To STeam or not to STeam

Well, that is the question.  Are you a STeamer?  You might be asking what exactly that means.  If you are ready to do that little (or big) extra to insure the success of Switchback then you are ready to STeam.  Perhaps you can hang posters and hand out flyers about upcoming concerts and events.  Start a phone tree in your area to spread the word about a concert.  Contact your local PBS station about airing the Celtic or Americana Sessions.  Let your local radio station know you would like to hear Switchback. Help out at concerts.  That merchandise doesn't sell itself, and Marty and Brian have enough to do without having to sell shirts and CDs!

Many of you are already STeaming and some of you have yet to join the team officially, but this is census time.  We need an accurate count of who you are, where you are, and how to reach you. I encourage all of you to get on Facebook.  Once there, please like both the Switchback page and the Switchback STeam page.  Post a comment or a message on the Switchback STeam page and I will send you a message.  Or post a message on the page with your info and I will retrieve and contact you.  Facebook is really the best way to keep up with all that is happening with Switchback.

If you just don’t want to deal with Facebook please send an email to me at switchbacksteam@gmail.com  and I will contact you.  Please reach out even if you have been a Steamer forever because we need to know who is still active and that the information we have for you is correct.  I hope to be getting lots of posts, likes, and emails!

Michele Shubitowski, STeam president

Hogwarts on the Mississippi

By Martin McCormack

Magic: The power of apparently influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces

Last fall, at the gentle urging of my wife, we headed to the theater to catch the last Harry Potter movie.  Having never read the books, I nonetheless was entertained by the whole fixation with magic during the movie:  people pointing wands at others and making huge fireballs of blue light and of course the juxtaposition of good versus evil.  Good wins out in the end and we muggles are none the wiser for it.
  
As children’s entertainment the movie was great.  But I left the theater feeling frustrated that magic is presented as something that is almost unattainable, especially if you’re an ordinary mugwump of a muggle.  Also, I think most moviegoers would believe that magic is just a special effect or a simple trick. 

Magic is here. It is not in the hands of magicians but in the minds of musicians and specifically songwriters.  Recently I was told the story of Sixto Rodriguez, a musician who had a couple of albums out during the 60’s and was basically considered a has-been.  The records he penned though resonated with people and unbeknownst to him were picked up by the anti-apartheid movement in South Africa.  Several of his songs became anthems that literally united the movement that brought down the regime.  He didn’t even know that he had platinum records until his daughter came across a website set up by ardent South African fans to find out what had happened to him. Had he never known his belated fame, it would not have mattered, for the result was the same. Sixto, an ordinary muggle, created magic.
                         
Of course, this magic has happened before.  Julia Ward Howe is a name that most people have never heard, yet she created magic that changed the face of America.  During the Civil War, Howe heard a melody that was being sung by the Union Troops.  The melody was Canaan’s Happy Shore turned into a parody called John Brown’s Body.  Ward heard a division of soldiers singing the tune as they were tramping by her home in Kentucky.  She went to bed and during the early morning, she awakened and, according to her book Reminiscences, said that she started to write a song.  She realized that she had to get up and put it on paper “lest I fall asleep again and forget them.  I sprang out of bed and found in the dimness an old stump of a pen which I remembered to have used the day before.” She wrote down one of the most influential songs of that era and the Civil Rights era, The Battle Hymn of the Republic.

The power to change life as we know it exists in each of us.  If magic is using the means of channeling mysterious or supernatural forces to create change, then the songwriter is more of a magician than any Harry Potter.
  
And it doesn’t have to be an anthem to change the world either.  “Heartbreak Hotel” was written by Tommy Durden and Mae Boren Axten.  The lyrics were based on a true story of a young man who killed himself over a lost love.  It took one Elvis Presley to sing it, true, but it was the song itself that launched a whole new era of Rock n’ Roll.  A young man listening to that song on Radio Luxembourg was so transfixed that he started penning songs to influence other people.  His name was John Lennon.

Some magicians are lighthearted Merlins.  Their magic-making is just as important for bringing joy into the world.  When a hip hop musician who goes by the name Baauer released a song called Harlem Shake, it went viral on the internet.   As far as lyrics go? Well, growling lions and samplings of lyrics from other songs, which by themselves are as nonsensical as a Bob Dylan tune.  But it is now a meme on the internet, with people doing various renditions of the song and dancing to it.  A crew of Australian miners was actually fired for doing their version several hundred feet underground.  Baauer’s magic brought people around the world just that much closer.  He magically transformed everyday adults back into children.  Powerful stuff. 

Songwriting is magic.  It is an art in which one channels the power necessary to change life as we know it.  That magic resides in each of us.  And each of us needs to get that magic working.
  
That is why each April we have, for muggles everywhere, the Songwriters Weekend at our own Hogwarts on the Mississippi, the Four Mounds Estate.  We tap into the natural beauty of the river and the surrounding highlands.  We look to each other for support as we explore what words can mingle with what melody.  People of all ages who come from all walks of life suddenly are transformed into magicians with the ability to create one of the most powerful elements on earth, a song.  Our magic wands?  Guitars, computers, pens, paper, harmonicas, zithers, and our voices.

This year we have Kevin Gordon joining us as our head songwriter.   Kevin has written songs that have been covered by people such as the Rolling Stones’ Keith Richards.  To watch Kevin perform his music is magic in itself; to have the chance to talk to him about creating songs will be an even greater opportunity for us aspiring magicians. 
 
We also make it very clear that one can attend and just enjoy the making of this magic in and of itself.  For in order for magic to succeed there have to be people willing to accept this magic.  The world is as much in need of song lovers as it is of songwriters.  Being at this weekend allows us all to participate in the joy of making music.  And making magic that even Harry Potter would envy.

WayGoodMusic.com

Switchback Visits the Southwest

From Cactus to St. Practice

A note from Martin McCormack

The temperature in Chicago dipped way below freezing as Brian and I headed through the air for Phoenix’s Sky Harbor airport.  We were on our way to play some shows in the sunny southwest.  With our wives left to handle the deep freeze, we both felt a bit guilty as we landed to summer-like temperatures.  Outside the plane, the baggage handlers all had shorts on and appeared to enjoy their work as they happily slapped our luggage and my bass guitar onto the baggage cart.  The sky was a pure blue, and almost immediately the memory of snow and cold vaporized along with spousal guilt into a blissful reunion with summertime.

A Switchback fan and friend, Norm Weitzman, was there to pick us up and was gracious enough to let us crash at his home in Scottsdale.  Norm is a snowbird, someone who leaves their northern digs as soon as the last leaf falls and stays south until the first leaf buds. Over the next week we were to discover that there are hundreds of thousands of these folks living in the strange but wonderful world of Snowbirddom.  These places are all over the Phoenix area, from upscale gated villages with waterfalls of reclaimed grey water to towns of carefully manicured trailers, where the median age is 70 and you better know a thing or two about pickleball.

Norm drove us around to a place where fans Donna and Bill Miner from Ohio had moved. They’re the hardier stock, the “year-rounders” who stay south during the summer and get to see why Phoenix is also called “The Valley of the Sun.”   Even on a late January day, the sun penetrates and I was surprised to find that I was getting warm as we cruised into their village in Norm’s convertible with the top down.  American flags and Canadian flags festooned the drive and there were even what you could call North American flags, which some enterprising person created by sewing half a Canadian and half an American flag together.  The energy was part resort, part retirement community, and all Mayberry, RFD. 

Irish Cultural Center in Phoenix

After visiting with Donna and Bill we headed to the Phoenix Irish Cultural Center and introduced ourselves there.  This has to be one of the most beautiful cultural centers ever built, with replicas of a Norman tower home and Irish cottages.   We met with Mary, the director, who discussed the possibility of our playing an event there, and with Pat McCrossan, who is the local artisan and director of music at the cultural center.  Pat gave us a tour of the rehearsal rooms and told us how his top Irish speaker and instructor was a Mexican-American lady who fell in love with the language!

Our percussionist Keith Riker drove down from Colorado with his pickup and trailer. Exhausted from the drive, he nearly expanded Norm’s garage into the neighbor’s as he backed in.  We got him unpacked and settled at Norm’s hacienda, and after having a nice dinner, we made plans for a group hike in the Sonoran Desert.  Keith, who has a love of all things southwest, explained to me that the Sonoran Desert is the one that has the saguaro cactus. Those are the cacti one would see in the Road Runner cartoons. They truly are something to see.  The desert itself is incredibly diverse, with a lot various types of cacti, small trees, and even some stubborn flowers.   The ground is pretty much rock, from boulders to pebbles, all haphazardly strewn as if a bored giant tossed them there.

In the Sonoran Desert

We took advantage of our one free day to do some hiking with Norm.  Almost immediately we lost Keith, who took off like a greyhound down the path to reunite with the saguaro.   It was a five mile hike and we passed by people of all ages enjoying the desert.  One English gentleman huffed and puffed by us muttering, “This is like the bloody Bataan death march.”  It was not the easiest trail due to the rocks, but all in all one could stop, rest, and look out over the view of Phoenix and marvel at those amazing saguaros.  By the time Brian, Norm, and I came in to the trailhead, Keith was blissfully watching us come in, his love affair with the Sonoran reignited.

The next day we bid Norm adieu and headed south toward Green Valley.  Green Valley sits in what is called the Chihuahuan Desert, which has more yucca plants along with some grass and scrub.  It is about 30 miles north of the Mexican border and so we were immediately aware of Border Patrol vehicles all around.  Brian’s Aunt Gail lives in Green Valley, and we were welcomed immediately for a nice lunch at the “19th hole.”   Most folks were retirees; in fact, all the folks in the restaurant were retirees, except for the very pleasant staff.

Green Valley, Arizona performance center

Our evening performance took place at the West Social Center.  All the seats in the theater were taken and we had a great sound check.  I had to laugh when we discovered we were to perform an American Roots-Celtic Show program as I had thought the evening was strictly Irish music.  Keith, Brian, and I changed our set list literally minutes before curtain. The folks in charge of the theater were top-notch and we felt very welcomed.   We ended up performing two encores.  One lady couldn’t get enough of Keith.  “Stand up,” she said, “I wanna see ya.”  Keith good-naturedly stood on top of his cajon, which is a wooden percussion box. The audience laughed and clapped for him.

As we headed back to the hotel for the evening, we noticed low flying helicopters in the sky. The desert mountains had a coating of snow at their crests, and it was fairly chilly for that far south.  I thought about all the people who try to cross the desert.  So many die of thirst and heat, but I think winter could be just as bad. The desert truly is friends with no one, I concluded.

We drove onward the next day, heading toward our show in Colorado Springs.  It was a travel day, and so we started out by taking a dirt road that led us through the backcountry of Green Valley.  The area is open range, and every so often we would come upon an Angus standing in the middle of the road and staring as if we were a round bale of hay.  Keith would roll down the window and say, “Hey there, lady,” and that was enough to get the cow moving.  Keith also pointed out the century plant, a cactus-like creation that spends its energy making one blossoming shoot.  It takes years and once bloomed, that is essentially it for the plant.  Up the hillside stood the ghostly stems of past plants.

We made it back onto blacktop and turned off a little overlook.  Here, the signs of illegal immigration were all around, discarded bottles, food containers, and some other items of human existence were strewn about in a mess.  It was a shock to the eye as it jarred with the stark beauty of the desert.  We quickly returned to the truck and headed across Arizona to New Mexico.  Our route paralleled the border, and we watched unmanned blimps stationed over the border.  Our travel into New Mexico was interrupted by a border checkpoint.  A young guy dressed in military fatigues asked us if we were U.S. citizens. “Yup,” said Keith and we drove on.  It felt a long way from Chicago at that point.

Hatch, New Mexico, the Chile Capital of the World

Heading north we stopped off in the famous town of Hatch to fill up on gas and take in the fields that lie alongside the Rio Grande River.  These are the fields that grow the famous Hatch chilies that once roasted are divine additions to any chili, picante sauce, huevos rancheros, you name it.  Brian and I usually try to head back to the Midwest with a bag or two of these.  Along the street there were stores that sold many different kinds of chilies. I wanted to hang around for a longer time and inspect each shop, but the road beckoned and we had to make tracks north to Albuquerque.

Brian with his Aunt Alice and cousins

Brian’s cousins welcomed us to Albuquerque, and we got to meet another side of the FitzGerald clan.  Nora and her husband Alex have a beautiful adobe that looks over the foothills that surround the area.   We spent the night all camped out on their living room floor, and after a nice breakfast and some coffee we headed north to Colorado Springs.

Keith made a detour so we could visit the town of Santa Fe.   I totally fell in love with this historic community.  It has a huge plaza that is filled with western art galleries, boutiques, and Navaho artisans out plying their silverwork.  Houses were festooned with dried bunches of chilies, and the close, clustered adobe structures were beautiful.  Keith pointed out that there are two styles of adobe. One is called Colonial, which were built during the time the Spanish were in charge of the region, and the other is Southwest Territorial, which were built during the time New Mexico was a territory of the United States.  The former has thick walls, old unpainted wooden doors with thick iron hinges, and windows placed deep into the walls.  The latter has every window and door framed in painted white wood and has painted doors.  Both homes have clay tile roofs which gives the overall neighborhood a romantic feeling.  I wished we had more time there but we had to keep moving north.

We arrived in Colorado Springs for our concert.  Owners John and Cindy Hooton have taken this theater which was built in the 1950’s and lovingly restored it.  The acoustics are wonderful as the building itself is basically a dome.   We decided to put on a “St. Practice Day” sort of concert featuring Switchback Irish originals and traditional Celtic music.  Joining us were the members of the Celtic Steps, a great group of Irish dancers.  These young people had just come from a competition earlier that day and were heading for the world championships in about a month.  They wowed the audience and us with their fantastic steps.  We certainly want to work with them again the next time we visit Colorado.  The audience was treated to a very intimate concert of the Rocky Mountain Combo, featuring some fancy spoon work by Keith.  We ended the evening hanging out in the lobby with the audience and talking about music and Colorado and handing out blinking buttons.

We had breakfast with long time STeam member Cathy Osmundson, who had recently moved to Colorado with her boyfriend.  Cathy has been a great help in working with Switchback over the years.  As part of STeam she has personally put up posters, contacted radio stations and hit the phone lines to get people to come to our shows.  We are fortunate that she is now in one of the states we often tour.  I like to say that Switchback is only as good as our volunteer organization STeam.  It’s always an added pleasure to our travels when we are able to meet Switchback friends along the way.

United States Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs

We then visited with our friend Candyce who is the manager for the Air Force Academy’s cultural arts and entertainment.  It was a great afternoon visiting the Academy and seeing firsthand the challenges of providing entertainment for 4000 plus cadets and staff.  The Academy is basically a town unto itself and is both inspiring and overwhelming at the same time.   We spent some time visiting some of the more famous parts of the Academy, such as the “spires” which houses the various places of worship.  Candyce is a living example of the high caliber of person that comes from the Academy.  Her husband was lost in Vietnam and her son is now a “full-bird” colonel in the Air Force.  She looks on all the cadets as her kids.  We talked about Falling Water River Symphony as a performance at the Academy.  We hope we get the chance.

With Candyce at the U.S. Air Force Academy

It had been a great tour; we were pretty tired the next day as we battled traffic to Denver International Airport.  We saluted our brother Keith, grabbed our bags, and scurried into a huge mass of humanity, most of whom were carrying ski bags. 
  
We missed our flight and were next outbound on a jet that took us first to Minneapolis. There it was -- the snow, the cold, the baggage handlers all bundled up and looking pretty ornery, clouds of breath mingling with the heat of the jets.  At last we continued on to Chicago, happy to be back to our wives and content to contend with the Midwest winter.

   

WayGoodMusic.com

Flaming Pie

A note to the Switchback Team

Back in February, we wrote about Kevin Kelly’s article on 1000 True Fans.  To recap, Kelly’s theory states that a band needs 1000 True Fans to sustain their career.  As STeamers, you are those True Fans.  We defined a member of the Switchback Team as “a person who has decided to make Switchback a personal part of their lives.”  In other words, you are working with us to help further our musical mission of touching as many souls in a positive way through our concerts, outreach programs to schools and nursing homes, and through our CDs and DVDs.

In the February article, we also stated that we have a problem in the WayGood World.  We’ve identified only 50 STeamers who are active, you being one of them hopefully.  That means to fulfill Kelly’s theory, we need to recruit 950 more STeamers.

To help us grow and sustain the WayGood World, we need to identify and find more STeamers.  It’s just that simple.  And this newsletter is our lifeline to you, our faithful Steamers, as it and the Facebook site are the only active means of communication with all 50 of you.   If we had each of you in one state, that might be a start, but our STeamers are far flung.  For fun, we created a map of the world and here’s where our STeamers reside currently:

As you can see, it’s fairly lopsided.   What to do when considering we need to add 19 people for each one you?  Let’s start with four.  Like the Beatles....if you can help us find a “Fab Four” in each of your neighborhoods, that would be a great start for this year.  You do that by identifying friends who support a cause.  The WayGood World is certainly a cause, as our mission is “to touch as many souls as possible in a positive way through our music.”   Playing our music is a start.  Giving our music as a gift, inviting them to a show, getting them a Switchback t-shirt, inviting them to comment on Facebook online, and meeting with them to strategize a house concert for Switchback are all means of helping us build the support network needed for STeam.  

As always, we welcome your thoughts on the STeam page of Facebook.

A very big thank you to Tom and Maureen Hutchcroft.
They stepped up and filled in at the last minute at the Keokuk Depot show.
They are new STeamers and never worked a show before!

  

You May Say I'm a Dreamer

The first thing I noticed was four air-freshener pine trees hanging from the rearview mirror.  Each seemed to have its own scent which gave the van an overpowering smell of a detergent factory.  We were at LaGuardia Airport and had waited for a van transport to the Sheraton Hotel.  This fragrant Ford was it.  

New York City

Brian and I handed the driver (an ill-shaved guy our age, wearing a military jacket, dark knit hat, and a bored expression) our guitars and suitcases and the Switchback banner.  He slowly stacked them haphazardly in the back of the van.  A lady and her daughter from North Carolina came up with two huge suitcases for the driver to load.  They were cheerfully gesturing at pamphlets for Broadway shows.  The driver mumbled something, checked their names on his list, pulled a quick drag on his cigarette, and prepared to heft their bags on top of all our equipment.  Brian quickly took his guitar out of back of the van and sat with it in his lap.  Moments later we, the mom and daughter, a Chinese student, a lady from Brazil, and two women in the front seat (who never talked but looked straight ahead the whole time) all watched the air-fresheners sway to and fro as we sputtered along the expressway to our various hotels in the magical land they call New York City.

Brian and I were in town for a convention called APAP, which is short for the Association of Performing Arts Presenters.  They describe themselves as a “national service and advocacy organization with more than 1,500 members worldwide, dedicated to developing and supporting a robust performing arts presenting field and the professionals who work within it.”   In other words, we were in town to see if we could get some work along with the other 1,498 members.

Those fans who have been with us from the early days of Switchback can recall seeing us play at a pub on a Sunday night for a price of a beer or even free at a suburban block party on a sweltering summer day.  Twenty years later, we now are playing venues that are called Performing Arts Centers or PAC’s for short.   PAC’s are mainly theaters and range in size from small-town historic vaudeville stops to gleaming steel and glass works of art that present artists like us within their walls.  They charge a ticket price and we present our music, unmolested by flying beer cans and car alarms.   The common denominator is that they are manned (and wo-manned) by people who have dedicated themselves as much as we have to a dream that the good of the world can be fueled by the arts.  And so we all were in New York, some dreaming of “the act” that will bring people to their venue and the rest of us dreaming we are that act.  

The epicenter of APAP was the Hilton Hotel.  The theme of the event was “Imagine,” a nod to John Lennon’s vision of a utopian world and that (to APAP’s amazement) was incidentally written in the very hotel the convention was taking place.  All in all this great synchronicity did give Brian and me a glimpse of what Mr. Lennon may just have been thinking when he penned his masterpiece.  

If the convention’s three floors of football field-sized exhibit halls were magically turned into an ocean reef, Switchback would have been the little minnow that was swimming amongst some pretty amazing fish.  Big fish like Judy Collins, Cirque du Soleil, and the venerated Willie Nelson.  Or fish that were tributes to other fish, like a tribute to Chicago that sounded just like Chicago but wasn’t.  Then there were schools of elegant, beautiful fish, dance companies from the world over, graceful, imaginative, and colorful in dress.   Finally there were the angelfish and clownfish that one couldn’t help but enjoy seeing:  Annie, a beautiful woman who created a golden praying mantis costume and would strike poses in her exhibit booth, not far from Joshua, who did one man acts of Victor Hugo.  There was Kathleen, a friendly red-headed French-Canadian who fell in love with a group of Serbian singers who were on tour from the UK and was now producing them.  Three guys huddled at their booth presenting a drama all about Ernest Shackleton and the Endurance, and there was Mister Mojo and his Zydeco.  Every conceivable type of entertainment from around the world, darting and displaying on this great reef called APAP.  

And the agents who represented them were like fishing guides.  There would be powerful big agencies like Columbia Artists, who could give you any contemporary musical act provided your budget is right, and smaller agents who carry smaller acts like Suzanne Vega or the Thai Dancers.  And smaller agents with lesser known acts (but perhaps acts with a bit more intrigue to them), and then the folks like us, who represent, well, us.     

Switchback with fellow musicians

Terrance Simien and the Zydeco Experience

Finally there are the presenters, those venues I described, small venues to large, big city complexes, each having a unique need.  These people were the fishermen who would stroll up and down the aisles of booths, looking for an act to land.   If they did their homework and were interested in you, they would stop by to introduce themselves.  Or if the presenters knew exactly what or who they were looking for, they would cover their identification badge with a notebook and stare straight ahead like the two ladies in the fragrant Ford as they glided by, not giving you a second look.   

Some agents and presenters have been friends for years, and so a little minnow like us didn’t have a chance this time to catch their attention.  But if you walked over to the deli for lunch, you might just happen to strike up a conversation with someone who was a big agent.  At the end of the conversation you found out that they are people like you.  Business is business, and you have to be confident in what you do and who you are. But by and large, in spite of the seeming roadblocks, I noticed that the majority of people there were people who respected each other for keeping the dream alive.  The dream that the world can become a better place because of art.  Sure, we all have different ideas of how to achieve that dream, but that didn’t mean that Switchback had any less significance than Death Cab for Cutie.  We were all at our levels on the big reef.  And Brian and I relaxed and enjoyed ourselves.

Marty and Brian with Karen Knotts, daughter of Don Knotts

We didn’t know who we would see there either.  One of the best moments was meeting the daughter of Don Knotts (the patron saint of Switchback humor) at the Sheraton Starbucks.  Brian gave Karen Knotts a kiss on the cheek and told her, “Your dad has given so much joy to the world, and I can’t tell you how much he has made our road trips bearable.”  Brian is always quoting Don Knotts’ movie quips or doing a Barney Fife move when faced with a blown-out tire or odd interview.  Here she was, Don Knott’s daughter, pitching a one-woman show of growing up with the King of Cornball.   We walked away feeling like we met the daughter of the Dali Lama.

We did three showcases in a hotel room at the Hilton.  Doing a showcase is like trying to dress from a suitcase that you just jumped out of a plane with.  You have 15 minutes or less to convey to those in attendance that you have talent, personality, and the ability to be an act they can use at their venue.  Our showcase was in the JP Morgan Room, which I found kind of funny because he was somewhat thought of as a rich but stingy curmudgeon with little personality.  In the JP Morgan Room all the showcases were rich, but the room was fairly spartan, with just incandescent lighting, stage, and chairs.  “If you like us in this hotel room,” I told the audience, “You’ll love us on your stage.”

Down the hall, the showcases took a different tack.  There was a complete ballroom with theater lighting, a full sound system, hors d’oeuvres and wine, and the Turtle Island Quartet with Nellie McKay playing to a full house.   It didn’t take much imagination to see these guys playing at a venue.  But one didn’t know if the people in the chairs were there for the act, the wine, the food, or even if they had just wandered in off the street.  At least at our showcase we knew we had people there who were interested in what we had to offer.  

Not all people were there to book or sell acts.  One gentleman represented a record label in Montreal.  Another was reinvigorating a New Jersey town by turning it into a real artist community, complete with living spaces for artists and theaters for them to perform in!  Some were lawyers, looking for international acts that need visa applications for the United States, and some were looking to create crisis plans for venues in the event of any kind of emergency.

Tom Purcell and Dave Heuvelman with Marty

When it all got too much, Brian and I would walk down to Times Square and stare at the LED-lit altars of advertising.  The brilliance and sheer commercialism of this Manhattan Midway selling gleaming bottles of Corona beer, mascara, and Volvos were enough to make one long for the safety of the reef back in the exhibit hall.  We hung out with our buddies Tom Purcell and Dave Heuvelman, both entertainers who live in New York. They skillfully guided us through Hell’s Kitchen and past homeless guys asking for change, sidewalk preachers asking for your soul, and really dressed up ladies asking for something completely different.

Finally, the swirl and buzz of the convention came to an end.   About an hour before the exhibit hall closed, people started getting a bit giddy.  One booth would pack up and head off, then another.  The fishing guides were long gone, off to lounges to talk to presenters about pricing for this act or that.  We said goodbye to the long-legged dancer in the sea-foam pants and Annie the praying mantis lady and her husband Allyn the balloon god.   We bid our neighbors goodbye and headed off for LaGuardia.  

The doorman at the Sheraton whistled down a cab.  Out jumped this smartly dressed guy wearing a suit, tie, and slacks.  “You’re not a regular cabby,” I said to this guy.  “Yes, I am,” he said in a Brooklyn accent and proceeded to tell us that he dressed for his job because he has pride in everything he does.  That caught our attention and for $40 and change, Harry talked to us about his life as a cab driver in New York.   He worked for the Astoria cab company and if you get to the Big Apple, request him as your driver as he was worth every penny of the drive.  It occurred to me that Harry was exactly like us, taking pride in what he was doing and making a dream come true.  His very act of driving the cab with kindness was exactly the same as performing with the goal of touching souls.  And making the world a better place.  He was an entertainer behind the wheel and we his grateful audience.

We shook Harry’s hand and headed to our gate to wait for the flight back to Chicago.  I sat there at the airport lounge, vigilant to keep the cockroaches away from our carry-ons, and thought about the week.  Brian took an opportunity for a quick nap and leaned back with his fedora shading his eyes.  The lounge was fairly empty at that late hour, with a young family keeping their child entertained and a college student who had lost his wallet over a lost weekend and was now calling the credit card company to cancel everything.   I thought of John Lennon’s song and the past few days.  How appropriate “Imagine” was for New York City, for APAP, and for the arts.  “You may I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.”  How right he was.

Writing thank you notes after APAP

SHARE THE SOUNDS OF SWITCHBACK

Fan Club President, Lynn Wise

I think that when you discover something great, you should share it with as many people as possible. As Switchback's new Fan Club President, I have been pondering how I can spread the sounds of Switchback, which leads me to my request.

During the month of February, we need to Share the Sounds of Switchback on Facebook. Don't miss your chance to participate in this great event by Sharing the Sounds of Switchback with all of your family and friends on Facebook. Just think of all the people that we can introduce to Switchback and instantly transform into Switchback fans!  If you are the fan that receives the most likes and shares you will become the proud owner of Switchback's newest CD available May, 2013.

Look for the February Facebook event "SHARE THE SOUNDS OF SWITCHBACK" and share your way to Switchback's newest CD available in May. 

STEAM NEWS - Are you a good witch?

A note from STeam president, Michele Shubitowski

This is a topic that I am going to be coming back to time and again, as it will take more than just one article to fully explain it.  It has everything to do with the music, the role you play in being part of the Switchback Team, and finally the people out there who have heard of Switchback and consider themselves fans.    

There is a theory that was put forth by Wired Magazine writer Kevin Kelly that an independent artist such as Switchback can make a living by acquiring a following of what he calls 1000 true fans.  On his blog post  Kelly describes a true fan as this:

A True Fan is defined as someone who will purchase anything and everything you produce. They will drive 200 miles to see you sing. They will buy the super deluxe re-issued hi-res box set of your stuff even though they have the low-res version. They have a Google Alert set for your name. They bookmark the eBay page where your out-of-print editions show up. They come to your openings. They have you sign their copies. They buy the t-shirt, and the mug, and the hat. They can't wait till you issue your next work. They are true fans.

So at some point, you became as a STeamer what I would consider a true fan.  In the WayGood World, we may take that a step further and define our true fans (STeamers) as those who:

• actively promote Switchback in their neighborhoods
• creates opportunities in their neighborhoods for Switchback to perform
• allow Switchback to stay at their homes, providing a comfortable atmosphere that hotels can never duplicate
• actively pursue radio stations in their neighborhoods to play Switchback
• actively recruit others to become casual fans of Switchback

There are of course many more items that can be added to that list, but the concept can be summed up in a phrase: “A STeamer is a person who has decided to make Switchback a personal part of their lives.”  You have a relationship with the band, on a level that goes beyond that of a person who may have heard Switchback at a festival and occasionally follows the posts on Facebook.  That is a casual fan.  And that is where we in the WayGood World have a problem.  

According to our mailing list, we have fewer than 50 active STeamers.  You are receiving this newsletter because at some point you identified yourself as a STeamer, had been asked to join the team, or were deemed someone of STeam timber.  Just like Glinda in the Wizard of Oz, we agreed that you are good witch and worthy of the ruby slippers.

So, if we take Kevin Kelly’s theory to heart and say Switchback needs 1000 true fans to be successful, then we need 950 more STeamers to make Switchback a true success.  My friends, we have work to do.  Do you have the commitment to help us find and recruit people to become fans of the band?  Do you have what it takes to be a true fan of Switchback, a STeamer?  That’s a question we can’t answer.  But we need your help, your time, and your involvement.  Because getting 1000 true fans is only half the story...more on that later.

We encourage you to read the blog by Kevin Kelly and welcome feedback on this issue.  If 2013 is to be the year Switchback breaks it big, we have to have more STeamers on board. Will you help to make that happen?  Are you a good witch?

Travelin' Down an Irish Road

Although I love to travel I have always avoided going on a group tour.  What if I didn't get the chance to do what I wanted to do?  What if the others on the tour were boring or whiney or obnoxious?  However, I love Ireland and I love Switchback!  And really, could other Switchback fans actually turn out to be boring, whiney, or obnoxious?  So this year for the first time I decided to travel down an Irish road with Switchback.

Clearly my fears were groundless.  Right from the beginning when meeting my fellow travelers at O'Hare Airport, I knew that this was going to be a fun group of folks to spend a week with.

Our tour guide Mick met us at Dublin Airport.  This was Mick's fourth tour with Switchback.  As we traveled down those Irish roads, Mick was a fountain of information.  He told us not just
about the countryside we were seeing but also about Irish history, Irish sports, tinkers and fairies, complete with pictures and written information.  No guide book is needed when you have Mick telling you about Ireland.  To quote him, "Gee, Mick, fascinatin' stuff!"  And really it was.  Would I have known about fairy circles and fairy trees if I had been driving myself around Ireland?  I think not.

Our tour base this trip was Kinsale, a lovely town in southwest Ireland.  Our hotel was right on the harbor with all our rooms overlooking the water.  From there we made excursions including a drive to Waterford on a beautiful sunny day (yes, the sun shines in Ireland!), a full day excursion driving through the lovely lonely countryside of the Beara peninsula, and a trip to Blarney to kiss the stone.  Because nothing is required on a Switchback tour we were free to be as busy or lazy as we wished.  Want to do absolutely everything offered and pack it all in?  Go for it!  This was my style.  Want to stay in town and stroll the streets and shop or relax in the pub with a pint of Guinness and a good whiskey instead?  Feel totally free to do so.

Of course no Switchback tour could possibly be complete without some Switchback concerts.  We enjoyed three wonderful concerts.  The first was in Cobh, a historic coastal town which was the center of emigration for thousands of Irish.  The entire tour group was joined by some local Cobh residents for an evening of music.  Our second concert was at De Barra's Folk Music Club in Clonakilty, a fascinating pub and performance venue, and a great time was had by all.

We finished the trip with two nights at Cabra Castle, about an hour north of Dublin, with the chance to spend a day and a half exploring the fair city of Dublin.

Cabra Castle was a lovely place full of atmosphere including Oscar, the resident Irish wolfhound.  Our last evening concluded with a group dinner which included the prize winners of the yearly limerick contest (I am proud to claim 2^nd place!) and a final concert by Switchback.

All too soon we were back at Dublin Airport boarding a plane for Chicago.  It truly was a week of good times with excellent food, excellent beer, great whiskey, fabulous music and the camaraderie of new-found friends.  I can't wait until next year when our base of operations will be Donegal.  Come enjoy the north of Ireland with Switchback and friends.

Michele Shubutowski

Switchback Team (STeam) President

Caving In to Fame

Recently Brian and I attended the Midwestern Arts Conference out in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It was an opportunity for performing arts center directors from around the country to meet artists hoping to play those centers. Luckily, we have had the chance to perform at a lot of them and have made some outstanding friends of those who direct these bastions of live music.

One such friend, David Fink, director of the Acorn Theater in Three Oaks, Michigan, delivered a remark that really got me thinking. Saying that people are not really truthful when it comes to what would get them to a live music show, he remarked, “You either have to offer someone famous or have a burlesque show to get people to come out." I looked at him to see if he was joking. He was not.   

If one looks at burlesque as the need to arouse the forbidden curiosity in people, I would say David is right.  The runaway popularity of reality television shows certainly provides proof that most people lean toward titillation.  And he’s right about fame.  Merriam Webster dictionary defines fame as a) widely known and b) honored for achievement.  Facebook and YouTube are certainly rife with examples of people searching to be widely known or honored for achieving something, even if it is posting a video of their cat flushing the toilet.  A person who is acknowledged to be famous and has a following of the masses, even an association with something famous, such as being in a movie or play, gets a following.  

So what is a band like ours to do? I pondered this as we started setting up for the cave concert at the Natural Gait. We had no idea how many people would show. Certainly they would not be coming out to see any burlesque. Thank God! As Herb started the tractor to pull a basket holding Nick’s drums on a rope and pulley system up the hill, I thought about fame.

Being famous was never part of the agenda for Brian and me. But why do people come out to see us play? How can we assure festivals and performing arts centers, who are literally looking for “the bottom line,” that we have the draw to bring people in?  It is a dilemma.

Walking up the steep hillside to the cave, I thought back to one evening in the early days when Brian and I played a very empty coffee house in Oak Park. The owner looked at us with something just short of contempt as we started to play to no one.  Finally, three people came in the door after I fervently prayed to God to please get some people to come to the show. The three came in, sat down and started doing sign-language to each other. God does have a sense of humor.

However, being a musician is always about playing for people, touching their souls. That is what matters most no matter what size the crowd. I never really thought about fame, but I did hope that people would come out to hear our music and be moved enough to come out again and bring “twenty of their closest friends.” So the WayGood World came into existence, based on the truth that anyone who believes in our music can certainly help us get it out to others and share in the adventure of music and community. You can play music in an empty room, but you are really making music when you share it with others who complete the necessary circle.

Natural Gait owner Howard Bright had started a fire earlier that day up at the cave and now it was down to red coals with a thin wisp of smoke trailing up and out of the cave and through the woods. The trees were starting to change color and the air was cool.  I thought about the Native Americans who once lived in this cave. Was their best hunter or best moccasin maker “famous”? What was being "widely known" like back then? Did it matter?  

People started coming up the hill. Some had seen us play at other venues and others were there to see us for the first time.  Pretty soon, about 80 people were in the audience waiting for us to start playing. The ages ranged from youngsters to several older folks who made the amazing climb to the cave. Howard got up and addressed the people about the history of the land and the cave.  We began to play and as the evening got cooler, we worked into one set after another, feeling warmer with each note produced. People got up and danced as a whole musical community was created for that night.  There, Iowa stars danced above magic made not just by us, but by our audience joining us at the concert.  

I realize that “fame” is a word with many meanings. With today’s media, being famous can be wholly manufactured by a good PR firm and enough money. For myself, I feel that having fans who believe in our music and share the journey with Switchback is reward enough. I understand though, that one can’t just have talent and succeed. That there is the business side of music and that side demands that you have a big following.  

At the end of the concert, when talking to people who come from miles away to share an evening of their time on earth with us, I can’t help but express the gratitude for friends who believe in our music. I am totally blessed by those who help spread the word about Switchback. If we are to be “well-known” and “honored for achievement,” if we all have to cave in to the business demand of fame, it will only be through the magic that is forged between us all at a concert.