Club Helsinki Hudson

When I decided, a bit reluctantly, to move to Great Barrington, Club Helsinki was one of the things that made it seem like life was going to be OK. In a pastoral county full of Gilded Age country manors and lots of people who want to get away from everything hectic, urban and modern, Helsinki offered some grit, some edge. They presented a constant stream of the best musicians from around the country and weren't afraid to push buttons with burlesque or punk music. And people really loved to hear music in that tiny room. I played a great show there in June to a full house during a dramatic thunderstorm with rain pounding the skylight. Needless to say, when the club announced it would close at the end of August, I was distraught. It felt like there was no place left in the Berkshires that wasn't quaint. And quaint can really wear you out.

Last week I visited the soon-to-open incarnation of Club Helsinki in Hudson, NY and even though it's a 45 minute drive, I'm really excited to frequent the new location. Deborah and Marc (with lots of help from local artisans and a new business partner) have undertaken a huge 4-year renovation on a giant warehouse in downtown Hudson. While the space is much bigger and more beautiful than the original club in GB, the intimacy and quirkiness that defined Helsinki has been carried over in the reclaimed wood interiors, salvaged lighting fixtures, and vintage booths. (Correction. The booths are handmade, too!) Meanwhile, the sound system, lighting, and artist areas are  all updated. There is ample office room, kitchen space, a recording studio, and dynamic event space and giant windows lighting up the cafe. With all these physical improvements, the variety of artists that the club will be able to present is greatly multiplied. They have already started planning classical chamber concerts and a circus. I can't wait to see what other art, be it beautifully sublime or scarily sexy, thrives there.

I miss Europe and my girls!

My friends know how to hit the town

Just got home from 9 days on the road and it's great to be cooking and doing laundry and running around my cute little town (in 54 degree weather)! But the trip was great. Living in a rural area makes touring even more fun than it was before because I get to see friends and hustle and bustle and restaurants and what's happening out there in the rest of the world. So inspiring.

When I was heading South, my friend Sarah sent me a text saying "If you can get here by 1:30, come to the Atlanta Hawks game with us." I'm not a real basketball fan, but she has great seats and I'm not turning down any event where there are crowds. I miss people around me! So we cheered and Sarah pointed out the celebs in the arena. The Hawks lost, but I feel like I know a little bit more about America and that's a good thing.

When I got to Nashville a couple of days later, my friend Emilee who has an "in" at the historic bluegrass club, The Station Inn, talked us in to the sold-out Infamous Stringdusters show. Their special guest that night was Dierks Bentley, a major label country singer with cred in the traditional commnunity. He sings "17 Cents" on the new 'Dusters album and they played that song plus 2 standards and a couple bluegrass arrangements of Bentley songs. They are great musicians all around and the whole set was really loose and everyone - on stage and in the crowd - looked like they were having a great time.

Now I'm home and that mostly means staying home. The only place I'll likely become the Foursquare mayor of is my local post office. That's OK. I gotta save up energy for my next trip.

Falcon Ridge 2009

It's a week after Falcon Ridge and life is almost back to my normal routine, if I even have such a thing. But in sitting down to write this blog, looking back at my notes and pics and tweets, I'm so happy remembering what a great time I had. Ahhh. Reminisce with me for a few minutes...

How could I not mention the mud? Unfortunately, it keeps raining in the Berkshires and the weekend of FRFF was no exception. I'm lucky enough to live only about 25 minutes from the festival site, so I got to get a warm shower and dry bed every night, but it was still a bummer to see the rain drive people into their tents and cars when great acts were playing and a few even had to be cancelled or rescheduled. Of course, mud boots were all the rage for women and men. Mom came to the fest with me and she tried to go without rubber boots, but by day two was heading to Agway for a pair.

I was doubly lucky because it never rained during any of my sets. It was beautifully sunny and breezy on Saturday afternoon when I was on the main stage for the Most Wanted Song Swap. So breezy, in fact, that my hair kept blowing into my mouth. It was annoying and I kept wondering why none of the other four women on stage seemed to be having unruly hair issues. Headband, bangs, barrettes and hat, that's why. Lesson learned and no more wild hair in the mouth for outdoor shows.

The next day was forecasted to be stormy, so I was nervous about my sets being cancelled. Thick clouds and a cold wind were blowing when I started a song swap with John Flynn, Ellis Paul, Tracy Grammar, Joe Henry, and Lucy Wainright Roche (hello!), but we played anyway. It got around to the last song of the hour and I played "My Miner" with everyone jamming along. It was a musically transcendent moment for me with the volume and intensity rising as I sang "Let me be your light, Let me be your light" over and over. And then the clouds broke and the first bright sunlight of the day shone down on us, just like we were calling for it. I don't know if that moment was as sublime to anyone else, but I think it might have been my favorite moment of performance so far in my life. Ahhh. Maybe there is a video. Maybe I don't want to see it, I just want to remember it with all it's fuzzy edges in my mind.

Festivals are so great for seeing lots of friends, hearing bands live that you've only heard about, and unfortunately they are also great for running into people who you should know, but can't remember their name. Oi! I am terrible at remembering people and I realize that I don't even try. It's a bad habit. And I met so many awesome new people this weekend, who I've probably already forgotten. It doesn't make up for it, but I don't expect people to remember me either. I like being at festivals and conferences where most people are wearing name tags. Name tags are great, especially when they also say where you work and what city you live in. If only we could figure out a way to make them remind us of when we met and who we know in common. I think I was the only one wearing a name tag at my five-year high school reunion. Everyone scoffed at the thought that we could forget each other after only 5 years, but I knew I had forgotten people's names and I was trying to start a trend. Never was much of a trendsetter in high school. Well, there was that wrap skirt pattern and the knitting club, but other than that....

OK. One more happy story. Last year, lots of folks were really disappointed that the tornado that hit the fest prevented Gandolf Murphy and the Slambovian Circus of Dreams from performing. I've been hearing about them for a couple of years from every direction, so I was excited to hear them for myself. I have to say, they didn't blow me away. I think they are a really fun rock band, and the way they get their fans lathered into a frenzy makes for an exhilarating concert, but I guess it's just not my thing. Still, even I was getting really nervous as they took the stage on Saturday evening and the clouds were moving in. It would be too sad if their set was rained out again, leaving the fans wet and hungry for their music. They made it through a great, high-energy batch of songs and came to the encore as the sky was getting darker and more ominous. The lead singer shouted, "Get out your umbrellas, cause we're gonna play another song!" As they rocked out "Trans-Slambovian Bi-Polar Express" a parade of umbrellas formed all rainbow and flowered and polka-dotted, spinning and bouncing and snaking through the crowd. I had to join in. And it didn't rain one drop.

Here's a video of them playing the song a couple nights earlier in the dance tent:


OK. I've written too much already. But I also got dizzy spinning in a contra-dance while Blue Moose and The Unbuttoned Zippers played. And don't miss Dressing Room Tour, Part 3 with special guest Randall Williams, OK. That's enough. It was so fun! Can't wait for my next festival.... Move the Muse in Brockton Mass August 22!

Summer Hibernation?

Many musicians tour all summer and stay home in the winter writing and recording and storing up energy for the next busy Summer, but Summer is when I want to be home. When my garden is growing and producing flowers and food. When I want to cook dinner on the grill and have friends over for the evening or the weekend. When the sun comes up early and stays up til 9pm, so I don't mind sitting in my bright office working at 8am with coffee or 6pm with a Mojito. Summer is when the Berkshires are full of activity and people and events, so I can pedal my bike to the Guthrie Center and hear some folk music or take a picnic to Jacob's Pillow for a dance performance. This is when I get inspired to sit on the porch and practice my banjo or open all the windows and play beginner piano for all the neighborhood to hear. Summer is when I want to spread out an old blanket on the grass (well, clover) in the backyard and read a book. And if I fall asleep and don't wake up until Mr. Ding-a-ling comes by with his truck full of frozen treats, not to worry. That's what summer is for. Any given week in July, 20% of the country on is vacation anyway, so you usually get a break if you don't respond to email right away.

When I complain about winter, the dark, the cold, the stillness, most people tell me to embrace it. They say I should take the opportunity to rest, plan for the warm seasons, write music, read, take up skiing, knit, sleep. And that does sound really nice. I like all those things. But there is something chemical that happens to me, to lots of people, and it just feels sad to stay home. And I start to get a little crazy. I want to go the bed early, like at 7pm. And if I'm not in bed then, I might be whining and crying and generally freaking out. And most of the world is still out there working, so it doesn't really do to completely shut down for 4 months.

Years ago, when I was waiting tables in Maine, I learned that if I kept busy during those early evening hours, life was a lot better. I'd go to work around 4, just as the sun was setting and run around serving mussels and pinot noir until about 10. Before I had a chance to look up, I'd made it through the difficult part of the day and it actually was time to go to bed.

It's really unusual for me to have a whole month of no shows, but I'm right in the middle of that. It is kind of unsettling, I tend to forget who I am and what I do when I'm not performing for so long, but I am enjoying a gorgeous summer. And more importantly, I have the time to completely fill up my Fall and Winter calendar. I want as few off nights as possible in those cold dark months. I want to take trips to Florida, Texas and California and thumb my nose at Winter.

Seasons are nice. I like natural rhythms and all that. It's been such fun watching my garden grow and change, but I just can't do the winter hibernation thing. I'm a disaster in the dark and cold. I've got to keep moving, keep myself under those artificial stage lights, and trick my body into thinking it's the growing season. And then if I need to rest, I'll invest in a hammock for next summer.

Off to search for a list of winter festivals in the South.... I think I'll just do that with a Push-Up.

Lucky Friday the 13th

My trip to Nashville wound down last Thursay with a great songwriting session with Eamon McLoughlin and then listening to inspiring sets by Sarah Siskind and Will Kimbrough at 3rd and Lindsley. Whew! That was a typical day, very busy and productive and creative and fun. I was just absorbing music all night and then spitting it out all day. Awesome.


I headed out of town toward Georgia without really looking at the map, but I found the venue and got there right on time after a gorgeous windy mountain drive to the Crimson Moon in Dahlonega. Maybe it was the beer I drank on an empty stomach, or the sleepy vacation vibe of that old gold-mine town, but I was in a great mood. The show was an in-the-round with Reed Waddell, who reminded me of Jason Mraz, and David Berkeley who is a little Nick Drake-esque. They were both excellent songwriters and performers and though our styles were very different, the audience really responded enthusiastically to every song and I just loved being on stage with them. We all chatted at the bar and talked about life and it was just really nice to carry over that friendly, we’re-all-in-this-together feeling from my time in Nashville. Here is a pic of all of our matching tuners daisy chained together on one power cord. Awwww, how sweet!

I have been laying low in Atlanta for the past two days. I really needed some alone, quiet, sober time to recharge from Nashville and get ready to dive into SXSW. Here we go again! My schedule is here.

Try this at home

I had such a great time playing with the band last night at my official Austin CD release party. So many friendly faces, new and familiar. Such great sound and service from the Cactus Cafe. And the "Song-Inspired Cocktails" were a big hit. If you couldn't be there, mix up "The Easy Way" or one of my other concoctions, put on the CD and pretend...

Art vs. Entertainment vs. Politics

If you read my previous post, you know I was pretty high last week about Obama's nomination. Aside from the political aspect, it was a huge cultural event, even bigger than Ferraro, I'd say, because millions of people voted for him. So, in the spirit of the evening, at my performance, I decided to introduce my song "Sorry" this way.

"It's been an exciting election year and I'm really hoping Barack Obama doesn't break my heart. (A few cheers) Here's a song I wrote for all the politicians who have broken my heart." And played my song.

When I was counting up my tips at the end of the night, I found this in the jar.



If you can't read the small print, it says. "Keep your polotics out of your act. It cost you Tonight."

At first I felt shocked and kind of vulnerable. Someone didn't like what I did, and didn't pay me because of it. I got Dixie Chicked! But then I really started to think about what they were trying to say, what they saw, and what I'm trying to do with my "act." Did it really cost me all that much?

I think this gets to the heart of the old Art vs. Entertainment argument. If it's a certain musical performance, what's the main reason for it to exist? I think that Entertainment is primarily focused on making money. To do that, you try to make people happy and give them what they want. Of course, there can be amazing artistry in entertainment. Entertainers can take risks and push boundaries and have precise technical skill. But If people stop buying tickets, the act changes.

Pure Art, at the other end of the spectrum, doesn't care what the audience thinks. An artist has something to say that must be said whether it is popular or not. An artist doesn't create or perform for the money, but because she just has to express her vision. Maybe it's fun or popular, but if it stops attracting an audience, it keeps being made, maybe in obscurity.

I think most musicians find themselves somewhere in the middle of the two. We write songs, but join a cover band to pay the bills, or take gigs in restaurants, like I did that night. I want to express my own truth, but I also want to be liked, and to fit in, so I'm always picking which songs seem suited to each crowd and situation. And sometimes my whole mission with a song or a show is to make people feel good and have fun, just because.

But maybe I was trying too hard to please. Because Mr. Dollar Bill thought I was an entertainer. He thought that his withholding the other $4 he would have tipped me was enough to make me change my "act." Maybe he was just giving some friendly advice or maybe he wanted to assert some power, but either way, it didn't work. I'm so willing to pay that $4 or $19 or however much being myself has cost me over the years. I want to decide where I fall on the spectrum between art and entertainment. And no audience member, no threat, no amount of money is worth giving up my power to choose how I want to express myself.

And one more thing on politics and music. They go together, whether you know it or like it or not. But what I have loved about Nashville, is that while it can be a passionate and divided political landscape (read Chris Willman's Rednecks and Bluenecks), a good song trumps all political differences. When a song has the potential to touch people and make a lot of money, nobody cares which candidate the writer voted for, which is probably different from the one the artist voted for. That song has to get out. And so many of those songs are about universal feelings and situations. Which is probably why Brooks and Dunn performed at the 2004 Republican Convention, while their song "Only In America" played after Obama's acceptance speech. It's an idea bigger than either party.

I want to keep making art and entertaining people and I know that some of my songs will be more successful than others. I also want to keep listening to music by all sorts of people and finding truth in it. I think that's where I find common ground with people who are different from me. Mr. Dollar Bill, did you really not want to know me at all? Did you really just want to eat dinner and hear music that didn't open your world in any way? Did I really have nothing to offer? I hope you were just having a bad night.

Homebody

Today was glorious. I don't mean the weather, because I only barely left the house. I mean the staying home all day, cleaning my apartment from bow to stern, eating from the fridge, and listening to my record player. I wanted to make this place as clean, organized, and calm as I can for the little time I'm here. I even put my suitcase way in the back of my closet, like I'm not going to need it in a week. But I'm not thinking about leaving again. I'm enjoying all the things I'll miss when I'm gone. And now that my domicile is in order, I can focus on getting work done and enjoying my friends and going out to hear some good music.


It was actually quite a full and inspiring weekend. I played Trivia with  Rebecca Havemeyer and Little Stolen Moments, ate smoked meat while singing along to Susan Gibson and The Ginn Sisters, and was so happy with the way Firecracker Festival came off. BettySoo, Melissa Greener, Jess Klein and The Ginn Sisters were all amazing and the crowd was so appreciative as always at the Cactus Cafe. Yay! I have to admit that I was worried about the turnout, since I didn't have time to do as much publicity this year, but you came, you listened, you cheered! Austin rocks. I'm gonna soak it up while I can.

Set Lists

I wish I had time to write more, but I’m very busy today. I’ve got to make my most upbeat, funky set list ever for the gig tonight. I’m playing at the club where the Rebirth Brass Band plays every Tuesday. How do I get into these situations?!

Here's another kind of set list I've been working on: The song order for the CD!

1. Another State Line

2. The Easy Way

3. How It All Started

4. My Miner

5. Let The Lover Be

6. Flying

7. Beware

8. Just Let Me Go

9. Get It And Go

10. Sorry

11. Born Again

12. The Last Waltz

Can't wait to get it to you!

Model Week

After SXSW, it was so nice to have a “regular” week. For me that meant working 3 different day jobs, hosting open mic, running to meetings and lunches, and playing two gigs. But there were also hours when I got to be at home and follow my own schedule. Ahhhh.

I had big fun playing at Poor David’s Pub in Dallas on Saturday. Even though the club has only been in that location for a couple of years, it already feels full of history and good juju. You a sense that the audience is super comfortable, but also has a reverence for music that keeps them open and listening. So cool and so rare. Yay!

Today I had to play model. I don’t know if that’s really what I was doing, but I felt like I was some kind of modeling school drop-out, who suddenly had to pose for Vogue. OK, maybe the stakes weren’t that high, it was just the photo shoot for my album cover. But I just get so self-conscious in front of the camera; all I can think to do is smile. Sometimes I wish I was back at 14 and taking pictures for the Seventeen cover model contest. I used to really get into it, I loved posing and thought I was going all the way. Oh, teen-age dreams!

I’m sure you’ll see all sorts of pics from today eventually, but check out the photographer, Todd Wolfson. He's got a super website. We took some photos outside Rabbit’s bar on E. 6th 

street where there is a great wall of peeling paint. Rabbit and some of his friends were hanging out

 watching and I was kind of scared that they would be annoyed or mad at us artsy posers. But at the end of the shoot, Rabbit came up to me and said, “If I give you a T-shirt from my bar, will you wear it?” Heck yeah! And I’ll even go back for a beer.