Are You Dave?

Kindiefest is a huge three-day conference in Brooklyn for folks like me: musicians with a family-oriented groove. Last night was the kickoff reception and keynote; I’m trying to read my scribbled notes from the night to see if I can make sense of them.

I rolled into Littlefield in Brooklyn at about 7:00 (after some frantic photocopying of the Fuzzy Lemons’ press material). The party had already spilled out onto the patio! It was a gorgeous evening to be sharing a beer with two hundred of your colleagues and peers.

I squeezed through to the registration table and immediately struck up a conversation with Ashley Albert of The Jimmies, who was in line right behind me. I’ve been hearing about The Jimmies for a couple of years and we just checked out their videos on WiggleNation last week–I congratulated her on how amazing they looked.

Then I made my way to the bar and met some members of a band called The Not-Its, from Seattle. About that time, Dan Zanes wandered in off the street, with his unmistakeable suit and hair. Not long after, the organizers called everyone in for some opening speeches, followed by the Keynote. I found my friend Erin Lee Kelly and followed her into the conference hall (actually a nightclub).

Dan Zanes gave a quietly inspiring speech. He started by admonishing everyone in the room to check out Pete Seeger’s “Incomplete Folksinger,” which lays a clear foundation for everything we do as family musicians. He described an experience I’m sure most of us share: going to the record store and being horribly disappointed by the Children’s selections, which mainly consisted of cartoon tie-ins. He compared that to his own childhood experience of growing up listening to those classic Folkways recordings of Woody Guthrie, Leadbelly, et al.

He spoke of his surprise upon learning that people were much more interested in the tape of songs he made for his new daughter that they were in his latest album of pop songs about drinking and old girlfriends. And he described hanging out on the playground with West Indian nannies and sharing music with them (in my own career I’ve been blessed with a similar crowd) and how things just sort of grew from there. The importance of finding other musicians, diverse musicians with different backgrounds and influences, cannot be overstated. He spoke of the vital questions to ask people: “Where are you from?” and “What did you grow up singing?”

The diversity is important because kids and families want to be able to relate to what’s up on stage; kids of all backgrounds want to be able to look at the musicians and hear their music and find a piece of themselves. Further, he spoke of his goals: “My goal is to build bridges, it doesn’t matter if I know how or not.” And, just as those old Folkways records came with all the lyrics and chords printed in the liner notes, he reminded us all that that the music we make should inspire people to make music themselves.

It was a lovely speech and he closed by encouraging us all to keep building this community. Sure, we could all view it as a competition for market share, but the best music comes from the heart and encourages folks, rather than showing off.

After that, two hundred eager community builders headed for the bar. A side note, there’s a lovely little microbrew called SouthHampton that I quite enjoyed over the course of the evening.

From then on it was schmooze-o-rama time. I brought a dozen Fuzzy Lemons press kits with me and handed eight of them out to various bloggers, labels (including Putamayo!), a radio show or two, and even a reporter from Time. I plan to hand out the rest today. In return I came home with a goodie bag full of postcards, CDs and stickers from a bunch of other artists.

The first folks I bumped into at the bar were familiar faces: Paul Helou, whom we’d met at Great South Bay last summer, and Mark Lipsitz of Bar None Records. I introduced them to each other and we all swapped ideas for venues and such.

I tagged along with Erin Lee off and on over the course of the night, meeting a bunch of folks in her (not inconsiderable) circle. I jotted down some notes: I met and/or schmoozed Recess Monkey (very cool guys from Seattle), Jessie Atwell, the creator of Wigglenation, musician/videomaker Michael Rachad, Bill Childs of Spare The Rock (a radio show!), and members of Justin Roberts’ band, the Not Ready for Bedtime Players.

Members of Brooklyn-based King Pajama shared a laugh with members of Philly-based The Cat’s Pajamas, while Sara Hickman, State Musician of Texas, laughed at just about anything that moved.

Mr. Ray held forth on the advantages of creating your own music program as a source of ongoing revenue; Patricia Shih held court in a comfy chair, surrounded by fellow musicians (she claimed she was only sitting because her feet hurt but she sure looked like the queen bee); and I negotiated World Peace by pointing out that Putamayo’s Mona Kayhan, of Iranian descent, was engaged in a warm conversation with Israeli horn player Oran Etkin.

My work thus complete, I went home.

~ Dave

I had such a blast last night at my friend Howard’s, I just had to write about it a little. Every year for his birthday Howard throws my favorite kind of party: a jam session! Musicians of all stripes gather in his comfy living room to caterwaul into the wee hours.

This year was no exception. I got to the party at 9:00 p.m. and the first “set” was already winding down! I had time to grab a beer and say hi to some folks, but Howard was already itching to get back to the music — he’d specifically waited to play “Mystery Train” until I got there. It’s one of our old favorites.

I had a ball. it was 1:00 a.m. before I knew it. I got to lead the crew in some of my favorite jam tunes, including “Riot In Cell Block Number 9″ and “The Road Goes On Forever.” I also did some wandering, musically — the amp I was using was misbehaving, so I set my guitar down and did some percussion, eventually sitting behind the drum kit for a song or three. I noodled on the bass and even banged on the keyboard a little for “Johnny B. Good.”  Not that I can PLAY the keyboard, mind you…

It was a great night and reminder of everything I love about Hoboken.  Happy Birthday, Howie!

By “scored” I mean I did the music for my friend Guy’s video:

[caution, some language not suitable for minors]

The opening bit is something I did for another of Guy’s movies, ”My Grandma Killed Seven People.” The guitar under the Wes Anderson bit is me picking the chords to “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” a la Simon & Garfunkel’s “Bleecker Street.”

You know those cheesy MIDI files that pop up on websites from time to time? Turns out you can download them and drag ‘em into GarageBand and actually make them sound good. That’s how I got the version of “The Liberty Bell March” (a.k.a. The Monty Python Theme) that you hear here.

Fans of The Fuzzy Lemons may recognize the music during the “Quentin Tarantino” segment. It’s the first demo I did of “Sunburn” in GarageBand, before it even had lyrics. Kimberly Perry, drummer emeritus, helped out with the MIDI drums. Hi Kim!

A very truncated version of the Gordys played at the United Synagogue of Hoboken’s Purim festival tonight. Instead of our usual sprawl of 8 or 9 players, we were pared down to just Adam on clarinet, Barbara on accordion, me on guitar and Justin on bass. Not even a drummer! But we did a pretty good version of our world-famous Klezmer set, as Adam and his wife led lots of circle dancing on the floor in front of us.

Highlights included:

• Seeing Pamela, a fellow Gordy who has been AWOL in Weehawken with her brand-new baby while the house in Hoboken is pretty much rebuilt from the roof down;
• Seeing several young kids in Star Wars costumes (Purim has been described as a kind of Jewish Halloween);
• Doing an encore for an enthusiastic crowd;
• For our encore, playing Barbara’s Freilach, a brand-new original tune written by our very own Babs!

I missed out on the upstairs festivities, which apparently featured Adam as Plaxico Burress. Really.

— Dave

From my friend Tom:

Be at war with your vices, be at peace with your neighbors, and let the new year find you better than the last.

Dave

I’ve never figured out just why I love Halloween so much. Maybe it’s because it was my mom’s favorite holiday when we were kids. She spend hours crafting amazing costumes for us. Or maybe it’s the costumes themselves, playing dress-up and taking on a different persona for a little while. Or maybe I’m just working through the childhood trauma of having to go into this one neighbor’s house and get candy from a bowl clasped in the arms of a corpse in a coffin… I still shudder at the thought. It’s quite possible and even likely that my love of Halloween is nothing more than sweet, sweet payback.

In any event, Hoboken is the right town for me. Entire blocks will go nuts with the decorations, cobwebbing up their stoops and decorating every window with ghosts, ghouls, goblins and, this year, McCain-Palin signs (eek!). The stretch of Bloomfield Street between 12th and 13th streets becomes an after-dark block party, with music, costumes, crazy decorations, candy for the kids, and adult beverages for the over-21s. I’ll probably never be wealthy enough to live on that block (oh, such gorgeous brownstones!) so if you can’t join ‘em, the saying goes, beat ‘em.

My original plan was to get the houses on our side of the block to all join in on decorating and celebrating, Bloomfield-style, but I just couldn’t get my act together in time. In fact, I hadn’t even started decorating by the 2nd week of October. But a few trips to Target, and good ol’ Spencer’s at the mall, were enough to serve up some inspiration.

The Creepy Cafe was born.

The centerpiece was our charcoal grill, which I dragged from the back yard and situated out front. Hidden inside was a little fake fireplace: a red glow and simulated flames (created with the awesome technology of thin fabric and a fan). “Cooking” on the grill I put a couple of phony severed arms, and even a leg. Fake bones strewn around the grill added to the cookout, and an enormous cleaver, saw and meathook (cool props from Spencer’s) served as the grillmaster’s tools.

Oh, I was off and running. I brought a small table and two chairs from the back deck and set them up near the grill, with a creepy old tablecloth and a skull for a centerpiece. My beloved wife, who wholeheartedly supports my bizarre Halloween habit, added some drippy fake blood (including handprints that went up on the window) and a black rose for extra morbidity.

The Creepy Cafe by day

Other props included a candle in a skeletal candlestick, and a fake-rat-in-a-mug that kicks it feet and wiggles its tail when it detect motion. Back-lighting the whole thing was 400 little orange lights. On the night itself, I hooked up a strobe light, fog machine, and iPod with Halloween playlist (”Werewolves of London,” “I Put a Spell on You,” that sort of thing). The Creepy Cafe was ready.

[to be continued]

Taken with the sport following the Beijing Olympics, my friend Ted hosted a Badminton Invitational on Labor Day. I had fun playing, but as you can see I quickly fell into my typical role as Pied Piper.

Dave and teammate Mark getting fierce

Photos courtesy of Ted Mauseth

Lou, lou, skip to my lou...

That’s our pal Penny Jo singing backup, just behind Billy Bob Thornton(!). She’s the middle backup singer, with short hair. We just had to brag on her a little; we’ve been friends and fans since her Syracuse days (she’s making a splash in Austin nowadays, hanging with Ian Maclagen and Ronny Wood among other people). Visit her Web site at pennyjopullus.com and enjoy some of her soulful twang.

Penny Jo trivia: She and Sheryl Crow share a birthday. But we’re not telling which one.

Sorry to say that this gig was rained out tonight! I met Erin Lee and Marci at the Shipyard at about 5:30 for a quick run-through. By 5:45 is was POURING and we’d retreated into the nearby playroom. By 6:00 it was clear that, even if the rain stopped, the stage and field were going to be utterly soaked.

We’re working with Geri Fallo to reschedule it, maybe for Tuesday Sept. 2. Watch this space for details!

Thanks,
Dave

Six years ago, when I first tumbled into Music Together, Erin Lee Kelly and Marci Applebaum were among my new co-workers. Erin especially took me under her wing and showed me how much fun it could be. (Before then I’d only ever held desk jobs. Ick.) I remember her telling me that one could even teach Music Together hung over, if need be. She’s that kind of cool. (I’ve tried it, and it’s not recommended, but it can be done.)

She and Marci had already been best friends and singing buds for just about ever, and now they’ve got a whole band with CDs and videos and the whole deal.  We’ve kept in touch, and I was able to put in a good word with Geri Fallo at City Hall, and now I am thrilled to announce that Erin Lee and Marci will be bringing their special brand of musical zaniness back to Hoboken on Tuesday at the Shipyard! Even better, they’ve invited li’l ol’ ME to join them on stage for a couple of songs! 

(Erin’s e-mail to me said “we would love to have you, the Bodhisattva of Hoboken, sit in with us on a few tunes.” I googled ‘Bodhisattva’ to make sure it wasn’t an insult of some sort, and according to Wikipedia it either means ‘a person whose aim it is to become fully enlightened,’ or ‘a being that compassionately refrains from entering nirvana in order to save others.’  Cool. Perhaps in a later post I’ll explore my relationship to either/both of those definitions. One thing’s for sure: The Fuzzy Lemons will have to find a way to show our thanks once we hit it big!) 

We’ll see how it goes Tuesday–we’re throwing together a last-minute 5:30 rehearsal for a 7:00 show, and I’m slightly out of my comfort zone playing mandolin and banjo instead of guitar–but it sure is flattering to be invited to share the stage with them. Seriously, they’re creative and funny and I wish I had half of their energy and talent!

Come check out the show, and ask Erin what it’s like to have Hugh Jackman bring his kid to her Music Together class.

See you there,

Dave