Robben Ford Discussion

elizabeth

...that is exactly what they did. I have put over 1,000 miles on my car since Friday, my, um, well, behind must be shaped like my car seat, and my arms are permanently affixed in the 10 and 2 position, but the dopey smile on my face spans from ear to ear, and it feels sooooooo good.

I really love the Sierra Nevada Brewery, not just for the general manager (Bob Littell) who has GOT to be one of the world's best musical hosts (and always so kind to me!) but also because it seems to be a favorite of the Fords et al. Bob told me that when they were arranging this gig, he was asked how long they were supposed to play, and his response was, "I'd like at least a couple of hours." The Ford answer was, "Okay, we can just play a twenty-five minute version of 'East West'." But I am getting ahead of myself.

The place was sold out (it had been for weeks) and the anticipation among the crowd was palpable. I saw Robben play (Blue Moon debut) there in May of 2002, and many of the same people came last night. These are not only true-blue Ford fans but Bloomfield fans as well. I have always been impressed at the energy of an eager audience, who loves what they are about to hear, even before they hear it. Don't get me wrong; those of you who are recent Ford fans are heartily welcomed, but it reminds me of being in Italy, where people not only love their opera, but they are versed in every word, note, and nuance. Hell to pay if the tenor blows it, but man, when someone is on fire, the audience is explosive. And it was nothing less than incendiary last night.

It was obvious from moment one that everyone was in great spirits to begin, but we hadn't seen nothin' yet, folks. They opened (I think) with "Killing My Love" and Chris Cain was, as he always is, so damn much fun to watch. I have said before that I love the fact that he reminds me of this cute boy in math class, who appeared not to be paying much attention to the subject matter. (Okay, he didn't LOOK like a math person.) Once Chris starts to play, he is like a runaway train and I swear, if he played all night, he might eventually implode. His guitar playing is precise, driving, and powerful. His voice is one of those smoky, gravelly blues tones that should be in a sweaty dive somewhere, where the music just gets started around 2 am. He so obviously enjoys playing well, and seems to get such pleasure from thrilling the crowd, thus playing even harder. I get the distinct impression that everyone on the stage last night was a devoted Bloomfield fan, and I think these songs improve with the passage of time. "Maryann" was a good song thirty years ago, but last night it left my jaw hanging open.

Andy Just was on harp, and although I adore Mark Ford's playing, Andy feels right with this tribute band. He plays that low-down, dirty rotten, sexy-as-hell blues sound, and he is a driving force on stage. I am convinced that any pulmonary specialist would be more than a bit awed by his phenomenal ability to sustain notes, not to mention his prowess at juggling vocals and harp, only to be eclipsed by his playing three different harmonicas in one tune. The man is a genius.

Volker Strifler astounds me more every time I hear him. He plays with precise technical ability, but manages to erupt into complicated solos that build to warp speed, and the man never breaks a sweat. (He is awfully easy on the eyes too...sorry, I HAD to mention that...the man is gorgeous!) His vocals are strong and stinging, and my only complaint is that I wish they would turn up the volume on his amp and his microphone. He is a killer performer, whom I personally think needs to be showcased a bit more.

Sorry folks, but I cannot tell you the name of the keyboard player, but I am almost positive he was the same guy who played with them at Slim's. Very tasy electric percussion, and I have yet to hear a better electronic piano sound than a Kurzweil, which he played with nimble and agile fingering. No plug intended, but I regret the day I sold my Kurzweil; Korg makes a great keyboard, but nobody touches Kurzweil for authentic piano sound.

Dewayne Pate played bass, and I almost feel like I am part of his family, even if he does refer to me as, "THAT WOMAN!" I found myself marveling at how much he looks like the perfect amalgamation of his mom and dad. (Ooooh, there she goes with her Mommy stuff again...) I moaned that Dewayne was not given any chances to solo last night, but I was reminded that bass soloing wasn't a key element of Bloomfield's bands. I have said this before, but it deserves repeating:Pate is a fabulous bass player with some amazing tricks up his sleeves, as well as being able to fulfill the team player position he held last night with grace and elegance. Really nice guy, too (even if he does think I am crazy.) Yes, I realize that he has quite a bit of company in that area. Hey, it is part of my charm, okay?

I love a horn section; I always wanted to learn to play saxophone; I find it to have such a sexy sound. I am fairly certain I have seen the guys, who played trumpet and sax last night, before but, once again, I never remember the names once they have been announced. I am one who becomes completely immersed and lost in the music, particularly this kind of music, and I felt as if I was in a dream state last night by the end of the show. I recall the somatic and emotional sensations, but I stink as a play-by-play announcer. (Yeah, I know...I'm a pain in the ass, too.)

There is something almost elf-like to me about Patrick Ford. Friday night in Ukiah, Dewayne Pate's dad commented to him, "You know, you are the only one who seems to be working up there." We always joke about drummers, but Patrick is a first class musician, and person, as far as I am concerned. I have never seen a bad performance by any Ford family member (I don't think they are capable of mediocrity) but I have to stress that last night, Patrick played his ass off. What a treat. At the risk of mushy redundancy, seeing Ford family members play together is better than a hot fudge sundae, even with whipped cream.

Robben Ford... what can I say? Every time I see him. I think he has reached the pinnacle of his playing, but then he gets better. I realize that I have been given some fairly bizarre nicknames (that WOMAN, the stalker, the ultimate fan) but on the 3 hour ride home last night, I listened to Joni Mitchell's "Miles of Aisles" album, and the fire that emanates from Robben's guitar has only been stoked, with the addition of sophistication and finesse that come with age and wisdom. And yes, I am the quintessential Robben Ford fan, but even I admit that I am picky, discerning, and not easily impressed. Robben Ford impresses the hell out of me.

Robben switched between the black and the red Bakers last night...oh my god...where was that Tele that people mistake to be just "...some old beat-up guitar"? I guess it was at home resting, because I don't think I have seen it this tour. But I will say that Robben was wearing those gorgeous coffee and cream two-tone shoes. (You can see a photo of them on my web site if you are some kind of a fashion maven.) I really LOVE those shoes. He was wearing clothes of some kind (I don't notice those things either) but he looked relaxed and seemed to really enjoy the entire evening. (Did he roll his eyes when he saw that I was there AGAIN? Oh well, he did flash me a smile of recognition, which will keep me contented for at least a few weeks.)

My best car was a black MG-B/GT, with red leather upholstery and four-track tapedeck (thanks, Mom.) I blew out three sets of speakers listening to the Doors' first album and Butterfield's "East-West." To this day, "East-West" remains one of my all time favorite albums, with the title song earning the spot of the one song I could listen to, forever. When the Ford Brothers came out with a little taste of it on the Tribute album, I told Patrick that I would give my I-teeth to hear the full blown version. I think Chris Cain still remembers the primal scream that came from me after their performance of it in San Francisco, earlier this year. I cannot even guess how long last night's version was, but at the risk of soundinng crass, let me just say that by the end, I felt as if I had experienced the ultimate musical orgasm. It was performed with exquisite precision, each element was addressed in ecstatic detail, and all I can say is that I hope it was good for them too, because, "Wowwwweeeeeee, that was fanfuckingtastic!"

Now, my only problem is how I am going to deal with withdrawal after three days of rampant indulgence in some of the most delicious music I have consumed in years. I had too much to hear last night...too much to hear. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. How good it feels to be sated.

Very Happy