McGoostock

“Of course! And, oh, I forgot! There was a big stage show! The headliner on this stage show was Malvolio the Magician. He performed wonderful tricks, many of them, such

 as pouring water back and forth between pitchers. First it turned to wine and then it turned to beer and then it turned to whiskey. It was Kentucky Straight Bourbon.”

-- Tennessee Williams (1911-1983) “The Glass Menagerie” 1945

The sky is high, whipping west. The pirate flag is breezy stiff. I’m checking it out after having two espressos and taking my medicine, which I just put out in the ashtray. Yes, I received word that my MMMP card came in the mail. Groovy!

Today’s topic is McGOOFEST. To that end, I’ll dispense with the interview format and go for a narrative approach.

Socially, the event became a gathering for a local demographic that rarely sees each other, the folks who were roughly twenty years old in 1970. Okay, 69, that sounds better. I noticed Snowflake was in attendance, or was that Gale Lajoye, I can never tell the difference.

The soiree nicely coincided with the Bishop Baraga/ MSHS high school reunion, which brought out a number of fellow mackerel snappers I hadn’t seen in a while, like Steve Richer and Francine Longtine. Last night Brigitte, Amanda, and I, attended a gourmet dinner at Julie’s and Kuhli’s Lakewood Lane love nest, where Freddy Huffman filled us in on forgotten pasts of people and events we once knew well, such as the mighty, mighty, Royal conquest of the Class C state championship in a long ago time. All hail the exploits of Hampton, Leanes, Huffman, McGee et.al.

Being an old hippie and MMMP card carrier, my vote for best outfit of both evenings goes to Bonni Q. And what did she look like? If Cher, Janis Joplin, and Melanie had attended, they would have been jealous of Bonni’s wonderfully cool outfits. The pants she wore on Saturday were stunningly chic. Again, if anyone reading this has photos, please e-mail them to rlt@umich.edu.

Contrast this look with the sizeable contingent of fellows wearing quilted long underwear shirts under flannels, over Carhartt jeans, and topped with caps bearing witty slogans like “Deer Tremble at My Name,” and “Fearless Trout Killers.” Suffice it to say there was a diversity of patrons, all of whom made a valuable contribution to our cause.

Before offering a musical review of the proceedings, I must extend profound thanks to Rodney Johnson of Gwinn, without his sound expertise and commitment to the bands’ needs we couldn’t have pulled this off.

Although I play in Chemojunkie and FUFAR, I’ll try to be objective.

FRIDAY NIGHT

The night started with Chemojunkie, Kim French, Don Kuhli, and myself. Dave Cavender (trumpet/harmonica) and Andy Adamson (keyboards/vox) also chimed in at various times. We started with a more acoustic, mellow sound, and moved into “Yellow Dog Stretch” mode over the course of an hour. I thought Kuhli’s drum work with the brushes was exemplary, and key to fattening up the sound when we played as a trio. Andy’s participation on Sonny Boy Williamson’s  “One Way Out,” ala the Allman Bros. Band version, made the song happen. I’ll mention Sonny Boy again.

Following that, Michael Stadler took the outdoor stage and offered a lesson in why playing the acoustic is the ultimate expression of a guitarist’s abilities. Over the weekend, Stadts did a way cool version of Dylan’s, “Oxford Town,” a Twainish gender-bending novelty song (someone else’s), and some fiddle and claw-hammer banjo playing that was as exquisite in sound as it was astonishing in execution.

Then came the Derrell Syria Project. They rocked the house. The next time you see Derrell, play close attention to what his fingers seem to be doing, and what comes out of his amp. His fingers belie the amazing sounds that fill the room. Given that Darrell is most famous for his band, “Congo Se Menne,” it shouldn’t have been surprising that a Finnish reggae influence was an integral part of their set. The crowd went nuts when they broke into the Monkees,’ “I’m a Believer,” which was actually written by Neil Diamond, but that’s a quibble.  Dave Ziegner is a great player. French and I both marvel whenever we see him. He’s like a combination of Jaco and Les Cleypool. What makes him unique is his ability to play with complexity while never getting in the way of Derrell’s singing and playing. Wow! Paul Neumann’s drumming was solid, tasteful, and the perfect complement to Gary Parkkonen’s most excellent keyboard playing. At the end of the set I noticed Vie Dagenais, thinking he was that Paul Newman, chasing Neumann around for his autograph.

Given the Friday night conditions, outside, late, cold, and rainy, FUBAR was okay (see Saturday night).

After that, there were no jams, and we closed the bar with a modest vigor, knowing we had to save ourselves for Saturday night.

SATURDAY NIGHT

The Flat Broke Blues Band took the rear stage at 7.  Lorrie Hayes came out in a black, sleeveless body suit and led her boys through a long set highlighted by some scorching guitar leads by Mike Letts and Walt Lindala. Lorrie’s harmonica playing lends the perfect complement to a band of players deeply committed to the blues tradition. Mr. Lindala, in fact, is one of the principals in the Marquette Blues Society, and instrumental in organizing the annual Marquette Blues Festival. Mr. Letts, who has a long pedigree on the Marquette music scene, let loose with some Buddy Guy licks that taught me a lesson on what exactly the hell Buddy does when he’s playing that stuff. At the center of this wondrous ensemble work is the soul-drenched voice of Lorrie, the local blues diva par excellence on a star-studded weekend. Okay, the “star-studded” weekend description is a bit over the top, but so what. Mark Johnson’s work on the Fender Jazz, in concert with the rock-solid, and seemingly effortless, drumming of Jim Cohen made the FBBB a definite highlight of the event.

Next came FUBAR’s Saturday night set. This was the best I had heard FUBAR sound in a long time. Playing inside gave us the chance to play some more acoustic oriented stuff before launching into our electric shtick. We only played three originals. Here’s the cover list. After starting with the Rolling Stones’ “Prodigal Son,” we performed tunes by, The Byrds (Girl With No Name), Barbara Lewis (Hello Stranger), Procol Harum (Power Failure), The Foundations (Build Me Up Buttercup) The Kinks (Dead End Street), Carla Thomas (B-A-B-Y), Dylan (Pledging My Time), The Cardinals (The Door is Still Open), Eddie Floyd (On a Saturday Night), Parliament (I Just Wanna Testify), and Sly & the Family Stone (Sing a Simple Song). After we finished, and since then, people have been telling me how impressed they were with Sophia Hanifi’s singing. What I hear in Sophia’s voice is an authenticity that comes from a commitment to developing her own style, rather than trying to adapt to the stylings of other successful vocalists. Nowhere is this more evident than on her renditions of “Buttercup” and “The Door is Still Open.” Seeing myself as a part of a dynamite rhythm section in FUBAR, I would only say that Oni Werth’s bass playing and Jim Carey’s drumming are so impressive to me as to be indescribable. I love these guys. If you must know more about them/us, google Sonic Bids, or www.meetthecrab.blogspot.com. As I said, I was extremely proud of how we acquitted ourselves in front of what I consider to be a hometown audience.

Michael Stadler again showed his mastery of the folk/bluegrass genre. What I haven’t said enough about is the power of his voice. Consider his emotional, gut-wrenching rendition of Roosevelt Sykes, “Driving Wheel.” (FYI: I recall seeing Roosevelt Sykes, aka the “Honeydripper,” at the Ann Arbor Blues Festival in 1972) I know Michael first heard this by the Paul Butterfield Band, but his version blows Butterfield out of the water.

Nearing the 11 o’clock hour Fast Eddie’s Blues Band took the stage. These boys set the bar way high. Blistering, scorching, thundering – adjectives fail me here, friends. Eddie has a great voice, it cuts and he means it. I guess he took my workshop allusion to heart, because his version of Sonny Boy’s “Fattening Frogs For Snakes” knocked me over. The fast boogie, the shuffle, the jump-swing, Eddie covered all of the conventions. Along with Kuhli, French, and Andy Adamson backing him (Warny Macdonald also took a turn at the drums), he brought in Mr. Samsey, aka “Crab,” on the guitar. Once when I was homeless, thanks to Crab’s kindness, he allowed me to take up residence with him in the “Left Bank” of Hunt Hall. Everyone I’ve talked to since, both local and from down below, was buzzing about Eddie’s set. Again, WOW!

You can imagine my consternation, knowing that Chemojunkie had to follow Fast Eddie’s over the top blues assault. There was no avoiding it. We took the stage. Given that Eddie had left the crowd in such a musical frenzy, what with his shaman-like primal cadences and shape-shifting antics, I quickly made the executive decision that an electric, and not acoustic, strategy was needed. But rather than try to follow Eddie’s relentless, evil hip-shakin’, I pulled a reverse and launched into a solitary and plaintive Magic Sam blues lament, “Every Night and Every Day.” It worked. We soon had the crowd eating out of our hand like a Presque Isle deer on psychedelic carrots. Since no surf music had yet to be been played, we followed up the slow blues with a frenetically mind blowing version of “Yellow Dog Stretch” that quoted the Beatles, Nirvana, Edvard Grieg, Miles, and Ravel’s “Bolero” in taking the crowd to a new level of ecstasy. We then did a sensitive version of Etten and Mckelvy’s “Delighted,” before shrewdly co-opting Fast Eddie’s, The Flat Broke Blues Band’s, and FUBAR’s success by inviting Eddie, Crab, Adamson, Cavender, and Lindala to the stage. From there we blew it out with a hard driving shuffle on which Lindala soared; a soulfully rock driven version of Bobby Womack’s “It’s All Over Now;” and a rousing finale of  Walrus’s, I should say Moby Grape’s, “Murder in My Heart for the Judge;” which had the whole place dancing wildly.

Last, but not least, our intrepid master of ceremonies, the inimitable Mr. Bill DeBroux, ensured that a seamless narration regarding, donors, contributors, personnel, and scheduling, tied the whole thing together. Bill also brought along a McGOOSTOCK tee-shirt that will forever mark the event.

When I left the bar at 3:45 AM, the door was open, jukebox blaring, and there was no sign whatsoever that last call might even be vaguely approaching.

Love - Randy