But it wasn't just about sleeping in. It was about seeing what life might be like if I were only a performer. I probably put more time in practicing the guitar over these last two weeks than I had in the entire two months prior. I wrote a few new tunes. I spent some time and money on my home recording setup. These are the things I just never get around to during my average school week. Some of that may change without the impending threat of grad school hovering over my every time related decisions, but I also know myself better than to believe I will devote all of that new-found time to being a better musician - but who knows? Y'see: I am not one for outwardly making New Year's Resolutions, I think I did make some significant decisions about life over Winter Break.
I think it was Adam Levy's doing...
I had known his name for a few years. In addition to seeing it in the credits to Norah Jones albums (as a guitarist and songwriter) and on posters up on the walls as Banjo Jim's, my wife was actually in Marie Ponsot's poetry workshop with him last year. I also knew that he was one of those guys Russ always talks about. Now: you need to understand something about my friend Russ. In addition to being a killer keyboard player and great composer, Russ is one of those cats that knows about the "guys behind the guys" - or "the guys that so-and-so listen to when they're not busy being so-and-so". You know: those musicians (and I am guessing that this goes for all other art forms) who aren't quite famous enough for your square sister-in-law to have heard of them, yet still has an unbelievably strong rep. amongst hip (not to be confused with hipSTER, they never know of these types) musicians and the like. Anyway: I know that last year when I would pull off a particularly tasty guitar fill (with a bit of tight delay), Russ would compliment me for doing some of "that Adam Levy shit". Yeah. Adam Levy is that guy.
As it goes, my buddy CJ (college roomie, fellow musician/teacher type, the Elwood to my Jake) was in town during break to celebrate his birthday. We decided in addition to catching dinner with friends, we would spend the remainder of the evening bar-hopping in Manhattan. Since I am a bit OCD and generally need a game plan before I go anywhere, I suggested that rather than chase cheap booze, we should look for free music as the Village, East Village, Lower East Side trifecta is rife with free music these days. (side note: At these gigs, musicians only get paid by "passing the hat" during their set, though, strangely, my bands tend to make more money at these gigs than at those for which the audience has been charged a cover, however, I would like that tradition to continue, so please take care of the entertainers.) I purused ye olde interweb and targeted a couple of options, reminding CJ that the places with free tunes charge the same drink prices as those without, and threw together a mental list of who was playing where and at what time and reported back to the birthday boy (who was sitting on the couch across from me). In the time it took me to wrangle up some free entertainment options, CJ sured up the dinner side of things and, in the process, found out our friend Ryan was playing a free show at an Irish bar on MacDougal at 9 PM. This was strangely limiting as we didn't figure to get out of dinner until 7:30ish, but Ryan is the man, and shit was free, so we figured on making it happen. If we played our cards right however, I still figured we'd be able to catch Adam Levy (of Russ reference and poetry class fame) at 8 PM at Rockwood Music Hall. This place has quickly become my favourite spot for gigging and seeing live music and I was looking to show it off to CJ. It's small, has impeccable sound, has a "quality" to "less than" music ration of 85:15, and there is never a cover charge. When CJ texted Ryan back about our plans, he echoed these sentiments as he figured on catching the early part of Adam Levy's set before heading out to his own 9 PM gig.
Dinner was set for 5:30 at Otto. This place is borderline touristy, as it's co-owned by Mario Batali and Joe Bastianich (son of Lydia from my fave PBS cooking show), but it's crazy affordable, came highly recommended by CJ's friend Brooke, who was joining us for dinner, and has a wine list (some four times longer than the menu itself) featuring wines ranging in price from $29 to $1600. In addition to CJ, Brooke, Melissa, and I, my friend Soo and her fiance John came along. Soo and I were mad tight back in college. She and I even road-tripped it up to CJ's folks' house in the Birkshires back in the day. We listened to Leon Redbone and, despite the fact that she had no clue as to what she was communicating, she read the baseball box scores aloud to me along the way. Yeah, we had fun. We never dated, never even considered it, yet drifted apart some time after my wife and I got serious. I never fully understood this (still don't), but after seeing her again I have high hopes of rekindling this friendship. I also remembered how much I dig her man, John. In addition to his picking up (and throwing down) some Old School references, he is also a public school teacher, and seemed to be knit of something of the same cloth as me and some of my dopey friends. Here's to seeing Soo and John in '09! John split after dinner and, sadly, so did Melissa. I was hoping she would come along as I just knew she would dig Adam Levy and we hadn't actually seen a show together in some time. We kissed goodbye at the 8th St. R-train station and Soo, Brooke, CJ, and I marched onward through the rather mild winter evening.
We showed up just in time. Rockwood is small and fills up quick, but due to the latenick nature of so many New Yorker's, you can generally find a place to stand if you get there as sets are turning over. We got a great spot in the corner where the bar meets the window, said our hellos to Ryan and his crew, and grabbed a drink. Now, I should confess: While not a heavy drinker, I am generally a beer drinker; yet on this evening, I had already had two glasses of wine, and without even giving it a thought, the phrase "So-Co and Diet with a lime" tumbled from my lips when the bartender asked what I wanted to drink. While this story should generally extol the virtues of great music and camaraderie, I am fully willing to admit that the amount of Southern Comfort imbibed may have had some effect on my enjoyment of the music that night.
I learned a lot about "sitting in" that night. I don't do nearly enough of it. This is partially because I don't have the confidence or the stomach to schmooze my way into gigs, but it's also because I have built myself a rather insular circle of musical conspirators. I mean: I truly love playing with the people I do so with on the regular, but there is a part of me that would love to have my skills tested (and hopefully appreciated) with another group of players. In addition to giving me an excuse to play more and, in turn, learn more about collaborating, it could potentially open me up to an entirely new universe of players and gig/venue opportunities. I might even make a little scratch, as the circle I run in doesn't tends to play for love and love alone. Maybe I should get some business cards made... I bring all this "sitting in" stuff here, because, in addition to getting to see one of the better guitar players in town play, Shawn Pelton was sitting in on drums. He is one of the, or perhaps, THE go-to session/gig guy in NYC. He's also the house drummer on SNL. I had first heard of him from my friend Vinny - who, having been on tour with Smokey Robinson and Muse and done live sound for several high-profile events like the VMA's or NBA all-star week, only talks about top guys. While I certainly didn't recognize the face (Ryan actually pointed it out), I was certainly familiar with his playing. He understands groove like no one else. He is a master of subtlety. He is one of the biggest names in the world of professional drumming, and there he was: sitting in with Adam Levy. Before the band even hit, I knew we were in for a real treat.
Adam Levy is a little older than your average Rockwood entertainer. He is a little chubbier (though not fat) than your average guitar hero. He is far more soft-spoken than your average frontman. As a not-so-skinny, not-so-young, not-charismatic-enough-to-really-front a band type of guy, I found his mere presence downstage center incredible reassurring, appealing, even inspiring. While I have long since given up on my rock n' roll dreams, I was finally able to mentally recast myself in a different light. Leave it to Neddy Naricissism, yours truly, to go so far, but I couldn't help but think, from the moment I laid eyes and ears upon this guy, that I too could pull this thing off. The music certainly helped. See: he writes decidedly solid songs. They are by no means remarkable, but therein lies their charm. They are compositionally very strong, highly melodic, a bit formulaic (but I am a junkie for that), a little clever, but never mind-blowingly awesome. There's no evidence of literary pretensions one might find in much of today's indie rock, nor any of the musical fussiness you might find in the same scene. He writes consistently stalwart and soulful tunes about love lost and found. Don't get me wrong: I loved these songs! They far better than most of what I churn out, but tunes of this quality (as opposed to those from the McCartneys, Zappas, Waits, and Stevies of the world) felt somehow attainable - and he played a whole set of them! Tune after tune, SoCo/Diet/Lime after SoCo/Diet/Lime, I was memerized not only by his middle-of-the-roadness but by the fantasy that I too could play a set of sturdy tunes on a tuesday night at Rockwood with two of my friends just sitting in! The bass player was playing off charts for chrissakes! AND LEVY'S TONE!!! In addition to only playing right notes (more in a minute), the actual sound he was able to produce was phenomenal. It sounded exactly like am electric guitar should sound. Furthermore, while he did have great gear to work with (what appears to be a stock vintage Gibson ES-335 (Sunburst finish) played it through the house guitar amp - a Bogner Shiva that I can't seem to get to sound right without turning it up to 11), Levy proves it's all about that touch. I am guessing he could milk quality tone from a toy banjo. Timbre was only part of the picture, however. What he chooses to play is the other piece of the puzzle. For a guy with a rep. like his, he never plays more than is necessary. As a matter of fact, his guitar playing is so good that you don't notice it until he pops out of the larger texture to throw in a tasty lick or brief solo. It's all about subtlety - something the younger wanna-be-rockstar in me could have never appreciated. It's the kind of thing that now makes guys like Robbie Robertson, Izzy Stradlin, and Mick Taylor some of my faves. These guys (and Levy is certainly right up there on my faves list now) always play for the song and not for the solo. Equally influenced by country, jazz, blues, and R&B guitar playing, Adam Levy demonstrated in one set exactly the style I had been aspiring to for the last two years - I just couldn't yet put my finger on it.
Towards the end of the set - sometime after I noticed what appeared to he the bassist's seven year old daughter cheering excitedly when Levy introduced band members - sometime after Levy bought the entire bar a round of Maker's Mark (I wisely declined) - I turned back to CJ and said something to the effect of, "you just saw an incredible set for free at the best venue in town and the band bought you a drink... remind me why you don't live in New York City?" He laughed a knowing laugh - but I wasn't talking to CJ. I was reminding myself of how lucky I am to have nights like that - nights that literally (and I know this sounds corny) can change the course of your life.
We eventually met up with my buddy Chris and moseyed on over to Ryan's gig where I drank a few more SoCo/Diet/Limes and learned even more about sitting in - but that feels like a different story. Maybe next time...
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