Live: Ana Egge at the Bassment, in Saskatoon, June 7, 2013

Text, photos and video © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2013
Images can be enlarged by clicking on them
www.anaegge.com

Social critic Neil; Postman once stated that when you look at an analog clock, you can see your whole life. When one listens to singer-songwriter Ana Egge, the line of time does not stop there, for one can see a longer expanse than one has lived.

Egge is, you see, a throwback to the days of storytellers that have that timeless, ethereal Americana sound that hovers somewhere between the English tradition, an Appalachian céilidh, the Blues, and the revisited style that made up the soundtrack of O Brother, Where Art Thou? I imagine an updated Lilith Fair-type concert series with reflective artists such as Lucinda Williams (with whom Egge has played), Alison Krauss and Rachel Harrington. That would be sweet.

In fact, a common descriptor of Egge’s voice is sweet, or angelic. Perhaps it is her (relatively) tall stature that helps with her aerie voice and presence, or perchance her often flashing of a smile as she sings, the subtle way she swings her hips as her eyes close in moments of the songs, usually during the instrumental parts.

Ironically, her songs, as glorious and musically soft as they are, can lean towards the dark side of life’s experiences, both of her own and more often of others. Her topics tell of prostitutes who helped as nurses during the Spanish Flu outbreak of 1918, mental illness, murder, and unstable neighborhoods.

But it is not only time that Egge transcends, it is also space. Through her life, she has been a serial mover (and hip shaker…sorry). Though born in Estevan, Saskatchewan, which is near the U.S. border, her family migrated between a farm and a commune in New Mexico and North Dakota. When she reached independence, she headed over to music city, Austin, Texas (apparently the only state she’s lived for a length of time that has a single name!) during the early ‘90s, and now resides with her wife of five years in Sunset Park, Brooklyn, New York.

This history has surely had two major contributions to her present life. First, it exposed her to an enormous amount of varied local music, from country and blues to other roots sounds. Second, it has given her the opportunity to understand touring as a lifestyle, something taken for granted by some who miss the grand opportunity to expose oneself to other local cultures (I’m sure that is, in part, why the house concert phenomenon is so strong right now).

Ana has played in Saskatoon before; four times in fact, with twice being back-up for others, and twice as headliner, both being at the Bassment, one of the better showcase spaces in the city. It was a dark and stormy night (okay, it wasn’t dark) when I showed up at the club with my pal Dave H. Luckily, we arrived early enough to get a table up front before the place filled up.

Opening the show was the local Little Criminals, the duo of lead fiddle by Amanda Bestvater and the rhythm guitar of Taylor Jade. Their beautiful harmonies, meandering lyrics, and soulful and haunting songs brought a nice way to start the evening. I look forward to seeing them again, and it doesn’t seem long before they’ll be headlining on their own.

As for Ana, her band came out first, consisting of Regina drummer and back-up vocalist Michael Thompson (who has pounded the skins for the likes of Jason Plumb and Serena Ryder) and Ohio-born/Brooklyn-based John Kengla, who alternated on electric guitar and bass (and looks a damn lot like Jimmy Fallon), both of whom are obviously talented.

Ana was in fine voice, and seemed to be enjoying her time on stage. It was pretty apparent the audience was enthusiastic. Mixing in music from her new CD, Bad Blood, she conveyed how she lucked into recording at Levon Helm’s studio in Woodstock, NY (before he passed), thanks to her friend and producer, the noted Steve Earle. She also told lots of stories about how the songs she was singing came to being (looking at old salacious crime stories in newspapers from the late 1800s, for example); her spiels were long enough to be informative, and short enough not to be cumbersome, which is a perfect combination.

While she didn’t switch instruments as often as Kengla, it was nice to see play her homemade guitar for most of the set, and switch to a mandolin (without a strap to hold it up, she self-depreciatingly joked, put played just fine) and a beautiful old resonator guitar for a couple of solo covers that bookended the intermission: “Swing Low Sweet Chariot” and a strikingly slow rendition of Leadbelly’s “Good Night Irene.”

There were a couple of other covers, such as a smoldering “To Love Somebody” by the Bee Gees that she invited the audience to sing along (which we did), and "Pineola" by Lucinda Williams, whom she knew in Austin. In fact, I was so enjoying the show, it was halfway through Ana’s first set that I realize I hadn’t written any notes. That says a lot, right there.

The rest of the tunes were originals from across her entire history, including “Fairest of Them All” from her first release, through ”Silver Heels,” “Hole in Your Halo” and “Walking With Wolves,” a contemplation of her Brooklyn neighbors, both off her latest. The last song was about her dad, “Motorcycles,” as she explained how he taught her how to ride when she was 5 years old (it’s a prairie’s thing, to begin operating vehicles at a young age).

After the show, I had the opportunity to introduce myself to Ana, and explain how we are seemly part of an exchange program: she went to Saskatchewan to Brooklyn, and I went in the other direction. She laughed easily as she towered over me, near the merch table to sign her CDs (I’m sure she sold a few, including to Dave, who also got the Little Criminals 5-song EP).

It was still raining and truly dark when we left for home, but the sun was shining on us internally for a good night spent in easy music company.

Partial Set List:
There Won’t Be Anymore

Quitting Early

Hole in Your Halo

Evil

Hands and Knees

Straight

Silver Heels

Bad Blood

Swing Low Sweet Chariot (traditional)

Good Night Irene (Leadbelly)

Chestnut Tree

Driving With No Hands

Fairest of Them All

Walking With the Wolves

To Love Somebody (Bee Gees)

Pineola (Lucinda Williams)

Birds

Motorcycles

 

James Keelaghan Trio, The Bassment, Nov 7, 2012

Text and photos © Robert Barry Francos, 2012
Video from the Internet

James Keelaghan

Every once in a while, you hear someone with a pure voice and it takes you by surprise, be it a Roy Orbison, kd lang, or James Keelaghan.

I first became aware of Calgary-native Keelaghan in the very early 1990s, while attending the Calgary Folk Festival. Initially, I was there to see the likes of Dave Alvin (ex- the Blasters), Odetta (RIP, 2008), and the underrated Proclaimers (“[I Would Walk] 500 Miles”), who put on a terrific live show. It was there that I also learned of Anne Lorre, Bob Wiseman, and Keelaghan’s amazing tenor voice. His release at the time, Small Rebellions, was an instant classic in the Canadian canon of singer-songwriters (I bought it on cassette at that show); to illustrate its strength, one song on it, “Red River Rising” (about the Métis Rebellion of 1885), was covered by no less than three other artists during the weekend. I can easily avow that there is not a filler song on the entire collection.

But that second release was early on in his now-25-year career, and I had not seen him play since. Sure, I’ve heard the recordings, and I had been waiting for him to play New York City for a number of years, but of course, he finally did after I moved to Saskatoon. It was with great joy that I saw that he was coming to one of my favorite clubs, the Bassment (yes, that is how it is spelled), where I had seen so many other great artists like Don Griffith (jazz), the Oral Fuentes Band (reggae) and Absofunkenutely (well, funk…duh). It’s a nice sized room, and yet still remains intimate. It was a perfect setting for enjoying the James Keelaghan Trio that cold night, on Wednesday, November 7, 2012.

My pal in Saskatoon, Dave Hiebert, is not only a JK fan, but sings a couple of his songs when he’s busking, usually downtown, at Flowers By Fred or at the Farmer’s Market, so who better to share the experience. We arrived early and scored some seats by the stage. A clear shot for both my eye and my camera. I decided not to use flash until the last song due to how close we were, and the nature of the show.

David Woodhead

It’s clear from the moment the trio hit the stage, they were not just fellow musicians, but compadres, from the vibe given from the performance. While JK took the lead with guitar and vocals, the other two switched off on multiple instruments. David Woodhouse was on a beautiful fretless bass, and a warm and worn acoustic guitar. Not only an accompanist, he is also a solo act (just not this night) and a studio musician / producer who has appeared on over 200 recordings since 1975, for the likes of Lorenna McKennit, Valdy, Gil Scott-Heron, and both Garnet and Stan Rogers. Oh, did I mention his sons were the foundation of Spiral Beach? On lead 10-string mandolin and bass was Hugh McMillan, more famously known as part of the classic Canadian band, Spirit of the West.

The older audience (i.e., around my age and above) was revved and hyped, and well versed in – er – Keelahania. And JK responded in kind with kindness. While there was a set list that covered his entire career, he also accepted requests that were occasionally shouted out from the audience (such as “Woodsmoke and Oranges”). While occasionally covering songs and having collaborated with some of the other top Canadian songwriters such as Rose Cousins, his own pieces play strongly with language, such as the opening lines of the sing-along-response “Hillcrest Mines”: “Down in the mines of the Crowsnest Pass / It’s the men who die in labor / Sweating coal from the womb of the pit / It’s the smell of life they savor.”



Hugh McMillan

 JK’s songs lean towards (but are not inclusive to) a reflection of life, a cultural sensitivity, a piece of historical narrative, or all of the above. Whether he’s discussing a particular bar he visited in Ireland (“McConvilles”), Canadian Japanese interment camps (“Kiri’s Piano”), waiting to take a ferry (“Departure Bay”: “The fog is rolling in / It’s gonna be a bad one / It’s as thick as soup / Gee I sure wish I had some”) or the everyday life of the working class (too many to mention), he uses his prose pen to make the point, but never to the position of getting lost in the poetic opaque. Not all these songs were played that night, but hey, I’m making a point here. And speaking of which:

This tour is to continue to promote JK’s 11th full release, 2009’s House of Cards, (available HERE), so naturally many of the songs were from there, including the title cut and as the encore, “Safe Home.” But there were also quite a few from over the course of his career during the two 50-minute sets, including “Fires of Calais,” “My Skies,” and “Hillcrest Mines”.

Between most songs, as JK tuned his guitar to a particular setting, he told the back-story to many of the songs with lightness and ease that never bogged down the time. Usually I’m not a fan of commentary between numbers because they tend to be facile, but JK was just the opposite, drawing us in and making the songs all the more poignant. Hey, even David Woodhouse got to tell what he claims is his only joke: “Why are there no banjos on Star Trek?” Well, to get the answer, you’ll have to ask him (I am not going to steal the man’s one joke!).

The story I’ve heard is that JK once worked in the construction biz, and that he’d write poetry inside ducts while the buildings were being erected, and they remain hidden until some day in the future. This gives some insight to the wit behind JK. With no disrespect meant, he looks as imposing as a man who works high steel, but there is a gentleness about him when he sings and talks that is in a joyful contradiction.

The James Keelaghan Trio are approaching the end of their tour (and just in time, too, considering the weather), as they drive east across western Canada, ending in Winnipeg, but you’d never know it from the energy level coming from the stage. They all seem as musically tight as the journeymen (journeypersons?) musicians they are, and yet made every song sound like it was as much a joy to play as it was to hear them perform it.

The only negative thing about the show for me was that there was just so much more I wanted to hear, cuts like “Somewhere Ahead” or one of my personal faves, “Misty Mountain.” What I am saying is that the nearly two hours just wasn’t enough. I was greedy and wanted more than was reasonable.

Let me sum it all up by putting it this way: you know a good time is happening when the 15-minute intermission feels longer than the two sets.
,
This blog is dedicated in thanks to JK and Joelle.

Bonus video:
(note: not from this night, nor filmed by me; that is David Woodhead playing bass behind him)

Oral Fuentes Band, Live at the Bassment, February 18, 2011

Text, photos, and video © Robert Barry Francos
Photos can be enlarged by clicking on them

When one thinks of reggae, the tendency is to imagine palm trees swaying, warm breezes blowing, and a possible hint of a green aroma in the air.* That being said…

February 18, 2011 was a cold and blustery evening, and it was also the opening night of the Bassment’s Mardi Gras Fest 2011, and the band they chose to be the lead-off was the Oral Fuentes Band. Some of us went down there to check out just the first of the two 1-hour sets, but we joyfully ended up staying for both.

The Bassment is one of the eminent jazz club of Saskatoon, unassuming from its side entranceway of the old post office building. Many great musicians play at the small club, whose stature has risen over the years. The last time there I was able to catch master pianist Don Griffith.

Oral Fuentes is probably the best known reggae musician in Saskatoon, who moved to the Saskatchewan city in the early 1990s, from his native Belize. He brought with him a rich culture of music and open-mindedness. Over the years, he has started and leads the Saskatoon Reggae and World Music Festival during the summer months, but for this show, he was there for his musicianship.

It would be completely filled, but when we got there, we grabbed a table up front, so we had a wide open view of the stage, and of the musicians, who all also play in various other groups, mostly jazz-oriented. From left to right, they were:

Originally from Ghana, percussionist Joseph Ashong was a total powerhouse, moving around the stage with his various drums, intermingling with the other musicians, and obviously having a grand time, which passed some energy to the audience. Everything about him was expressive, from his facial expressions to his bulging biceps. It was so obvious he was having fun.

On lead guitar was Randy Woods, who also fronts one of the town’s exceptional funk groups, Absofunkinlutely. A big man, he quietly stood in the back and let Oral be in full control. Randy and Oral have been playing together for years, and they both appear on each other’s albums. Randy is great at both keeping rhythm and tearing the atmosphere on his solos. While I’ve seen his group perform at the Pride Festival last year, and have enjoyed his two albums, this was the first time I had the opportunity to talk to him, albeit briefly.

Front and center is Oral, whose specialty is (according to the Bassment’s program) “reggae, soca, punta-rock, and brukdown.” They left off the most important one: fun. There are two Orals on stage housed in one body. The first is the person who gets into the music on an obviously spiritual level, flowing with the sound and singing from the heart. The other is the bandleader, who knows exactly how to work the band into a solid unit through subtle signals and signs. As this group has worked together in various forms over the years, they can “read” each other, permitting experimentation and solos without egos bashing. Oral does well in giving the others times to shine.

In a neat shirt and tie is drummer Kevin Pierce, well known in the jazz circles in town. He sets a rhythm going, and doesn’t let up. And not once did he loosen the tie, alone worth the marvel. Add the stick-work, and you have yourself a powerful juju.

Mike Kereiff plays a mean trombone, one with a South Park image on the end. He may not have killed Kenny, but his playing would do away with boredom, that’s certain. He wielded it like a sword and cut a swath through the sound.

Dave Nelson, on trumpet, was, as far as I knew, the only other Yank than me in the room. Up from Washington, he shone during his solos. After the sets, I went over and said hi from one American to another. Cool guy with a hot horn. His solos were something to wonder at in admiration.

Last is Zender Millar on electric bass. His long beard and even longer pony-tail (going well down below his belt line) belay a firm bottom that completes the rhythm section. He is a solid player, and while not moving around the stage much, his playing line gave everyone room to both move, and a rhythmic residence to for the others to come back home.

The dance floor of the Bassment was set up to the far side of stage left, and people were definitely swaying to the riddem. At some point, two of the dancers (Dave and Kirsten, an artist who works in leather hides) danced in front of the band during the last number of the first set, which was fun to watch.

By the time we went home, we were exhausted from the energy level in the room. We bundled up for the very snowy and cold evening, and hurried home, both shivering from the weather and warm from the echoes of the sounds left in our heads.

















































* Unless you’re a British punker, of course.
More photos can be found here:
http://entertainment.webshots.com/album/579825194Ogdgwa