Nick A. Zaino III

Random Thoughts: October 2000

A Night at the Opera

It has been a particularly good month for traveling and for live shows for me. I don’t think I’ve ever bounced around this country and seen so many shows in different states as I have since my trip down to Texas. That’s right, I’ve been to Texas (and Texas wants me anyway).

First, I got to see Beaver Nelson at his Wednesday night residency at the Continental Club in Houston. Nelson will release Little Brother, his second album, in late September on Blue Mountain’s Black Dog label. And judging from the tunes he played at the Continental, the record should be a more rockin’, band-oriented affair. He’s been playing with the same band, which includes guitarist Scrappy Judd Newcomb, long enough to have gotten comfortable with them. They were a solid unit live. Newcomb filled in mandolin and fiddle parts with an electric twelve-string, making tunes like “Company of Kings” sound like a bit like the younger Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers must have sounded live. But Nelson could still command a room by himself, and did so on “I’m Just Cryin’”. It was a fitting first-time-Texas musical experience for me.

Speaking of Blue Mountain, they have recorded a live album, and plan to be very active with Black Dog in the fall. No release date yet for the live disc, as far as I know. If any of you know, please drop me an e-mail and let me know.

Next, I was barely home for a week before I got to see Colonel Les Claypool and the Fearless Flying Frog Brigade in Cambridge. Les had Sausage-mates Todd Huth and Jay Lane along, as well as Ratdog keys man Jeff Chimenti and guitar wizard Eenor. It was a fun night of jamming. Claypool never seems to stop moving on stage, and the people surrounding him, whether it’s with Primus, the Holy Mackerel, Sausage, or the Brigade, are never boring. There were a few costumes onstage, including Lane’s Viking outfit, Chimenti’s oversized top hat, and, of course, Les’s pig mask. Which was only fitting, considering the second set was comprised completely of material from Pink Floyd’s “Animals” album. Everyone had ample time to strut their stuff. Lane’s set-ending drum solo was especially impressive.

The very next day, I drove to the old family homestead in Bloomfield, N.Y., about eight hours from Boston and the Frog Brigade show. That night, I got to see B.B. King, Buddy Guy, and Susan Tedeschi at an outdoor blues festival in Canandagua. (Figures I’d have to go to leave Tedeschi’s hometown of Boston to see her near my hometown). Tedeschi was powerful, already miles ahead of most in soul and guitar fire for someone so early in their blues career. She’s been at it for a while, but as far as playing a lick that will tear your heart out, and singing a line that will grab you by the throat, she’s an old soul. And that’s saying something, considering who else was on the bill.

Buddy Guy is probably one of the most entertaining human beings ever to grace planet earth. He held court for about an hour at the festival, moving through tributes to/routines about blues legends like John Lee Hooker and Albert King. At one point, he talked about English bands coming along and making bags of money playing the blues, launching into a deliberately prissy version of “Strange Brew” by Cream. He called them “The Cream”. He also walked through the crowd to find people to sing with him, and often shoohsed the crowd so he could talk. He spit out “Damn Right I’ve Got the Blues”, and generally played as if he would never get to play in front of people again. This is the second time I’ve seen him with B.B. King, and he is always a show-stealer.

What can you really say about B.B. King? I can’t possibly hope to add to his legacy with a few paltry words, or even alter it in any way. And if you don’t know what King sounds like by now, you ought to be frozen in carbonite with all of your Mariah Carey and Brittany Spears albums and stored in the Muzak world headquarters. King was, as always, a class act. Unfortunately, he was showing his 74 years a bit. He sat down for his set, but was quick to point out that, at his age, and at this point in his career, if he wants to sit, he’ll sit. I certainly won’t argue, and it didn’t seem to affect his singing or guitar playing at all. He was just as smooth as ever, pulling more nimble runs and licks out of Lucille than any man with fingers his size has a right to (see U2’s Rattle and Hum, “When Love Comes to Town”, where B.B. says, “I don’t play chords”.)

There are some good shows coming up. By the time you read this, I’ll have seen Peter Mulvey at Johnny D’s in Somerville and Whiskeytown frontman Ryan Adams at the Kendall Cafe. Both should be great shows.

To reprise the Pink Floyd reference, I recently got a record I haven’t been able to warm up to recently. It’s a good record, but it just doesn’t seem to catch fire with me. The disc is Diana Darby’s “Naked Time”. Darby’s voice is smooth, and her music is somewhere between Alison Krauss and Sylvia Plath. Maybe a female Syd Barret without the weird funny lyrics about elephants. This disc may grow on me yet, but it’s not every day listening.

On the other hand, you have the Barnyard Playboys and their disc, “Dumbass on a Rampage”. This is one of the funniest discs I’ve heard since a friend played me “Are You Drinkin’ With Me Jesus” by the Beat Farmers. It’s cowpunk in the spirit of the Supersucker’s “Must’ve Been High”, with all of the loud guitars and anti-PC sentiment. With titles like “Flat Butts and Beer Guts” and “Foggy Mountain Nervous Breakdown”, how could it be anything less. And if the music seems frightening, the pictures of the bank on the inside sleeve are downright frightening.

And if you’re down in New York City in September, look for a smart little pop band called The Villas. Haven’t had much of a chance to digest the disc they sent me yet, but they’ve obviously studied their rock and roll history.

I have finally gotten both Ryan Adams’ and Caitlin Cary’s solo albums, and both are well worth the wait. I hope the new Whiskeytown album, if it’s ever released anywhere besides Napster, sounds half as good. More on that next time if there’s room. In the meantime, I’ll be waiting for the new Alejandro Escovedo album and the Blue Mountain live discs.

If you hear of anything good, drop me a line at nick_zaino@fufkin.com. I’d love to hear from you.

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