and creativity, few can hold a candle to the prolific career of The Maestro Ron Carter.

If his renowned status inscribed across the musical and literary universe wasn’t enough, the man, myth, and legend continue to this day to defy mortality further by continuing on his endless tour of getting behind the stick and string to make music, all the while searching, finding, and creating the new, even in pieces he has been playing for decades. By his own admission at eighty-six years strong, this discerning and steadfast giant is ‘still trying to find the right notes to get to a different level’ and last week, Denver’s jazz collective had the opportunity to see this luminary shine as bright as he ever has.

Located in downtown Denver as a part of the Denver Performing Arts Complex, Dazzle is the Mile High City’s premier listening room for all things jazz. The space is warm and intimate, and sparkles with fine dining and libations, all of which play into the refined palettes of its discerning patronage. With a strict ‘whisper only’ policy, this venue is every music lover's dream who seeks to experience live music the way all performances should be: with ears wide open. Although the fire code placard denotes those 297 souls is the capacity of the room, for seated shows, the number is cut in half, and walking in, realizing how lucky any of us were to be seeing Mr. Ron Carter in this small club with its almost ground level stage, the anticipatory excitement was palpable even before the first notes were even played.

As the seven o’clock hour struck, Dazzle’s Music Director Nick Moulds welcomed the seated crowd to the evening’s special event with a warm heart and wide smile. After going over the ground rules and reminding everyone that Dazzle and its experience is based on community, a tenet illustrated by small rocks at each guest’s table, signifying the cornerstone of fellowship that makes music and this space so special, he added some comedy on behalf of the group. Smiling, Nick stated, “The band also requested no sleeping tonight. I already know that won’t be a problem”, prompting everyone to laughter. As the chuckling subsided, Moulds proceeded, “Without any further ado, it is my ABSOLUTE pleasure to welcome to the Dazzle stage, The Golden Striker Trio. Give it up!”

Walking on to a very warm welcome, the trio got the evening started without a word and settled everyone in with “Eddie’s Theme”. Swinging with the blues, this one from Carter’s 1998 release So What, put everyone right into the perfect head space. The sound of the room was well balanced, no one player drowning out another, and no matter where one was sitting, smiles abounded. The trio started off as a whole and developed the parameters of the piece flawlessly. Malone got the first solo and his spot hit all the marks, many grooving in their seats to his delivery. Carter was up next and thundered away with eyes closed, full in the moment, smiling at times, grimaced at others, always moving forward. Vega’s playing throughout was thoughtful, supportive, and consistently right, his gaze locked in on his leader, other times lost in the shadow of his keys. The totality of the opener came in at twelve minutes and we all knew that this would be an evening to remember.

As much as there is no deficit of notes from Carter, he also lacks little in the way of words. Pulling the microphone from its stand, The Maestro introduced the band and took some time to engage:

Thank you. Piano, Donald Vega. Guitar, Russell Malone. And then there’s me. We’re here and it’s nice to see you here supporting this room. Thank you from us. This is a year of some tremendous events and we have decided to use this evening to honor those who are important to us, both here and gone. So, our first remembrance is to the birthday of ninety-three-year-old Sonny Rollins. Our thoughts go to the members of the family of the late great bassist Richard Davis. This next piece is dedicated to the memory of our dearly departed Cedar Walton, written by Russ Malone, called “Cedar Tree”.  

In seated acceptance, the trifecta of effects jumped into the aforementioned Malone tune and the journey continued. Fashioned with great call-and-response from each of the three respective gentlemen, this one boogied. Carter’s delivery was agile and vibrant, and with the changes, The Myth swung hard. Vega’s voice shifted accents and inflection, speaking volumes on the subjects of structure and improvisation, alternating between whisper and exclamation. Malone’s muted fretwork embraced the unit in warmth. Coming in at six minutes of ‘oh my goodness’, the only thing that would have made this choice any better was if the band had kept on playing in and around its intricate theme, a joyful experience anyone in the room would have been happy to entertain.

Taking only a moment to introduce his next choice, Carter did it all with the simple statement, “This next piece is just a nice song”. Taken from a French tune from the 1940s and noted as one of the most recorded songs in jazz, the staple “Autumn Leaves” was recognized by many in the room, and for many ears, this one was certainly so much more than ‘nice’, especially when Mr. Ron Carter is involved. Once the body had been detailed, Vega got first dibs at the solo and he danced all over the eighty-eight, showing again his earned right to man the bench. Carter played with great accompaniment, his moan and stretch filling the spaces perfectly. Malone flipped from chopping out the rhythm to tapping out the beat on the hollow-body, biding his time until it was his moment to shine. When that moment came, he and Carter, bound by the structure, bounced off each other into long thoughts and then under recoil, flittered through short outbursts that kept everyone involved in the dynamic conversation. The final movement was all Carter, his partners in time, hanging back so he could lay it all out. Dropping a barrage of notes, the conduit of the low end moved and shook through the melody with ease, leaving the crowd applauding in his wake and him, with a smile across his gentle face.

As the fanfare faded from the preceding thirteen-minute adventure, the tall thin master sat atop his stool and smiled with raised brow, his expression not seeming so much the result of the accolades, but rather his spirit moved by the piece, his face round with emotion as though he had played it for the first time or found something new in his channeling. Taking a moment and a breath, he stated only two words in exhale, “Autumn Leaves” as he let out a sigh and gazed into the eyes of the front row, everyone feeling at least a touch of what was going on within him.

With the moment passed, Carter got back to the matter at hand and dialed up track three, “This next piece is dedicated to the memory of my dear friend Jim Hall. We miss him every day. This is my song dedicated to Jim called ‘Candlelight’.” This one glowed and flickered, moving with a loose outline, each band member slipping in their shine intermittently. Malone’s voice transitioned between jazz and classical without complication and again, Carter was more than happy to support, letting the spotlight shine from within his partner as a patient and attentive crowd, including Vega, took in Malone’s lilting fretwork, sliding and shifting with light dexterity. With the final notes fading, the crowd clapping emphatically, Malone smiling, and the Carter / Vega duo witnessing the abundant appreciation, The Maestro took up the mic again and introduced Malone, not once, but twice, and as many stood and cheered on the nod even more, Carter added, “Now that’s why I come to work every night”, resulting in even more listeners taking to their feet and hands in thankful observation. With another coming in at double digits, it was great to hear that the evening was not going to be treated like a greatest hits set, but rather the seatbelts we had all put on were certainly warranted.

Explaining the impetus for the choice at hand, Carter shared, “This next piece is dedicated to one of our friends again who has left The Concert, Antonio Carlos Jobim. Here is our version of a ballad with Carlos in mind called Opus 5.” As Jobim is regarded as one of the most influential songsmiths of the twentieth century, the father of many jazz standards, and a leading force in the development of the bossa nova style of music, it was no wonder that “Opus 5” would carry the spirit and flavor of the inspiration’s Brazilian heritage and, in honoring the late composer and friend of Carter, the composition would consist of multiple movements, each defined by their own cadence and character.

Adding a little mystery to the set, Carter prefaced song six with, “This next piece is dedicated to one of my former bosses who left The Concert about twenty years ago. This was his favorite ballad. Let’s try and guess what this song is.” Within a few notes, it was apparent that “My Funny Valentine” was the not-so-enigmatic song in question. The opening between Vega and Carter was soft and unhurried, and when Malone jumped into the mix, the amorous choice became all the more enriching to the soul. Six minutes into the passage, Carter and Malone sat in repose as Vega ran away with the room’s attention, every being quiet and still, hanging on each climb and descent from the piano. After another four minutes, the warming dynamic turned, and as Carter struck hard with a vamp on “A Love Supreme”, Malone picked up the tempo, playing in double time and creating some unsettling emotion over the foundation of Carter and Vega. The final two minutes roused those lost in the melodic dream and had those appreciative of the be-bop dynamic calling out for more, one guy yelling out ”Yeah!” at the end of the organized chaos. With the final notes, The Maestro turned everyone’s attention to Vega three times over, garnishing a grin and a bow to everyone.

Easing back as members of the audience, Vega and Malone looked on as Carter began some loose tuning to start his solo portion of the program. Utilizing “You Are My Sunshine” as the centerpiece to demonstrate his abundant talent, The Maestro took the traditional and made it everything but, shifting through jazz, country, and swing, once again proving his expertise at the moment, searching for and hitting the right notes that had many holding their breath for nearly eight minutes. As the final low note of the unexpected rang out, the crowd abandoned their chairs in a standing ovation to this Master who has given so much to the muse of creativity. Mr. Carter stood there, looming and humbled, flanked by his fellow music men who had left their posts to posit themselves at his side, basking in the gratitude while also adding to the gratuity of the man who had brought them together once again to make that beautiful thing, we all call music.

Picking up the microphone one final time, Carter smiled and joked, “Good night. I’ve had enough," lifting the spirit of an already elevated crowd. Smiling along with his constituents, he continued:

We’re going to finish up this first set of our brief west coast…near the west coast?… Denver… Denver is close, right?... It’s not east…by playing a song we learned about a year ago and I finally got it right. Before I give that to you, I will give you something very special. I know you all have notebooks and iPhones to take notes, right? I am going to give you an address to put into your notebook right now. C’mon, I know you are hiding a notebook. You got one, OK. I will spell it for you: R-O-N-C-A-R-T-E-R-U-N-I-V-E-R-S-E-.com, that’s my gift to each of you for being here. No cost to you and less to me. Take a look and let me know what you feel. Here’s our version of “Soft Winds” with Donald Vega on piano, Russell Malone on guitar, and I’m the guy at the microphone. Thank you so damned much.

The Benny Goodman original and forever jazz standard achieved lift-off once again for the room. Opening wide and slack, this version was more felt than calculated construction. Although seated from start to finish, Carter walked that bass all over that room full of delight. Meandering and light for the first three and half minutes, without a signal or a look, Malone grabbed time itself and had his way with it, Carter and Vega joining in on the steeplechase sprint that Malone had initiated. Galeing for several measures, Malone and Carter stepped to the shoulder once again and let Vega run wild. Following the pianoman’s demonstration, the two returned to hit each other’s exclamation point of the punchy portion before slowing their roll into the soft ending, the faces surrounding simmering with steam, sweat, and smiles.

For the final tune of the set, the trio sent everyone out feeling the love with a take on the cover “There Will Never Be Another You”. As a track from Carter’s 2014 release In Memory of Jim, a tribute album to Jim Hall following his passing in 2013, it was hard to determine whether Carter was thinking of Hall, the audience, or his lovely wife and family, but one thing was for sure: as far as the audience was concerned, we listened to that final song through the lens of this living legend and counted ourselves lucky to be sitting before this gentle giant still willing to share his soul with those willing to listen in on his shared moment, to drink deep from this life and his immutable choice to keep serving that which he has been blessed with.

Mr. Ron Carter and The Golden Striker Trio went on to play four more sets at Dazzle for the next two nights and talking to others who attended some of the other sets, their faces sparkled with recall as they shared their moments in the Son, seeing history, the present, and the future all unroll melodically at the exact same time. When I got home, I looked up the gift Ron gave us all, www.roncarteruniverse.com, and what I found was more than I expected and as it has taken a lifetime for him to create, it will take another to listen to it all. Maestro, thank you for your contribution to this world. Your presence has made this life a more beautiful place and the tale you have told will inspire many for years to come. May you be long for The Concert!

At the end of September, with the changing leaves and cool breeze, the solid improv experience that is Eggy brought its colorful array to warm the hearts of Colorado to close out the month with back-to-back shows. Hitting up The Aggie Theatre for night one in Fort Collins followed by a stop at Cervantes in Denver, this quartet channeled their positivity in both word and wobble to crowds consisting of both first-timers and repeat customers, all of whom were treated to this up-and-coming band’s twist on the experiential jam.

With a capacity of 600, the Aggie Theatre show was noticeably undersold, but this dynamic didn’t stop the band from throwing down as if they were in front of a house twice as big and filled to the gills. Stepping out onto the stage, those who turned out gave over a warm welcome, letting the band know they were in for good times and had no intent of leaving.

Drummer Alex Bailey smiled and reached for the mic, initiating the evening with a little call and response with the audience, “Eggy, Aggie, Eggy, Aggie, Oye Oye Oye”. Changing up round two, Bailey called out the band/venue portion, “Aggie, Eggy, Aggie, Eggy”, leaving the audience to answer, “Oye Oye Oye”. With everyone on cue for their part, one last pass was made, “Aggie, Aggie, Aggie, Aggie, Oye Oye Oye”, leaving both the intimate crowd and band laughing, before Bailey grinned and asked, “How does that go again?”. With many still giggling, the band got things underway with the lighthearted “Upside Down”. With a String Cheese meets Hornsby dynamic, king of the keys Dani Battat maneuvered between the piano sound and organ fills with ease, often having his hands on different rigs simultaneously.

The limber guitar work of Jake Brownstein showed early on that the evening was going to take flight. Anchoring the low end, bassist Mike Goodman filled all the gaps well and from song one, the band came off tight, intent, and seriously fun. When the first track closed out at over nine minutes, everyone in the room was fully engaged and strapped in for the ride.

Taking the lead on vocals once again, Bailey led the room through “Apology” next, handling the lyrics well while keeping everyone on time, a feat that deserves recognition in and of itself. The rest of the band harmonized on this lighter piece making the delivery shine with refinement and skill. Brownstein completed a steady climb at the end that ended in some great fireworks.

Putting on a more prog rock dynamic for the third choice, the band bounced through the angular “Solid Ground”. Equipped with odd time signatures, multiple changes, and script for days, the band moved as one unit with ease. The end portion got a little more dancey and Battat went from organ into synth antics, giving the close of the piece an eighties feel. Brownstein matched Battat’s instrumentation with a myriad of effects and the final minutes of the tune just popped.

Battat led the band through the next selection “Farthest Step”. This one coming in at nearly ten minutes showcased the power of the singer's voice. The accentuated dynamics of the structure balanced nicely against some of the softer points. The six-minute midsection eventually built into a dizzying exchange between all the players before it broke free and returned to the familiar, leaving everyone laughing, spinning, and grinning. Without a pause, the band moved into another original with “Way of the Stone”. This softer piece laid against its predecessor showed the band's varied ability to push and pull the music along.