Until the Songs are Done

I took the A6 - also known as the motorway to the sun -to a yard show.

Since it's Virginia wine month, I began the evening at Pasture for a glass of Cardinal Point Winery A6, the lovely Viognier/Chardonnay blend named after the road in France that links Paris to Lyon, a fact I know only because I poured for Cardinal Point at the Virginia Wine Expo two years in a row.

The restaurant was busy with some people even eating outside on the patio, a treat not to be missed on an October evening.

While I thought the rest of my evening would be spent indoors watching two favorite musicians play, I arrived at the address given to find a crowd gathering in the yard next door.

Following the light and laughter to what was clearly going to be a yard show, I saw a familiar face sitting at the front picnic table and promptly joined the Hat, a.k.a. the man about town, on his bench.

From our perch, we were facing a mural I hadn't seen before of black, white, gray and orange, depicting a quarter moon, a tee-pee and a suitcase dangling from a rope near the top of the mural. In front of the mural were several metal frames on which strings of white and orange twinkle lights had been strung. A lit jack-o-lantern sat in front of chairs for musicians and drums. Smaller lit pumpkins sat on the picnic tables.

It was like a Fall fairyland and an ideal place for a little night time music.

Sitting next to the Hat, I said hello to the Richmanian warbler, waved to the record producer, spotted the long-haired breakout musician, smiled at the fashionable keyboard player and her reclusive husband while smelling the candle burning in the pumpkin on the table behind us (humor centered around citronella versus sinsemilla).

A couple spread out an Indian print blanket and sat down on the grass in front of us Soon a second blanket appeared, then a third and forth, all of the same Indian-type print that used to hang from windows as curtains back in the '70s. Apparently they're back.

Josh Small played first, explaining that he'd set out to write a song about something other than himself and settled on the flower world. Except that when all was said and done, the flower song was also about him.

The man is not only musical, but very funny.

When he was introducing a song about farming, he admitted that while he often wore overalls, he may never have actually been to a farm. "I've been to a couple pumpkin patches," he offered. Invoking Burt Reynolds, he did a Jerry Reed song called "Papa's Knee." One of the great things about a Josh Small set is how eclectic they are.

It had been eons since I'd seen David Shultz play out but, in fairness, he and his wife did have triplets so the man's been understandably busy. He began by thanking Matt, the evening's organizer, saying, "The yard couldn't look more cozy."

While the staff from Lamplighter Coffee across the street dragged trashcans along the sidewalk and traffic from the downtown expressway rumbled by, David played guitar and sang lyrics like, "Would it be so bad to dance until the song is done?"

My answer? Never.

Singing "I can't, can't get away from you," the Hat leaned over and observed, "That's a double negative, you know." I did.

David brought up drummer Willis, who'd arrived straight from a volleyball game (he is kind of tall), and they did "The Farmer," Willis' deft touch on drums and percussion adding a lot to the song and then added in Curtis on pedal steel (which was also draped in twinkle lights) and Jonathan on accordion for Blaze Foley's "Clay Pigeons."

Curtis and David joked back and forth about the limited rehearsing they'd done for this show. When David introduced "Down the Road," Curtis said, "That's the one we jammed on for 16 seconds and then talked about the chords?"

"That's why David Shultz and the Skyline aren't a band anymore," David patiently explained."Because what I really want to do is go to your house and drink wine and talk about music."

Favorite lyric: The best laid plans are the ones that don't require a second thought.

We got a real treat when David and Jonathan brought up the very talented Grant to play mandolin so they could play some Ophelia songs such as "Hunter's Bow." Along with drummer Willis, that quartet had made some outstanding music as Ophelia a few years back.

"It's a sneak attack Ophelia reunion!" someone said. Lucky us.

They did "Easy Prey" but it was the aching of "One Too Many" ("One too many nights together or one too many nights apart") that knocked the crowd off its feet, sounding just as remarkable as it did when they first played it.

David and Grant did "Oklahoma Rose," a song they wrote together and a reminder how well those two harmonize, much like on "Days Go By," a song recorded by Grant's River City Band.

Jonathan's songs never fail to tug at the heart ("I'm on my way to being on my own") and it didn't hurt having Curtis' mournful pedal steel further ripping our hearts out.

They closed the show with "The Butcher" ("I got a quarter of a quart of wine") and sitting there listening to those familiar voices singing to the sky was a reminder of just how wonderful Richmond can be sometimes.

Sort of a musical motorway to the moon on a Fall night.

Paying WRIR Forward

I went to the benefit music show at the Firehouse Theater tonight solely to support WRIR.

That's a lie. I went because WRIR DJ Shannon Cleary had curated a show of four of Richmond's finest bands, including one band's final performance. Contributing five bucks to my favorite indie radio station was just icing on the cake.

The show was late starting, as is unfortunately the norm here (the Listening Room and the Silent Music Revival being notable and appreciated exceptions), but I had good company in the form of the hatted man-about-town, two favorite couples, my usual seatmate when rating musicians on cuteness and Mr. Dulcitar. I even made a couple date.

Starting things off by kicking ass and taking names was Nick Coward and the Last Battle, a band that has grown by leaps and bounds over the past two years. With six talented members including brass and cello, this multi-instrumentalist sextet tore it up, especially with the material from their outstanding latest CD.

In the most wonderful kind of tribute to another local band, they covered Zac Hyrciak and the Junglebeat's "We are One" beautifully and unexpectedly.I was sorry to see them leave the stage.

Next up was Ophelia, aka Jonathan Vassar and David Schultz, tonight anyway. With their dark, melodic songs, Jonathan played guitar, harmonica and accordion while David played the guitar he'd been given as a high school graduation present (his former guitar having exploded recently).

He said he was really liking how the old guitar was sounding after being pulled out of disuse for so long. They pulled Josh Small onstage to play guitar and sing with them for the last two songs, placing Jonathan in the center standing position ("I'm in the awkward back-up singer position," he joked).

From sidekick to center stage, Josh Small played next, boisterously working his metal resonator guitar and stomping his foot. He covered Emmylou Harris and sang a song he'd written for his niece, "Patricia Noel."

Another interesting song he wrote, he said. was ripped off from a Maxwell song he admired ("shuffle beat and false ending"). He self-deprecatingly acknowledged the source material that inspired him in his songwriting again and again.

Tonight's finale was being billed as the Orioles' last show because Nick Woods (who is Orioles whether he plays alone or with four other people, like tonight) is moving to Nashville (at least he's not making the cliched move to Brooklyn, only to return).

Midway through their set, someone called out, "Don't move!" and he laughed. "Yea, that's what you and all the other people in Richmond who I owe money to say, but you can't fool me." He did say he may play a few solo shows before heading out.

Their set was a treat since I'd never heard him with a full band. Josh Hryciak (he of the amazing voice in Mermaid Skeletons) was playing drums, something I'd never seen before. He took the time to thank Nick Coward for covering his brother's song (and also reminded Nick Woods that it was almost Mother's Day, so to get on with the set).

Nick sang songs about being a flower delivery man, about canopies and, of course, failed relationships. When the show ended, the audience called for an encore as the band walked offstage. He came back but the band didn't.

"That's all the songs we know," he explained. "I do know one other short one." He then explained that the song was about his crazy great-grandfather who had a ghost dog who told him not to drink and a ghost lady who sat on a bench and talked to him.

"My family's crazy," he admitted. The great-grandfather had had six kids, his grandmother and six boys. One of the brothers killed another of the brothers he told us, and the room went silent. "That wasn't the reaction I was expecting," he said.

Likewise, the audience wasn't expecting one last stellar song, but we got it and rewarded it with thunderous applause. Richmond's loss is Nashville's gain.

Whereas with tonight's show, WRIR gained necesary finds and the audience gained four hours of some of RVA's best music.

I may have begun with a lie, but that's the truth...at least as I see it. To each her own reality.

Music for the Missed

I had no idea that the VMFA had been showing movies to the public since 1948 when I walked into tonight's screening of Louis Malle's Pretty Baby, part of November's movie theme, "photoplay."

Interestingly enough, the film had a couple of tie-ins to the current Sally Mann exhibit. In the film, the photographer Bellocq (played by Keith Carradine) uses a camera very similar to that which Mann uses.

And when the film first came out, there were many who felt that it crossed into the arena of child pornography, much like the derision directed at Mann's early 1990s photographs of her nude children.

But the cinematography of the 1978 movie was spectacular; it came across like a sepia-toned photograph out of the era portrayed, 1917 New Orleans. Susan Sarandon was very young and beautiful (especially nude) and Brooke Shields truly looked like a 12-year old and not a 16-year old playing younger.

The images of adult life as seen through the eyes of a child was unquestionably sad, but only in an historical sort of way; yes, child prostitution is appalling, but it was commonplace in 1917. Fact.

In the post-screening discussion, audience members agreed that such a film could never be made today in this country due to political correctness. Something similar would almost have to be made by a European, just like it was in 1978.

I left the museum with images of sultry candlelit meals on screened-in porches and headed to the candlelit confines of Sprout for a very special music show.

Tonight was a tribute to the late Nathan Joyce, a talented local musician with ties to many of the musicians currently performing in Richmond. The show hadn't quite begun when I arrived, so I took a stool at the bar and ordered some cheese hushpuppies and a root beer.

As musicians and friends came in, I had plenty of people to talk to. After a bit, the bartender brought over a glass of wine and asked, "Do you drink wine?" Why, yes I do. It was a mis-pour so he randomly donated it to me.

My friend Isaac had escaped his hosting job early enough to join me at the bar, so now I had wine and great company. He was one of the musicians playing in the show tonight, but for the moment, he just wanted a lager and a blather and so he had both.

I'm ashamed to say that we talked through the first two bands before moving into the back room for Now Sleepyhead's set. These guys are a favorite of mine and haven't played a show in over a year, so tonight's set was a pretty big deal. They had new material and were in fine voice (and French horn). I only hope they plan to start playing more again.

Between sets, a horror film Nathan and a friend had made was shown and it got great laughs from the audience for its spurting blood and deadpan dialog. It was a touching way to bring Nathan into the room visually tonight.

Isaac played next, two songs solo and two songs as part of his band Double Rainbows. Best put, he/they kicked ass and took numbers. He's got such a great voice plus he's an incredibly literate songwriter; the combination had the crowd enthralled and impressed. There was a lot of buzz after their set.

Ophelia, playing as a duo, followed and I already knew what a treat we were in for because Jonathan had told me their set list at the Listening Room Tuesday night: three REM covers.

Tonight he explained to the audience that he and Nathan were both huge REM fans and that Nathan was the only other person he ever knew other than himself who knew all the words to "It's the End of the World as We Know It (and I Feel Fine)," cementing their friendship.

Jonathan and David began by saying "We need Isaac for this," and then played "Driver 8" and "Don't Go back to Rockville" before launching a crowd singalong to "End of the World." I admit it, I was singing right along (badly, but singing). That's some classic stuff right there; who doesn't have REM somewhere in their past?

Lobo Marino closed the show, appropriate because lead singer Jameson had organized the evening's tribute. They played one song that Jameson and Nathan had written together ("the hit, Animal Hands") and treated us to a new piece off their upcoming album. Their energetic set was the perfect finish to a stellar evening of music.

I tried complimenting Isaac on his amazing set before I left, but he admitted he didn't take flattery well. Nevertheless, as I stood outside Sprout talking to half of Now Sleepyhead about the show, he knocked on the window and made the heart sign on his chest.

Just a guess, but I think that meant that he liked my words. Fair enough, because I was even more impressed with his. And he can sing his, unlike me.

Hopefully Nathan heard all the music in his honor tonight because it was a hell of a show.

Walking in the Dark

It's an excellent night musically when I can start with one kind of music at 6:30 and end somewhere else with a completely different kind at 12:30.

It was the recent Folk Fest that landed me at Barrel Thief tonight for the Jason Jenkins Trio. At that mind-blowing Zakir Hussain show, I had sat next to a local drummer who had arrived as ridiculously early for the show as I had, so we'd had plenty of time to talk music, shows and audiences.

He had mentioned then that he was playing a show at Barrel Thief tonight and suggested I come by for some jazz to start my evening. I'll admit I was a little surprised when I arrived around 6:35 to find that most tables were taken and the remaining reserved. Luckily, there was a corner banquette with a low table in front of it with a great view of the band and I was ushered to it.

Taking Virginia Wine month to heart, I chose the Pollak Vineyards Meritage (a stellar blend of Cab Franc, Merlot and Petite Verdot) for my drinking pleasure throughout the evening and started with the olive tapenade, chevre and cucumber bruschetta.

Later, at my server's suggestion, I had the Chef's grilled cheese on rosemary foccacia, an interesting take on the standard, with multiple cheeses and sun-dried tomato spread. I do wish Barrel Thief had a wider menu.

My drumming friend and his cohorts were playing a variety of jazz standards to the obvious delight of the attentive audience, some of whom commented to the band between songs like old friends, or at least neighbors and frequent attendees.

During the break my drummer friend came over to get reacquainted and talk about what else we'd each seen at the Folk Fest after the tabla tour de force. He'd gotten to see Salsa Duro, the one group I'd really wanted to see and didn't, so he got to rub that in, telling me how amazing they were and why.

I left midway through the second set because I wanted to make the Wood & Steel acoustic show at Gallery 5 and I had to make a quick stop at home to exchange cute wine bistro platform shoes for standing-on-cement-for-hours shoes (boots, actually) before walking over; it was a most necessary transition.

I passed a utility repairman doggedly trying to restore power to the unlit street lights and asked him if there would be light by the time I walked home from the show; he assured me that there would be. Always good to hear.

When I arrived, Nick Woods was playing an earnest set, followed by Shannon Cleary, who sang his song about seeing Matt and Kim at the bike lot show and then seeing them Thursday night when the floor felt close to collapsing. Later we talked about the sinking feeling we shared that night about the strength of the Canal Club's flooring versus the enthusiasm of everyone's dancing.

Ophelia was next, but performing as a duo rather than a quartet. The crowd was too noisy as far as my friend and I were concerned, talking and laughing loudly over the heartfelt vocals of David and Jonathan.

My friend, who teaches at VCU, later told me that he could relate to being in front of a room full of people, many of whom were paying no attention to you. Still, it seemed a shame to drown out such beautiful harmonies.

Prabir and the Goldrush were next, doing their usual rock-your-socks-off set. When Prabir went to dedicate a song to a girl, violinist Treesa mentioned that her parents were in the audience, so the song instead went to them. Irreverently, it was followed by a song about smoking weed; no dedication necessary.

The final band was the trio Homemade Knives and they set up on the floor in front of the stage and the remaining members of the audience crowded around them, some sitting on the cold floor (not this girl) and others standing around.

Their haunting set ended with a much-slowed-down cover of Springsteen's Dancing in the Dark, because, according to lead singer Will, "covers are fun." It was an ironic comment considering that the somber and slow version they did of the up-tempo rock standard took the song to a whole new meaningful level and fun had nothing to do with it.

My friend offered to drive me home in case the street lights were still out, but I told him I was willing to go it alone. As I told him, what was going to happen, that I'd die on the streets of J-Ward on a Saturday night under a full moon?

"Worse things could happen," he grinned as he twirled his moustache, knowing I'd be just fine.

Do I have the option of being otherwise?

Drooling the Night Away

"I will be coming from the dentist and I'm not sure how I'll be. I just hope I'm not drooling," read the e-mail from the friend I was meeting for happy hour.

But she's a really good friend, so even if she had been drooling, I think we could have worked around it.

I like her enough that I'd wipe her chin dry if it came to that.

The plan was to meet up at Pescado's China Street since she'd never been to either location, despite living on the southside.

My reluctance to go south of the river is common knowledge, but actually I had been to China Street on the night it opened, here. I had held off since then to allow for the novelty to lessen a bit.

But just in case, we'd also arrived early.

Even so, the bartender and chef both said they remembered me; maybe it's sitting in that end bar stool that makes a person memorable.

Hopefully it wasn't the sheer quantity of what I ate that time.

The owner greeted me and introduced himself and my friend arrived without drool, but there was adhesive stuck to her jaw, which I had to point out (it's like broccoli in your teeth...wouldn't you want to know?).

After three hours in the dentist's chair, I was just glad she'd shown up.

We were early enough to enjoy all the great specials, so we availed ourselves of the $3 wine (Malbec or Chardonnay) and the $4 appetizers in a nearly empty blue dining room.

It gave the owner time to chat us up about what we do, where we live and his recent reviews.

I am always curious to hear what owners and chefs offer up about their opinions of critics.

The lobster quesadilla was plump and the accompanying cheese sauce flavorful, the mussels in coconut curry broth were devoured before we began drinking the broth with a spoon and the shrimp nachos used blue corn chips (my favorite) and plenty of shrimp, cheese, green onions, red peppers and even cabbage for crunch.

Friend had to switch from wine to beer though, because the acidity of the wine was hurting her mouth, but given today's heat, she didn't seem to mind too terribly much.

Or maybe she was just trying to compensate for the numbness wearing off.

We finished with the steaming-hot conch fritters because everybody likes fried bread with sauce.

By that time, the dining room was nearing capacity and we saw plenty of impressive-looking seafood being carried past us, but we were full.

After discussing the usual (her love life, the absence of mine), she wanted to know what was next.

"I know I'm only Act One, so what's after this?" she teased.

Can you guess she works in theater?

Music at Gallery 5 was next and when I described the bands, she regretted not being able to go.

And it was a great line-up, starting with Lob Marino ("Karen, it's the same set you heard at Sprout, but we're just about done with some new stuff." Promises, promises).

Every song except one had been written while they were in South America and the one written here was about last winter, undoubtedly a shock to their system upon their return.

The witty and self-deprecating Liza Kate followed, randomly telling the audience that she loves attention and that she'd ridden a horse today.

"Ever been famous?" she asked. "It's hot up here!"

Chapel Hill's Birds and Arrows was next and I was especially eager to hear them for the first time.

Tuning up and sound-checking, lead singer Andrea asked the sound guy for less reverb.

"A little less far down the well," she clarified. "Less My Morning Jacket."

As my close musical friends know, it's not about a well, it's about a cave, for crying out loud, and I love the sound of music from a cave, but apparently it's not what B & A are going for.

They launched into their latest single and mid-way through, the place went dark.

In the highlight of the evening, the band kept right on playing.

The cello, drums and acoustic guitar all still worked and the audience cheered them for not stopping.

"We're so rock and roll, we blew the power," Andrea laughed.

The next song began while the stage was still dark but electricity was restored and they went on with their set of beautiful harmonies, well-crafted songs and obvious enthusiasm for what they do.

Introducing a song about having her 11-year old dog put down this spring, Andrea warned the audience not to cry.

And I didn't cry, but there was definite welling up since the same thing had happened to me this past spring.

Or maybe I just needed an excuse to well. In any case, the song seemed to be a crowd favorite, one of many the audience responded enthusiastically to.

Finishing up the night was the stellar Ophelia and unfortunately their set was limited by the noise ordinance curfew (don't get me started), so it was shorter than the fans would have liked.

I can only hope that the next time I see them, I get much more of them.

I seem to be hoping for a lot more of several things lately.

Just not more sad dog songs; they're just gateway music to the harder stuff and who needs that?

First I well and next thing you know I'll be drooling...and have to wipe my own chin.

Just give me some reverb to do it by.

Music for a Cause

"Fuck BP," toasted Ilad's lead singer Clifton, summing up tonight's Gulf Leak Benefit at the Camel (or maybe just wanting to do a shot). The four-band bill provided a lot of entertainment for a minimum donation of five dollars, which benefited the Gulf Coast Fund and Tri-State Bird Rescue and Research.

Ophelia's stunning folk rock got things rolling. Their recent FB status, "Ophelia practiced last night. We still got it...or something like it," belies just how amazing their sound is. They've got it alright and anyone who hears it immediately recognizes that magic.

A musician friend who had never heard them before said as much to me tonight. I had come knowing I'd be bowled over again, but he'd been unprepared for the sheer amount of local talent perfectly combined in this one project. Ophelia are not to be missed.

Next up was the evening's organizer, Lydia Ooghe, with two of the four members of her band Lux Vacancy (one had a wedding and one had a fever). For many in the audience, it was their first time hearing her with backing musicians, although I've been lucky enough to hear the group in total already.

As impressive as Lydia's voice and songwriting skills are solo, the music is taken to another level with other musicians rounding out her sound. One friend said even her voice sounded bigger. Tonight she had bass and drums behind her guitar and singing and the crowd was clearly enthralled with the trio. I suppose they'd have been over the moon with the full band in attendance.

After what felt like an endless break between sets, Ilad took the stage and played the best set I'd ever heard them play in several years of being their fan. Most of the songs are off the upcoming album and featured multiple vocalists, an interesting change for them.

My musician friend tried to define their sound by saying that they were 60s psychedelic-influenced but didn't actually sound like 60s or psychedelic music. It's as apt a description as any for their unique sound. Interesting tangents in the music brought to mind prog-rock or even jazz influences, not unlikely given some of the band members' jazz roots.

Caulit Anything was just taking the stage when I headed out. Their loyal fans had been noisily awaiting their set for some time before it actually happened.

Leaving the Camel and crossing Broad Street, a guy stuck his face out of the car window and made a big smooching sound at me. His mother would be so proud.

About as proud as BP should be.

Like Cookouts. Love Music.

I didn't get invited to a cookout tonight, so I went to the Camel instead to hear music.

It worked out well because there were 100 other people who didn't get invited anywhere either and it made for an enthusiastic Sunday night audience.

Or perhaps it was the fact that a lot of people didn't have to work tomorrow; actually the reason matters not.

People were into it.

My farmer friend appeared, freshly showered and ravenous after a day working the land.

He squeezed into the booth I was sharing with Treesa, the violin-playing part of Prabir's Goldrush, her visiting mother and a woman who coincidentally had replaced me at a former editing job six years ago. Just another random booth in Richmond.

The show began with Lexi and Kate, sisters who harmonized in that beautiful way only kinfolk can.

One nearby guy made the astute comment that, "I love skinny girls with guitars" and another said, "We need more clean hippie chicks."

Once they began singing, though, no one mentioned anything but their voices, but the night was already shaping up to be an interesting one.

Prabir and the Goldrush played their usual energetic set with only a few mixing missteps.

Before their cover of "Eleanor Rigby." Prabir specifically said that he wanted the strings brought way up, but they ended up lost in the mix; too bad because the violin and upright bass playing on that song were rocking.

"Bohemian Rhapsody" again closed the set but the crowd was not of the singalong type tonight so it played as a hard-driving instrumental for much of it.

About this time, another friend came over to ask us if we knew that Amazing Ghost was playing the Republic tonight.

"That's why half the crowd just emptied out," the farmer explained.

I am most definitely a fan of Amazing Ghost and most definitely not a fan of the Republic, so it was never an issue for me.

Besides, as someone pointed out, "Amazing Ghost will be around, but these guys are great and they may not."

Ophelia, a recent collaboration between Jonathan Vassar (he of the Speckled Bird) and David Schultz (of the Skyline) boasts the drummer from Thao and the Get Down Stay Down (and Diamond Center) as well as the bass player from the amazing Mermaid Skeletons.

They've already recorded a CD, due out late this summer, although tonight was only their second show live.

And it was every kind of impressive.

When you start with two great voices like Vassar and Schultz, add in some alt-country hooks, a melancholy accordion, harmonica, kick-ass drumming and a strong bass line, you get a sound that speaks to just about everyone in the room in one way or another.

Or at the very least, it speaks to the kind of people who don't get invited to barbecues on Memorial Day weekend.