New Year's brought about what has become an annual trek up to Michigan and Ontario, which we call the Northern Lights Tour. Now, it's a rare occasion when either Brian's or my wife will go along for the ride, but my wife Annie decided to travel the nine hours it takes from Chicago to northern Ontario. I was glad, too, because the Canadians were beginning to think that Annie was a figment of my imagination.
Annie is no stranger to Switchback road trips. When we first met, about 10 years ago, she used to accompany us on lots of road trips. The truth is, going out to a gig usually means getting into the already crammed and questionably hygienic minivan ("Smells like bachelors in here," she used to say), traveling for hours on the road while we practice our vocal exercises, and arriving at the gig to help us unload equipment and watch us work. With 200 shows a year, that can put a dent in one's personal life. But, enticed by the chance to head up to Canada, Annie said yes. Then she asked me if I would dance at least one dance with her on New Year's Eve. "Sure," I said, "No problem." The fact was, it was going to be a challenge. Playing in the band means that I would have to figure a way to get someone to play bass while I dance with Annie. How was I going to figure that out?
Brian and I headed up north first, so Annie didn't have to ride this time in the "bachelor van." We had some great Michigan shows, including a sold-out performance to benefit the Historic Elk Rapids Town Hall. Stephanie O'Dell, a great singer and friend of the band, joined us onstage to sing several holiday songs, including "I'll Be Home for Christmas," which she dedicated to her Navy boyfriend, Brent. It was a tender moment in the show and everyone got a bit misty-eyed.
After another successful concert in Grayling, MI to benefit the local Rotary Club, we headed over the Mackinac Bridge and into the U.P. Finally, it was time to cross the vaunted US-Canadian border. At the border, the Canadian customs guy was friendly-like. "Where are you going?" he asked.
We have learned that to cross easily you don't say, "I am going to see my friends and stay at their cottage on St. Joseph's Island." No, you have to lean slightly out the window, nod your head a bit, and say, "I'm headin' to my friend's camp on St. Joe." If you have a St. Joe cap, that helps even more. Of course, I didn't have my cap on and my long hair always gets a question or two.
"Where did you meet these friends?" he asked, leaning a bit toward me, "At a terrorist convention?" I think he was trying to throw me off a bit. He was successful.
"Um, no, uh, they're fans," I stammered. Should have put the hair in a ponytail.
"And why would anyone live in Iowa?" he asked, looking at our Iowa plates.
That one stopped me for a second. "Uh, he lives in Iowa," I said and pointed at Brian, "And someone has to live there, sir?"
"Go ahead," he said, handing me our passports and waving us out of his life.
Annie came up that night from Chicago with our fan club president Chris Pardee. Of course they had no problem at all crossing the border.
By the time they arrived, we were already set up at Central United Church for the big holiday concert. Another benefit, this concert would help finance a new roof for the church. Central United is a beautiful building. One striking feature is that it boasts one of the largest pipe organs in Canada. The organ, built in Holland, is impressive, with pipes reaching for the ceiling and bristling outwards toward the congregation like a battleship swinging all its guns to port, impressive and beautiful. The real beauty of it was the life that came out of it when Paul Dingle, the musical director, proceeded to play. Meeting Paul was like meeting a brother. He instantly understood what we were trying to do with our music and it was as if he had been part of the band for years.
A great number of our Canadian fans had arrived from different parts of the province. Over four hundred people packed into the church. And there were a lot of folks who had never seen us before. We brought Paul up to the organ to play "Love Won't Run Away" and I got chills as the organ created the deep mood of a dark Irish sea. The audience was thrilled, including some folks who were from County Mayo, Ireland. I introduced Annie to the audience and she smiled and waved with some polite embarrassment. It was nice to finally have our Canadian friends meet her.
New Year's Eve arrived along with the rest of the full band, Paul Russell on fiddle and mandolin and Nick Hirka on percussion. The Colonel came in with his recording equipment and we recorded a new song, "The Measure of the Master," for a sound check. Things were looking good. It was time to head back to our rooms to get ready for the evening. Annie put on a beautiful Chinese silk gown. "You look great," I said.
And like the other concerts, we had a great turnout for the event, another sold out evening. Folks were treated to prime rib, champagne, and of course music. I realized we were surrounded by a wonderful mix of Canadian and American fans who came up to see us play. And for me, the greatest gift was that my wife was there to share the evening with me.
We started our first set at 8 p.m. and proceeded to play as the party horns and hats were passed out in anticipation of 2011. I looked over at Annie and mentally made a note that I would have to pick a time to get out and dance with my wife.
Soon it was 11 p.m. I was getting nervous about how I was going to be able to dance with Annie. I had hit a snag. It seemed impossible to figure out how to pull it off. All the slow songs were sung by me. Perhaps if I could get another band member to take the bass? We were in the middle of the set and I turned to Paul Russell. "Can you play the bass?" I asked. "What?" he asked. At that moment, Brian's guitar went out, leaving Paul holding the melody on the violin. Exasperated, Brian called for a break, we got off the stage, and I sat next to Annie. I could see Fitz fuming on the stage, pulling cables and trying to figure out what had happened to his guitar. It turned out to be one cable that decided not to live to see the New Year. He got it fixed and we took to the stage.
Soon, Neil Caughill, our official St. Joe timekeeper, came up to the stage and showed that it was five minutes to midnight...just one more song in 2010. It was now or never to keep my promise. So, I jumped down from the stage, bass and all, and proceeded to "dance" with Annie -- that is, play my bass and hop around while she put her arms around my neck with the guitar making a wide gap between us -- as we played "Jesse Taylor's Nightmare." Brian jumped from the stage as well and soon everyone in the hall was on the floor dancing. Annie shook her head at me and smiled. It wasn't exactly what either of us had in mind for the last dance of the year, certainly not the romantic slow number that I had envisioned.
Our success in Switchback comes from a great deal of support (and sacrifice) from friends and family. They have helped us through every twist and turn on the trail. Our wives, especially, have been very patient and committed to our dream of being independent musicians. They have celebrated our successes and bolstered our confidence during the low times. It is difficult when we are apart, and sometimes the best we have to offer them is an awkward last minute dance when we are together. But awkward or not, it's a great gift to be able to share your passion with someone who believes in you and sees you for who you are. I can't ask for anything more when I am attempting to dance with my wife with a big acoustic bass between us and she is willing to put her arms around me, smile, and dance the last dance of the year with me.
Happy New Year,
Marty
Follow Switchback as they travel the backroads and byways of the United States, Canada and Europe.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Write on about songwriting!
Switchback is offering its first songwriters weekend to take place April 8-10 at Four Mounds Inn, Dubuque, Iowa. The spring seminar will feature noted songwriter and leader of Lamb's Retreat Songwriting Weekends, John Lamb.
"John has made his weekends fun," says Brian. "He assigns each person a topic that he creates for the weekend. From there, the songwriter has to work in groups, with one of the songwriters and of course on their own to create their work. If they like, then it is played for everyone toward the end of the weekend. It's a no pressure, laid back situation which has everyone learning something about songwriting. We brought him to our weekend to make sure that we have the same sort of good time."
The Four Mounds Inn as a setting will certainly help with any necessary inspiration. Situated on a bluff overlooking the Mississippi River, it is a Dubuque Landmark Site, is listed on the National Register of Historic Places and is a Silos and Smokestacks National Heritage Area affiliate site. The estate consists of nearly 60 acres of bluffs and boasts cultured grounds, historic gardens, woodlands, prairie and rare oak savanna. The site is focused around the historic Grey House, a 1908 Arts & Crafts styled mansion designed by the Chicago architect Lawrence Buck. The cultured grounds were planned out by Chicago landscape architect A. Phelps Wyman.
The staff will offer fantastic prepared meals and accommodations are available at the historic Inn grounds for those outside of the Dubuque area.
"We hope to get about 20 people to sign up as well as some sponsors so that we can make this an annual event," says Marty. "There isn't a songwriting opportunity such as this in central Midwest. We would love to draw people to write at a wonderful place during a wonderful time of the year."
Information and reservations at http://www.waygoodmusic.com/
"So far the biggest question we have received is whether one has to be a songwriter to attend," says Marty. "Not at all! The main reason for the weekend is to offer a place where people can learn about songwriting and hone their songwriting skills. So we are hoping to get all ages and all skills from novice to professional."
Brian and Marty are very excited about John Lamb as their first guest songwriter. Lamb has been a professional musician for over 25 years. His retreats have brought in some of the most talented songwriters on the music scene today and allowed them to work one on one with people. At the same time, these professionals are also given the challenge to write a song over the weekend. Everyone collaborates and the result is a great time with an emphasis on enjoyment.
"John has made his weekends fun," says Brian. "He assigns each person a topic that he creates for the weekend. From there, the songwriter has to work in groups, with one of the songwriters and of course on their own to create their work. If they like, then it is played for everyone toward the end of the weekend. It's a no pressure, laid back situation which has everyone learning something about songwriting. We brought him to our weekend to make sure that we have the same sort of good time."
The Four Mounds Inn as a setting will certainly help with any necessary inspiration. Situated on a bluff overlooking the Mississippi River, it is a Dubuque Landmark Site, is listed on the National Register of Historic Places and is a Silos and Smokestacks National Heritage Area affiliate site. The estate consists of nearly 60 acres of bluffs and boasts cultured grounds, historic gardens, woodlands, prairie and rare oak savanna. The site is focused around the historic Grey House, a 1908 Arts & Crafts styled mansion designed by the Chicago architect Lawrence Buck. The cultured grounds were planned out by Chicago landscape architect A. Phelps Wyman.
The staff will offer fantastic prepared meals and accommodations are available at the historic Inn grounds for those outside of the Dubuque area.
"We hope to get about 20 people to sign up as well as some sponsors so that we can make this an annual event," says Marty. "There isn't a songwriting opportunity such as this in central Midwest. We would love to draw people to write at a wonderful place during a wonderful time of the year."
Information and reservations at http://www.waygoodmusic.com/
Monday, January 17, 2011
Larry Weir, Wish You Were Here
Larry would have loved the latest news from Washington, I think. When I think of independent community radio, I think of Larry Weir. He was a beloved DJ and driving force behind KDHX radio in St. Louis, arguably one of the powerhouses of independent community radio in the Midwest. About a year ago, Larry slipped on ice and suffered a traumatic brain injury that resulted in his death. With his passing the world lost a fantastic advocate for community radio, which is the lifeblood of original, independent music and hopefully soon to be the great leveler of the commercial radio industry.
I am an independent musician and so yes, I am biased in favor of good music that challenges the monolithic music industry. I have a great deal of admiration for community radio all over the world. It has been community-based radio that has helped bring my band to the attention of new fans everywhere. Midwest Radio in County Mayo, Ireland; WEVL in Memphis, and Folkland radio in Germany have had DJs who have dedicated their lives to the pursuit of what I would call “real people music.” Being an independent musician in the great music town of Chicago, I am embarrassed to say we don’t have an equivalent outlet for the variety of musical programming as KDHX. Our closest approximation of it is WDCB, a 5000 watt station in Glen Ellyn that has a broadcast signal which can’t reach the entire city. In comparison, KDHX is a 42,000 watt station. I was happy to find out that WNUR, the Northwestern University station, has a 7200 watt range and one of the most powerful transmitters of any college in the country. Admittedly, I don’t know too much about what is played on WNUR. The only person in commercial radio who seems to care a bit about independent music is Richard Milne, who is given a paltry 30 minutes on Sundays on CBS-owned WXRT to play his show “The Local Anesthetic.” Nevertheless, kudos for the 30 minutes!
WBEZ, our NPR station, gave up on music just as I was starting to get in the business. For a brief moment in time, WABT attempted to showcase Chicago music, but financially it couldn’t keep going. My wife bypasses Chicago stations completely and opts for KCRW on the net to listen to new music.
As I said, Chicago is a great music town. It started country music with its “Barn Dance” show on WLS. It was the town that created the blues that influenced the Rolling Stones. And it is home to a plethora of independent artists ranging from Wilco to Nicholas Tremulis to bands like the Yellowhammers. Yet it does not have one radio voice that represents our current musical diversity. Perhaps that has something to do with Chicago being known as the “City of Neighborhoods.”
That said, there is hope for Chicago and other communities. Congress finally passed the Community Radio Act at the end of last year. In layman’s terms this means that we can have 100 watt stations that can serve various communities with independent political and musical thought. It doesn’t help our situation much in Chicago as far as having one city-wide station. I did find out that even a 100 watt station on a 150 foot high mast can broadcast 50 miles. That could eventually help us here in the Windy City where we are known for some tall buildings which could support such a mast.
How that will actually work is better left to the experts, but there are a couple of golden opportunities here. The most important one is that neighborhoods and communities can support their independent artists and cultivate appreciative listeners. And in turn, indie artists and music fans can be a force in their communities. By streaming on the Internet, it is possible for a small station to garner a large following outside its community. The independent artist community and its fans will have that many more stations to reach out to as well.
If we do see a surge in the number of Low Power FM Stations, that will be an opportunity for musicians to get their music heard, both recorded and live. It will be the closest thing to the day when a musician would travel from station to station to showcase original music. It will also be a chance for music fans to be introduced to music they would not hear otherwise.
As a musician, I can say from experience that being heard and getting played and playing live are necessary for the growth of my career. It was crucial for Switchback to start out playing community and public stations. They provided the outlet for us to be heard. Since we never had the backing of a major label, this and the Internet would be the only media venues available to us.
The Internet didn’t really start “happening” for music until the 90’s. For youngsters that might bring about a yawn, but I can remember giving out my mailing address in America on Irish radio so people could buy our cassettes. A lot has changed quickly.
So what should people do? First, visit the Future of Music Coalition at http://futureofmusic.org/research and get acquainted with what can be done to help keep independent music alive. These people are working to make sure independent musicians keep making music for the masses to hear. Second, support your existing community radio stations, either by donating (which they love and need) or simply sporting their stickers on your car. Or both. I proudly carry KDHX on my bass guitar case.
My guess is that Larry would have loved the passing of the Community Radio Act. If only he could have been around to see this day when the chance of having community radio stations across the country was finally sanctioned by the government. I think he would have been happy to see communities creating low power stations that can enable more artists to create and provide more music for fans to appreciate those artists. And not only music, but drama, civic action, and neighborhood news can be presented as well! It took a long time, but it has finally arrived. Will it correct the past two decades of mainstream radio mismanagement? It’s up to the people to decide.
Martin McCormack
Switchback
http://www.waygoodmusic.com/
I am an independent musician and so yes, I am biased in favor of good music that challenges the monolithic music industry. I have a great deal of admiration for community radio all over the world. It has been community-based radio that has helped bring my band to the attention of new fans everywhere. Midwest Radio in County Mayo, Ireland; WEVL in Memphis, and Folkland radio in Germany have had DJs who have dedicated their lives to the pursuit of what I would call “real people music.” Being an independent musician in the great music town of Chicago, I am embarrassed to say we don’t have an equivalent outlet for the variety of musical programming as KDHX. Our closest approximation of it is WDCB, a 5000 watt station in Glen Ellyn that has a broadcast signal which can’t reach the entire city. In comparison, KDHX is a 42,000 watt station. I was happy to find out that WNUR, the Northwestern University station, has a 7200 watt range and one of the most powerful transmitters of any college in the country. Admittedly, I don’t know too much about what is played on WNUR. The only person in commercial radio who seems to care a bit about independent music is Richard Milne, who is given a paltry 30 minutes on Sundays on CBS-owned WXRT to play his show “The Local Anesthetic.” Nevertheless, kudos for the 30 minutes!
WBEZ, our NPR station, gave up on music just as I was starting to get in the business. For a brief moment in time, WABT attempted to showcase Chicago music, but financially it couldn’t keep going. My wife bypasses Chicago stations completely and opts for KCRW on the net to listen to new music.
As I said, Chicago is a great music town. It started country music with its “Barn Dance” show on WLS. It was the town that created the blues that influenced the Rolling Stones. And it is home to a plethora of independent artists ranging from Wilco to Nicholas Tremulis to bands like the Yellowhammers. Yet it does not have one radio voice that represents our current musical diversity. Perhaps that has something to do with Chicago being known as the “City of Neighborhoods.”
That said, there is hope for Chicago and other communities. Congress finally passed the Community Radio Act at the end of last year. In layman’s terms this means that we can have 100 watt stations that can serve various communities with independent political and musical thought. It doesn’t help our situation much in Chicago as far as having one city-wide station. I did find out that even a 100 watt station on a 150 foot high mast can broadcast 50 miles. That could eventually help us here in the Windy City where we are known for some tall buildings which could support such a mast.
How that will actually work is better left to the experts, but there are a couple of golden opportunities here. The most important one is that neighborhoods and communities can support their independent artists and cultivate appreciative listeners. And in turn, indie artists and music fans can be a force in their communities. By streaming on the Internet, it is possible for a small station to garner a large following outside its community. The independent artist community and its fans will have that many more stations to reach out to as well.
If we do see a surge in the number of Low Power FM Stations, that will be an opportunity for musicians to get their music heard, both recorded and live. It will be the closest thing to the day when a musician would travel from station to station to showcase original music. It will also be a chance for music fans to be introduced to music they would not hear otherwise.
As a musician, I can say from experience that being heard and getting played and playing live are necessary for the growth of my career. It was crucial for Switchback to start out playing community and public stations. They provided the outlet for us to be heard. Since we never had the backing of a major label, this and the Internet would be the only media venues available to us.
The Internet didn’t really start “happening” for music until the 90’s. For youngsters that might bring about a yawn, but I can remember giving out my mailing address in America on Irish radio so people could buy our cassettes. A lot has changed quickly.
So what should people do? First, visit the Future of Music Coalition at http://futureofmusic.org/research and get acquainted with what can be done to help keep independent music alive. These people are working to make sure independent musicians keep making music for the masses to hear. Second, support your existing community radio stations, either by donating (which they love and need) or simply sporting their stickers on your car. Or both. I proudly carry KDHX on my bass guitar case.
My guess is that Larry would have loved the passing of the Community Radio Act. If only he could have been around to see this day when the chance of having community radio stations across the country was finally sanctioned by the government. I think he would have been happy to see communities creating low power stations that can enable more artists to create and provide more music for fans to appreciate those artists. And not only music, but drama, civic action, and neighborhood news can be presented as well! It took a long time, but it has finally arrived. Will it correct the past two decades of mainstream radio mismanagement? It’s up to the people to decide.
Martin McCormack
Switchback
http://www.waygoodmusic.com/
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Concert Review: Switchback fills Town Hall with holiday spirit
Martin McCormack and Brian FitzGerald have been performing together for a long time, and it shows. Their camaraderie is obvious and their timing, accompaniments and harmonies are impeccable. Also impressive is their sense of mixing up the selection and tempo of the songs they play—a wonderful mix of ballads, rabble-rousing, original and traditional.
I saw them perform in Elk Rapids, Michigan December 28, 2010 (to a full house), a benefit concert for restoration of the venue, the historic town hall. Marty told the audience that he and Brian have an affinity for tradition, which explains some of the music that Switchback performs, but also is the reason they often play in old buildings with a history and, hopefully, a future.
At this particular concert, they threw in a lot of Christmas favorites and sing-a-longs. It was a few days past Christmas, but there was still plenty of Holiday spirit in the crowd, which was remarkably in tune. Sometimes when a band asks the audience to sing, it is fun, but audibly grating. Not the case here. It almost sounded like a practiced choir. Switchback does a great job of including the audience in their musical magic.
I was with my wife and three of my grandchildren (7-8-year-olds). Granddaughter Jenna showed a knack for music reviewing when she noted how amazed she was that Brian could play so many different instruments. She wondered why they played some songs with no words. So that night she learned a new word: instrumental.
The prowess of Brian on guitars and mandolin made my fingers hurt just watching him, and prompted grandson Max to ask “how does he strum so fast?” He also noted that Marty can really kick his legs up high.
Local up-and-comer Stephanie O’Dell joined Switchback at various times on stage, and she was superb. She got understandably emotional when she pointed out her significant other in the audience, who was home for the holidays from the Navy.
Switchback and Stephanie made this more than a concert. It was a true community gathering.
–by Don Weeks, Elk Rapids, Michigan, with help from Jenna & Max
photo by Jim Sundberg. Originally posted on Elk Rapids Live 12-30-10
http://www.waygoodmusic.com/
Monday, December 20, 2010
Jingle Keys, Jingle Keys, Jingle all the Way
Saturday night was the annual Midwestern Christmas Concert held at the Thrasher Opera House in Green Lake, WI. The Thrasher Opera House is a beautiful building, built by one Charlie Thrasher back in 1910. Edifice it is not, rather a practical structure, with a good sized stage on one end and a modest balcony on the other end. On the floor between the two are plush red cushioned chairs, which have come a long way from the original wooden kitchen chairs that were part of Charlie’s decor. Above these chairs, spans a delightful tin ceiling that curves on the sides, giving the ceiling a modest arch effect. This arch helps the acoustics in the building quite a bit and it is easy to stride from the microphone and deliver a song from the edge of the stage. Cheery and intimate, it is the perfect place for us to have a Midwestern Christmas.
So what makes a Midwestern Christmas show? First it needs to have good winter weather. Last night was brisk, about 15 degrees outside, and the snow was pretty thick on the ground. One doesn’t wish to have a raging blizzard or a snow melting, grass revealing rain. It just needs to have enough cold and snow that it sets the scene for what is to happen inside. Last night also had a bright, three-quarters full moon, which was a bonus.
Next, you need good Christmas decor. In the Midwest, that means something not too over the top. Leave the shaking, singing Santas and blinking pink and purple lights for another part of the country. The Thrasher nailed it, with a Christmas tree on stage, some wreaths either side, some simple pine bunting and little candles in the window. It brings back a nostalgic air of yesterday, when things were a bit simpler and less commercial. Of course, that is today, because Midwesterners pride themselves on keeping things good and simple.
The delivery of the show has to be laid back Midwestern. Brian and I came out on stage and immediately launched into some nice Irish jigs. The first thing I heard was the soft thumping of feet on the floor, keeping perfect rhythm to the music. “Veterans”, I noted to myself. Other folks were looking around, sort of amazed at this display of impromptu audience participation. So, when we finished, I asked how many folks were seeing us for the first time. About half of the theater raised their hands. Now, one must tell Midwesterners that it is OK to relax. Especially Minnesotans as the Norwegians are the toughest ones to crack. Or else it could be a quiet, polite evening. So we told them to clap their hands when they want, make a comment when they wish, hoot, whistle, stomp feet and cheer, as after all, this is their show. And thus freed, they did. You don’t get this behavior every day. So it makes a Switchback Christmas show uniquely special.
One tradition that started in Green Lake is the famous Christmas Key Choir. Sort of like a handbell choir for those who prefer driving cars to playing handbells. We started in on Silver Bells and immediately the choir took its place, bringing out Fords, Chevy’s, Toyotas, home and business keys and shaking them in a nice soft jingle that sounded like a far away horse drawn sleigh coming through snowy woods. The Christmas Key Choir was in wonderful form that night, with a rousing solo on Santa Claus is Coming to Town and a frenetic paced Jingle Bells. Some of the folks who had fancy cars were a bit hampered by the plastic encased keys that have electric door gizmos on them. One newcomer, a young lady, mentioned that she was caught unprepared for the Christmas Key Choir. “I just had a few keys, they didn’t jingle so well,” she said, holding up a Lexus key gizmo thing. “But, I will be bringing more keys next year!” I smiled. Now, that’s a Midwesterner, getting the right number of keys so the choir isn’t let down.
Another important item is the selection of songs. In the Midwest you have to pick some good old Christmas carols as everyone knows these by heart. Young and old have no problem singing Christmas carols in the Midwest. You might have someone who is too shy to sing on any other night of the year, but start in with Away in the Manger and the inner alto or tenor comes into blossom, and strangely on key, too. And even harmony! The best Christmas Carol is Silent Night. I bet even the most ardent atheist would have felt a bit verklempt as we all sang together without any accompaniment, just the voices swelling in a reverent, beautifully balanced version:
Round young Virgin,
Mother and Child,
Holy Infant,
So tender and mild
Our folks were such great singers that Brian and I asked them to join in a Switchback Carol called The Little Stranger in the Manger. A call and answer type of song, they did fantastically well, and soon we had the place rocking like an old fashioned tent meeting. Several times during the evening, Brian and I stopped singing altogether, letting the audience sing away.
Speaking of animals, the other must-have for a Midwestern Christmas is the presence of one at the show, preferably a dog. Midwesterners, even the city dwelling type, are truly only a step or two from the farm. They know how vegetables are raised and that the ground beef was walking a week ago. And with this rural mind-set, a traditional winter evening gathering of hearth and fire, with a faithful friend at one’s feet, is hot-wired into the psyche; a return to the pioneering days perhaps, or at least to watching Little House on the Prairie. We were blessed by a beautiful golden retriever that accompanied his master to the show. A Seeing Eye dog, it was quiet and well behaved and laid down at the foot of the stage, napping during our numbers. It was a perfect addition to a family-style evening.
Finally, the true Midwestern tradition had to be present: A door prize. Before the show, we asked Martha from the Thrasher Opera House to pick a chair for us to tape a copy of the Turf Fire DVD under. I memorized the location...row three, seat three. Or so I thought. I was flummoxed to see that during the show that seat was empty, being used for a coat rack. So before our last number, I called out, “We have a door prize!” An excited buzz filled the Thrasher. Since I thought it was the empty chair, I told folks to look under the empty chairs. Nothing. I told them a big hint, the only empty chair in row three. Nothing. Now I was really confused. Brian then mentioned to me sotto voce that he thought it was row four, seat three. “OK,” I said, “Everyone look under your chairs!” And with that folks went diving under their seats and one happy lady came up with the prize. We autographed it for her after the show.
We shook everyone’s hands and bade everyone a Merry Christmas as they headed out into the cold night. People were already talking about next year. And some folks mentioned they had traveled from over three hours away to be part of this night, which was a real honor. The pedal steel player from the band, the Yellowhammers came all the way up with his wife from Chicago. Their friend went home with a Switchback jacket. We told them how excited we are to have the Yellowhammers play at the Haybarn Rendezvous this coming August.
Within minutes, the Opera House was deserted; the stage cleared of the guitars and packed up into the idling van. We shook Reilly the soundman’s hand, thanked Roby for letting play at the Thrasher and gave Martha and all the lady volunteers a kiss. And with that, we were off, driving down snow banked country roads with the moonlight gleaming on fields. We passed a silo that had a big Christmas star gleaming on its top. I watched it get smaller as we headed south toward home; another Christmas celebration in the heart of the heartland.
And to all, a good night.
~ Marty
So what makes a Midwestern Christmas show? First it needs to have good winter weather. Last night was brisk, about 15 degrees outside, and the snow was pretty thick on the ground. One doesn’t wish to have a raging blizzard or a snow melting, grass revealing rain. It just needs to have enough cold and snow that it sets the scene for what is to happen inside. Last night also had a bright, three-quarters full moon, which was a bonus.
Next, you need good Christmas decor. In the Midwest, that means something not too over the top. Leave the shaking, singing Santas and blinking pink and purple lights for another part of the country. The Thrasher nailed it, with a Christmas tree on stage, some wreaths either side, some simple pine bunting and little candles in the window. It brings back a nostalgic air of yesterday, when things were a bit simpler and less commercial. Of course, that is today, because Midwesterners pride themselves on keeping things good and simple.
One tradition that started in Green Lake is the famous Christmas Key Choir. Sort of like a handbell choir for those who prefer driving cars to playing handbells. We started in on Silver Bells and immediately the choir took its place, bringing out Fords, Chevy’s, Toyotas, home and business keys and shaking them in a nice soft jingle that sounded like a far away horse drawn sleigh coming through snowy woods. The Christmas Key Choir was in wonderful form that night, with a rousing solo on Santa Claus is Coming to Town and a frenetic paced Jingle Bells. Some of the folks who had fancy cars were a bit hampered by the plastic encased keys that have electric door gizmos on them. One newcomer, a young lady, mentioned that she was caught unprepared for the Christmas Key Choir. “I just had a few keys, they didn’t jingle so well,” she said, holding up a Lexus key gizmo thing. “But, I will be bringing more keys next year!” I smiled. Now, that’s a Midwesterner, getting the right number of keys so the choir isn’t let down.
Another important item is the selection of songs. In the Midwest you have to pick some good old Christmas carols as everyone knows these by heart. Young and old have no problem singing Christmas carols in the Midwest. You might have someone who is too shy to sing on any other night of the year, but start in with Away in the Manger and the inner alto or tenor comes into blossom, and strangely on key, too. And even harmony! The best Christmas Carol is Silent Night. I bet even the most ardent atheist would have felt a bit verklempt as we all sang together without any accompaniment, just the voices swelling in a reverent, beautifully balanced version:
Round young Virgin,
Mother and Child,
Holy Infant,
So tender and mild
Our folks were such great singers that Brian and I asked them to join in a Switchback Carol called The Little Stranger in the Manger. A call and answer type of song, they did fantastically well, and soon we had the place rocking like an old fashioned tent meeting. Several times during the evening, Brian and I stopped singing altogether, letting the audience sing away.
They were also wonderful with special effects. Brian introduced Hockey Games and suggested that we need appropriate ambience for the introduction. Immediately some whistling wind and lonely wolf howls filled the hall. All Brian would do was mention, “Ambience!” during the song and everyone joined right in. You can view the video by clicking here.
Speaking of animals, the other must-have for a Midwestern Christmas is the presence of one at the show, preferably a dog. Midwesterners, even the city dwelling type, are truly only a step or two from the farm. They know how vegetables are raised and that the ground beef was walking a week ago. And with this rural mind-set, a traditional winter evening gathering of hearth and fire, with a faithful friend at one’s feet, is hot-wired into the psyche; a return to the pioneering days perhaps, or at least to watching Little House on the Prairie. We were blessed by a beautiful golden retriever that accompanied his master to the show. A Seeing Eye dog, it was quiet and well behaved and laid down at the foot of the stage, napping during our numbers. It was a perfect addition to a family-style evening.
Finally, the true Midwestern tradition had to be present: A door prize. Before the show, we asked Martha from the Thrasher Opera House to pick a chair for us to tape a copy of the Turf Fire DVD under. I memorized the location...row three, seat three. Or so I thought. I was flummoxed to see that during the show that seat was empty, being used for a coat rack. So before our last number, I called out, “We have a door prize!” An excited buzz filled the Thrasher. Since I thought it was the empty chair, I told folks to look under the empty chairs. Nothing. I told them a big hint, the only empty chair in row three. Nothing. Now I was really confused. Brian then mentioned to me sotto voce that he thought it was row four, seat three. “OK,” I said, “Everyone look under your chairs!” And with that folks went diving under their seats and one happy lady came up with the prize. We autographed it for her after the show.
We shook everyone’s hands and bade everyone a Merry Christmas as they headed out into the cold night. People were already talking about next year. And some folks mentioned they had traveled from over three hours away to be part of this night, which was a real honor. The pedal steel player from the band, the Yellowhammers came all the way up with his wife from Chicago. Their friend went home with a Switchback jacket. We told them how excited we are to have the Yellowhammers play at the Haybarn Rendezvous this coming August.
Within minutes, the Opera House was deserted; the stage cleared of the guitars and packed up into the idling van. We shook Reilly the soundman’s hand, thanked Roby for letting play at the Thrasher and gave Martha and all the lady volunteers a kiss. And with that, we were off, driving down snow banked country roads with the moonlight gleaming on fields. We passed a silo that had a big Christmas star gleaming on its top. I watched it get smaller as we headed south toward home; another Christmas celebration in the heart of the heartland.
And to all, a good night.
~ Marty
Monday, December 13, 2010
Switchback's Debut in Fort Smith and Second Street Live
So down to Fort Smith, Arkansas we drove. We arrived 12 hours later in a town known as the last stop on the Trail of Tears where the tribes were given a final meal before they were banished to the plains. Fending for ourselves, we scoped Main Street for a place to eat. We heard the unmistakable sound of live music coming from one of the local watering holes.
As we approached the club, we saw this long-haired guy perched behind a drum kit, partially blocking the entrance, and thumping along to Guy Clark's "Desperados Waiting for a Train." This person represented the intimidating doorman and his presence meant a potential cover charge, which is enough to strike fear in the hearts of traveling Irish musicians. And when the guy collecting the potential cover charge is wielding not one but two wooden sticks, intimidation goes to fear and then to panic. From the outside, the joint gave no indication of serving hot meals for hungry, itinerate musicians. So we walked a half a block to a sports bar where we had dinner, then returned to the hotel for a good night's sleep.
The next morning after breakfast, John Pearce, the artistic director for Second Street Live, picked us up and brought us to our first gig, an assembly for music students at the University of Arkansas. Imagine our surprise when we were introduced to our sound technician, Tom Ware, our phantom doorman from the night before. Not only was he not a doorman, but there was no cover charge. He was just drumming along with a band playing covers. Tom turned out to be a gentle soul who also played a tender, thoughtful, moving violin. How do we know this? Because he put Marty in a headlock and forced us to let him sit in on our set that night!
Yes, the technically gifted Tom was also an accomplished musician. Over lunch we learned that a long time ago, he attended beer school in Milwaukee. Along with other notable Texas musicians, the noble Lloyd Maines and the Maines Brothers were among his fellow classmates. Back then, the beer companies took time to instruct musical entities. They would sponsor you, but you had to play by their rules (drinking only their product on stage being an obvious one).
The evening's concert at Second Street Live was on Veterans Day and "Falling Water River" received a standing ovation. The sold-out concert was a great success. After saying farewell and signing DVDs and CDs, we joined John and a small group of friends and headed over to the same watering hole that struck so much terror in our hearts the night before. A singer-songwriter solo act played to a handful of people nursing their drinks. It looked like a pretty laid back night until a trio of lovely young ladies herded in a confusion of revelers from a nearby Irish pub. The young ladies, having seen our concert, spread the word and we found ourselves cloaked in warm hospitality, Fort Smith style. We have already made tentative plans to return to Fort Smith, Arkansas, and we recommend this as a must-do Switchback road trip. ~ Brian FitzGerald
Friday, December 10, 2010
A Night at the Focal Point with Beatle Bob
Saturday was a special night at the Focal Point in St. Louis as Switchback brought a "present" to the audience. The second half of the evening featured a set with the full band, which included Nick Hirka on drums and Paul Russell on violin. And in return, Switchback received a present in the person of the legendary Beatle Bob, who came in to dance to the band. According to musician lore, having Beatle Bob at your show means that your show is the hottest ticket in town. Bob has been going to shows all over the country and has developed a following from those who have created a fan site in honor of him, to those who created a site to get him to sit down. Wikipedia has the full story of this eccentric, but truly devoted live music follower. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beatle_Bob
Switchback has always looked at Beatle Bob as a sign of good luck and that they are on the right track. Beatle Bob was thrilled with the show and taped a testimonial later to present to fans, exhorting them to come out and see a Switchback concert. The concert at the Focal Point was one of the largest yet, with all seats taken and standing room only in the back. When the full band hit the stage, some impromptu dancing broke out, started by super Switchback Fan, Dancing Donna. Half the audience was new fans, a large number of them brought in by Switchback fan Brenda Sobeleski. Two special moments occurred when the band dedicated "The Moon" to STeamers Helmut and Sarah Koch, and when proud grandma and Focal Point presenter Carol Kuntz held up a phone so her new granddaughter Olivia in Seattle could hear "Stellar Jay's Wing" played for her. Her daughter said she liked the soothing song that features the soaring violin of Paul Russell. Switchback will return to the Focal Point for a Saturday concert on June 4, 2011.
http://www.waygoodmusic.com/
Switchback has always looked at Beatle Bob as a sign of good luck and that they are on the right track. Beatle Bob was thrilled with the show and taped a testimonial later to present to fans, exhorting them to come out and see a Switchback concert. The concert at the Focal Point was one of the largest yet, with all seats taken and standing room only in the back. When the full band hit the stage, some impromptu dancing broke out, started by super Switchback Fan, Dancing Donna. Half the audience was new fans, a large number of them brought in by Switchback fan Brenda Sobeleski. Two special moments occurred when the band dedicated "The Moon" to STeamers Helmut and Sarah Koch, and when proud grandma and Focal Point presenter Carol Kuntz held up a phone so her new granddaughter Olivia in Seattle could hear "Stellar Jay's Wing" played for her. Her daughter said she liked the soothing song that features the soaring violin of Paul Russell. Switchback will return to the Focal Point for a Saturday concert on June 4, 2011.http://www.waygoodmusic.com/
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Switchback at The Center for Head Injury Services in St. Louis
One of Brian and Marty's favorite things is to reach out to the community when they are in town for a concert. And that is what they did this past Monday, when they visited the Center for Head Injury Services in St. Louis. A part of St. John's Mercy Medical Center, the center is a place to help people have a full and vibrant life.
Hi Marty and Brian,
I just wanted to thank you again for coming to perform for my group on Monday...they really enjoyed you guys. We watched the DVD yesterday and everyone clapped and cheered after each song (it was really cute!). I hope that you had a safe trip home and that the holidays bring you both happiness and peace!
P.S. Regina says that you both have a little bit of "Soul" in you!
With Kindness,
Lynne Cruse
Reb. Specialist
The Center for Head Injury Services
http://www.headinjuryctr-stl.org
http://www.waygoodmusic.com/
A full and vibrant show was what took place, with residents getting in on Switchback's act. There was dancing to Switchback originals as well as some "spotlight" moments, such as when one resident lead everyone in singing "I Got Friends In Low Places". Switchback made friends in a great place that afternoon and presented the center with a DVD of the Americana Sessions to watch. A return in the summer is planned that would incorporate a picnic for residents and their families.
Hi Marty and Brian,
I just wanted to thank you again for coming to perform for my group on Monday...they really enjoyed you guys. We watched the DVD yesterday and everyone clapped and cheered after each song (it was really cute!). I hope that you had a safe trip home and that the holidays bring you both happiness and peace!
P.S. Regina says that you both have a little bit of "Soul" in you!
With Kindness,
Lynne Cruse
Reb. Specialist
The Center for Head Injury Services
http://www.headinjuryctr-stl.org
http://www.waygoodmusic.com/
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Switchback: A Night at the Theater
Friday was a wonderful night to be at the Acorn Theater in Three Oaks, Michigan. This eclectic and beautiful listening room was created within the historic Featherbone Corset Factory. Reflecting the warm and relaxed personalities of the owners, Dave Fink and Kim Clark, the Acorn is a theater and also an art gallery. Within the lobby is an extraordinary gourmet wine shop, and there is plenty to catch your eye throughout.
You can almost feel the spirit of the independent women who worked in the Featherbone Corset Factory, as well as those who wore them over a hundred years ago. A lovely young local singer songwriter, Christy Davis, captured that spirit in her sweet, strong vocals when she opened the concert for Marty and Brian. When Switchback took the stage, they dedicated the song Genevieve to their memory.
Playing to a sold out crowd, they thrilled the audience with their signature blend of Irish Jigs, Ballads, Americana, Blues, and Rock and Roll. This was clearly an audience that appreciated the outstanding musicianship of the evening, which included the impressive talents of Nick Hirka on percussion and ukulele, and Paul Russell on fiddle and guitar during the second set. We were even treated to a new and lovely “full band version” of Apple of My Eye!
It was a wonderful night of reconnecting with old friends, meeting new friends and fans, and welcoming another town to the WayGood World! As Marty succinctly put it “It was a great night!”
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
And with a wave to us gawking kids, they were off!
Last month, Brian and I had the opportunity to play for over 9,000 students as part of the Dubuque Art Council's "Artist in Residence" program. In 10 days we covered hundreds of miles as we crisscrossed three states and visited 33 schools. Perhaps you read some of the students' comments here on our blog. Kids do say the darndest things. I found myself enjoying every outreach program we presented. The students were hungry for the opportunity to listen to live music and to see what a "real" musician looks like.
One of the magical parts of playing the schools would occur after the show. Usually a shy boy or girl would come up as the rest of the school was heading off to class or lunch and ask Brian and me about the bass or guitar. It would only take a glance and I knew the kid had that "look." It was the look that comes over people when they've been hooked forever by the muse of music.
I remember how it went for me as a kid. It was the Robin Hood Players, a group of performers that came from either Rockford or Chicago. Over the intercom came the fuzzy, disembodied voice of Sister Dorothea: "Boys and girls, there will be an assembly program today at 2:00 in the auditorium. Best behavior please!"
I would count down the minutes until we all lined up and threaded our way down the dark halls of St. Mary's School, with the smell of oil-polished wood filling our nostrils and the buzzing of dim overhead florescent lighting making us all look anemic. We thumped down the stairs which creaked in protest from each well-worn step as we headed to the assembly hall, teachers looking at us with the death stare if we dared talked or thumped a step too hard. Into the doors of the ancient auditorium and there it was, the stage set up with a minimum of scenery and whatever lighting could be coaxed from a light board that probably Edison himself installed.
Onto the stage strode the Robin Hood Players. And I was hooked. They acted, they sang, they improvised. I can hardly remember what happened on stage - something about a fairy tale - but I remember clearly how they were on stage. I could tell that those people, who I thought of as big adults but almost certainly were just out of college, loved performing. I remember laughing and feeling caught in some sort of spell. It was if I were seeing with my eyes one thing, while being told in my heart another thing. The show went on as my heart was saying, "You could do this too!"
Over the years, I would have that affirmation again and again, like the time Russian singers and dancers came to the Woodstock Opera House and performed their traditional music. This was prior to the opera house's beautiful restoration, with lumpy seats and a huge hole in the peeling ceiling in which a pigeon observed the performance along with our sparse audience. And the Cossack (I imagined he must be a Cossack) took out his dagger and drove it into the stage floor on the last step of his dance. It quivered there as he held out his arms to the applause. I was seeing one thing with my eyes, but hearing another thing in my heart. "This is life, and this is joy. Pursue it."
I remember these events so much more than the hours of television I watched. Of course I remember the Batman show, when Robin had his arm caught in a giant clam. And The Monkees, when Peter sold his soul to the Devil to play the harp, but found out he had the ability to make music in him all along. But that stuff was television. These performances were real, in my face and in the moment. I was nine years old and I was hooked.
We filed out of the auditorium after the Robin Hood players took their last bow and the old velvet curtains slowly strained their way to a sloppy, dusty close. I waited for the bus to come and take me back home. One of the Robin Hood players, a young man, came striding into Sr. Dorothea's office. There she slowly wrote him a check and he thanked her profusely. She smiled back, her thin veil a bit offset on her gray head. I watched him then bound down the steps of our school and out to the waiting van. With a wave to us gawking kids, they were off. I was hooked.
Now, almost 40 years later, I am coming into the schools to play music for kids. These kids have so much more coming at them than I did. I grew up with Etch a Sketch as one of the more technically challenging devices. They have I-Pods, video games, a myriad of sports, Kindles, Facebook, Myspace and whatever else new that is happening on the computer. But here we were, with our hand-crafted instruments, our small sound system and the one-on-one chance of bringing a spark of interest in music to 9,000 kids. I know all 9,000 heard us. But one or two were looking with their eyes, listening with their hearts, and were hooked.
We need live music. Not the "go to the big concert" type either. We need the independent groups that come to the towns and come into the schools, the opera houses and the libraries, the groups that touch souls first. The groups that still play old standards and originals that will never be heard on the Grammys, musicians and artists who prove that joy wins out in the end. These people are still out there in spite of whatever commercial roadblocks and pitfalls have been thrown in our modern, recessive times. And they survive because other people have seen with their eyes and heard with their hearts and have made a financial effort to keep the arts alive.
Robin Hood took from the rich and gave to the poor. Or so the story goes. But the Robin Hood Players knowingly or unknowingly took their riches and gave them to me that fall day back in the early 70's. Away they traveled, that merry band on their adventure to another school. Where they ended up, whether they still perform today, I will never know.
I, too, took some of their riches and the riches given to me by others over the years, seeing heroes on the stage and teachers who helped me play guitar and write songs. I happily spread those riches out to all the kids I could last month. There will come a day, when one of these kids will do the same, still following in the steps of Robin Hood and his merry band.
~ Marty
http://www.waygoodmusic.com/
One of the magical parts of playing the schools would occur after the show. Usually a shy boy or girl would come up as the rest of the school was heading off to class or lunch and ask Brian and me about the bass or guitar. It would only take a glance and I knew the kid had that "look." It was the look that comes over people when they've been hooked forever by the muse of music.
I remember how it went for me as a kid. It was the Robin Hood Players, a group of performers that came from either Rockford or Chicago. Over the intercom came the fuzzy, disembodied voice of Sister Dorothea: "Boys and girls, there will be an assembly program today at 2:00 in the auditorium. Best behavior please!"
I would count down the minutes until we all lined up and threaded our way down the dark halls of St. Mary's School, with the smell of oil-polished wood filling our nostrils and the buzzing of dim overhead florescent lighting making us all look anemic. We thumped down the stairs which creaked in protest from each well-worn step as we headed to the assembly hall, teachers looking at us with the death stare if we dared talked or thumped a step too hard. Into the doors of the ancient auditorium and there it was, the stage set up with a minimum of scenery and whatever lighting could be coaxed from a light board that probably Edison himself installed.
Onto the stage strode the Robin Hood Players. And I was hooked. They acted, they sang, they improvised. I can hardly remember what happened on stage - something about a fairy tale - but I remember clearly how they were on stage. I could tell that those people, who I thought of as big adults but almost certainly were just out of college, loved performing. I remember laughing and feeling caught in some sort of spell. It was if I were seeing with my eyes one thing, while being told in my heart another thing. The show went on as my heart was saying, "You could do this too!"
Over the years, I would have that affirmation again and again, like the time Russian singers and dancers came to the Woodstock Opera House and performed their traditional music. This was prior to the opera house's beautiful restoration, with lumpy seats and a huge hole in the peeling ceiling in which a pigeon observed the performance along with our sparse audience. And the Cossack (I imagined he must be a Cossack) took out his dagger and drove it into the stage floor on the last step of his dance. It quivered there as he held out his arms to the applause. I was seeing one thing with my eyes, but hearing another thing in my heart. "This is life, and this is joy. Pursue it."
I remember these events so much more than the hours of television I watched. Of course I remember the Batman show, when Robin had his arm caught in a giant clam. And The Monkees, when Peter sold his soul to the Devil to play the harp, but found out he had the ability to make music in him all along. But that stuff was television. These performances were real, in my face and in the moment. I was nine years old and I was hooked.
We filed out of the auditorium after the Robin Hood players took their last bow and the old velvet curtains slowly strained their way to a sloppy, dusty close. I waited for the bus to come and take me back home. One of the Robin Hood players, a young man, came striding into Sr. Dorothea's office. There she slowly wrote him a check and he thanked her profusely. She smiled back, her thin veil a bit offset on her gray head. I watched him then bound down the steps of our school and out to the waiting van. With a wave to us gawking kids, they were off. I was hooked.
Now, almost 40 years later, I am coming into the schools to play music for kids. These kids have so much more coming at them than I did. I grew up with Etch a Sketch as one of the more technically challenging devices. They have I-Pods, video games, a myriad of sports, Kindles, Facebook, Myspace and whatever else new that is happening on the computer. But here we were, with our hand-crafted instruments, our small sound system and the one-on-one chance of bringing a spark of interest in music to 9,000 kids. I know all 9,000 heard us. But one or two were looking with their eyes, listening with their hearts, and were hooked.
We need live music. Not the "go to the big concert" type either. We need the independent groups that come to the towns and come into the schools, the opera houses and the libraries, the groups that touch souls first. The groups that still play old standards and originals that will never be heard on the Grammys, musicians and artists who prove that joy wins out in the end. These people are still out there in spite of whatever commercial roadblocks and pitfalls have been thrown in our modern, recessive times. And they survive because other people have seen with their eyes and heard with their hearts and have made a financial effort to keep the arts alive.
Robin Hood took from the rich and gave to the poor. Or so the story goes. But the Robin Hood Players knowingly or unknowingly took their riches and gave them to me that fall day back in the early 70's. Away they traveled, that merry band on their adventure to another school. Where they ended up, whether they still perform today, I will never know.
I, too, took some of their riches and the riches given to me by others over the years, seeing heroes on the stage and teachers who helped me play guitar and write songs. I happily spread those riches out to all the kids I could last month. There will come a day, when one of these kids will do the same, still following in the steps of Robin Hood and his merry band.
~ Marty
http://www.waygoodmusic.com/
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