Flanfire

There’s this old song, “Rueben James,” which asks the question, “Will you remember their names?”  Now here in Austin, folks have gotten accustomed to the name Ruby Jane – which of course is that soon to be 15-year-old Mississippi fiddler whose last name is Smith.  No doubt about it — she’s pretty special.  But just wait, Austin, until you tune your ears into the incomparable Ruby James — whose sulky smooth vocals remind me of the finest dark chocolate with a raspberry center — throaty perfection indeed.  Will Sexton and Charlie Faye kept telling me about this California woman who had come to Austin by way of South Carolina, so we are told, to make a record with the Sexton brothers — both producing AND playing — which may well be generally available by mid-October.  Just wait till you hear this — OR sit outside in the late afternoon sun next Monday at Cedar Street (or get down to the Red Shed Tavern on August 27th) and catch her live and in person, ruby red hair and all.  You will just have to wait to get my CD review — but this stuff is just beautiful.  I got to meet Ruby (after taking her photo at Charlie Faye’s CD release) at House Wine — my favorite Monday night hangout and a great place every night of the week — over cheese and crackers and, well, wine.  Ruby sang a few songs — and I pledged to get out the very next week to Cedar Street — and again at House Wine, where she closed her set with Stevie Nicks’ “Landslide” (for her mom).  But her own songs are just so very good — which of course is why Charlie and Will (and Mike Thompson) were thrilled to work with her on “The Austin Sessions.” 

Now I had been out of the country admonishing college students about how to value the poor enugh to learn from them and work together to build a better life and so missed five days of Austin music — but I returned Saturday night with a vengeance.  Last stuff I had seen before leaving town was The Daze at Waterloo (promoting their own brand new CD and the soundtrack from the movie “Bandslam,” where they and the members of Joker are featured performers) and Max Frost and Sasha Ortiz (from Blues Mafia) doing an acoustic set at Hyde Park Bar & Grill’s Westgate location.

I got off the plane on Saturday, grabbed a cab, changed into going out clothes and went to the Aligator Grill to dine and catch a set from the Carson Brock Group before heading over to the Continental Club for Bruce James’ CD release and a blazing 100-minute set from T-Bird and the Breaks (my first time to see Miranda Dawn as one of the Breaks).  Stephen Beasley put on quite a show on baritone sax — and fellow hornblowers Houston Rawls and Mark Price (he who it is rumored broke out into Michael Jackson routines while on the road recently) clearly out-danced the three girl singers all of whom are very good dancers (Miranda, Sasha, and Stephanie Hunt  –  who is showing off her powerful pipes more and more as she prepares for another season of “Friday Night Lights”).  I hope to write more on Bruce’s new CD later, and he had packed the house with enthusiastic supporters of his keyboard funk.  But T-Bird and the band left the still-packed house screaming and shouting for a good fifteen minutes even though the band was totally spent. 

The other photo here is longtime Troubadillo and old friend Pat McCann playing at Ming’s with Eldridge Goins, Brad Houser, and Cole El-Saleh.  I stopped by long enough to chow down on the spinach stir-fry and visit with Parker Delaune and catch him rapping into his headphones (his mike, of course) out on the patio.  Parker, BTW, will enter first grade later this month – as will my grandson Caleb, who is already working on his guitar licks.

Okay — HERE are the guys from the Daze — Evan, Eric and Chris — signing BandSlam posters.  I had to show a photo of the stately rocker Amanda Lombard whose new band Struck debuted at Momo’s recently (and they will be back soon).  And that’s Tammy Brown, whose pesto made me dance — and who made a fabulous feast for the hundreds of folks (including dozens of children) who showed up at Momo’s on a HOT Sunday afternoon for another of Feeding 5000′s renowned “feeds.”  Tammy’s husband Aaron (who doubles as music teacher at Gymboree and thus as rugrat hero) is the band’s keyboard player, of course.  And I just had to throw in this great photo of Joe Beckham playing with Wisebird (he is also back with the Beckham Brothers too!) — one of Austin’s really good guys.

More to come in a companion post — don’t want to overload the program.

“Scars can fill us up with pride .. Scars can also make us hide those wounds we got when a part of us died….  How many scars do you have?  Will you ever show your scars to anyone?” 

At the memorial service two Januarys ago for my darling wife Nancy, I found myself speaking words about scars — how sometimes people’s scars are invisible to the eye but painfully obvious to the touch, especially a touch that is just not gentle enough to bring healing and comfort.  I was talking about how we need to be aware of who we are conversing with, how not to put foot in mouth or down their throat — how to spread life and not the crush of death.

That’s why I don’t listen to Lucinda Williams any more — except of course at the annual Hank and Lucinda Williams Hoot at the Cactus Cafe, the brainchild of fellow Red Sox fan Jenny Reynolds.  You see, it’s not that she left Austin, not that the last time I saw her at ACL Festival she was (well) not all there on stage.  It’s just that song.  You know, the one BettySoo [shown here with Charlie Faye at the Saxon last Saturday] sang Tuesday night …. the one that breaks my heart every time I hear it — the one that every time I hear any song of Lucinda’s it breaks my heart because I cannot forget that song.  The one that tells me my Susan is never going to call me on the phone — or ask me to iron her shirt for work — or give me a long lecture about how I need to love people better — again.  [Well, on another plane, she does come to me over and over through the people I meet out on the streets of Austin.]

“See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world….”   You see, I can hear those words once a year (or any other Lucinda song) because July 27th is Susan’s birthday — and I have to celebrate her life every day but especially at this special time.  When it matters most.  And somehow (though a day after this year) the Williams Hoot always helps me (though this is just the third year) celebrate Susan’s wonderful life — the life she chose to sacrifice thinking it would be better for the rest of us.

The nights SHE would wander the streets of her beloved Houston to seek out her lost girlfriends and try to bring them home to safety.  The weekends she spent with her disabled friend, even going to New Orleans for Mardi Gras and still getting back for her American Humanics meeting.  The day she died, she went to her job interview and then to the graduation ceremonies at the elementary school she had volunteered at, teaching reading to immigrant first and second graders.  And then the love our family was shown by Austin’s music community (in which we were still fledglings at the time) that has driven the Flanfire ship for nearly six years now.  For me, of course, the song sounds like, “See what I lost when you left this world,” except that out of that loss we have had great gain.  As you all know, life is made better through celebration … and knowing that we are all dying and so should live life to the fullest every living breathing moment.  [I can never think of Susan and not see Snoopy dancing.]

Susan would have turned thirty on Monday.  And Monday night, where was I?  Out at House Wine with some of my dearest friends — B. Sterling Archer (whose B. Sterling Band will soon be releasing its debut CD) and Melanie Martinez of Tiny Tin Hearts (which likewise has a CD about ready for prime time) — and Abbi Sims, whose spirit reminds me so much of my daughter’s — adventurous, honest, forthright, caring, and sharing … and in Abbi’s case, a downrightr good singer and budding songwriter and outstanding Open Mike hostess at House Wine.  Also in the house (well, outside in the front lawn) were Craig Marshall and Jon Notarthomas and Will T. Massey and the lovely Valerie Fremin (more very dear friendds) — Drew de France and Kurt McMahan from the band Ouachita, which plays Friday at the Belmont — and one Donnie Jones (shown here surrounded by Kurt along with Abbi and her songwriter friend Anna who hails from just south of Brenham, Texas).  And, oh yeah, Donnie Jones (who is better known these days as a wine merchant and vineyard owner) is a songwriter — a man who counted among his friends Townes Van Zandt and Blaze Foley and John Prine too (and of course Guy Clark), and whose songs are of that same caliber.  Will T is working with Donnie to record a bunch of his songs — some brand new, others buried for maybe decades.  Monday, it turns out, was Jay Sims’ birthday too, but we were mostly there to celebrate Abbi’s birthday on July 29th (which SHE was celebrating at the Cathedral of Junk).

But back to Tuesday night at the Cactus — which opened with Eric Hisaw and Chrissy Flatt and then Kerry Polk and friends and then The Flyin’ A’s (Stuart and Hilary Adamson) before emcee Tom Pittman made his actual debut singing and playing guitar all by his lonesome on a public stage.  After 40 years!  An historic occasion!  And, despite his own protestations, he was good lookin’ – sang well too!

After the break, it was Jenny herself and then Seth Walker, BettySoo and finally Guy Forsyth.  So after the show I found the two world-renowned lads standing side by side and popped out the camera for this photo — and Guy says this may be the first photo ever of the two of them together.  Whatever – Guy had closed his set with a brand-new song he wrote in remembrance of fallen hero Stephen Bruton.  Later he was showing off dozens of photos of his pride and joy, his 2-year-old daughter who is just gorgeous!  I know a little something about being a proud papa — Guy admits it has changed his life.

A few more notes before I go — and I promise I WILL get to those CD reviews sometime soon.  First off, we have Margo Valiante flanked by Etan Sekons and three-string bassist Kyle Clayton at the Whip In, where I was eating some of the best Indian food ever to grace my lips AND enjoying one of that venue’s many nights of fine Austin music.  [Hats off for their support of Groundworks!]  That was on Saturday, and I left at intermission to run to the Saxon to catch a great set from porterdavis (sadly, no decent photos for you).  Just stunning!  Mike Meadows on vocals and his patented drum-percussion rig, birthday boy Simon Wallace on harmonica and vocals, and Daniel Barrett on slide guitar and vocals.  The band was taking orders for their own new CD, which will be available at their August 28th Saxon Pub show — if they make it back home from Nova Scotia.  Then, as noted, it was Bettysoo, who opened with “Do Right Woman,” a Dan Penn song made famous by the Flying Burrito Brothers (okay, theirs was by no means the first, or even the biggest hit version, but Earl Poole Ball played on that record — as did (duh!) Gram Parsons).  No wonder she’s opening for Joan Baez!

The little lady in the yellow dress is Akina Adderley (yes, Nat Adderley, Jr.’s baby girl) — and SHE was the opening act at Sunday’s very well attended Austin2Africa event that was raising money for an orphanage for South African children whose parents had died of AIDS.  [The $20,000 they need for the project is but a drop in the bucket of Oprah's budget for her posh girls' school.]

This was Akina’s fourth show with her Village Playboys in four days (Victory Grill, Antone’s, Marcus Cardwell‘s backyard!) and she had to run out the door to sing the national anthem at a RollerGirls throwdown.  Also on the bill were Kalu James, Tandoorifinger, Paul Banks (who will be back at Momo’s soon), and the amazing John Pointer (who broke a string on his very first song and never slowed down).

Susan would have loved this extended weekend — from Thursday through Tuesday, great music one night after another.  Her favorite, of course, was long-time Austinite Steve Ulrich, whom she used to see regularly at the Hole in the Wall during its glory days singnig in between Quatropaw sets.  I like to think she is hearing the music I hear in Austin from her special place in the clouds.