Really Great Mississippi Seven Show Helps Raise $1200

I loaded up the car and left around 2:30. When I got to the Franconia Sculpture Garden around 3:10 I realized I had plenty of time so I walked all around the snowy, expansive art space and was transported and edified by it all. It was quite wonderful. I did not realize how many smaller works there were there, complimenting the giant ones you can see from the highway.

I got to Hog Wild, a terrific barbecue joint and meeting hall (pun intended), around 4:30 and someone kind directed me to the room we were to play in. It was big – bigger than the rooms J. Bell usually books and all I had was my little coffeehouse PA. I set up everything I could and hoped for the best. Karl arrived around 5 and the rest of the guys trickled in over the next hour. Karl and I discussed the PA and I realized I was in a similar setting to the J. Bell shows but a very different situation requiring a different kind of show. It was all going to be fine.

Who all was there? The entire band, along with friends and family, and a totally packed room of excited people of all ages. During our first set kids were breakdancing, adults were normaldancing and singing along, and the band was playing great. We had plenty of space, adequate time to set up, soundcheck, and eat dinner. It may have been our best show yet, in fact I'm fairly certain it was.

During soundcheck Karl announced that his new "Ballad of Iver's Mountain" was in G. In rehearsal on Tuesday it was in D, which I knew because my chorus harmony starts on the high tonic (a.k.a. the note D in the key of D) and while D is within my range, G is pushing it. I said that it had been in D on Tuesday. He disagreed. I said, "It's no big deal. We can do it in G," strongly implying that's not where it was Tuesday without going in to how I knew that for sure. He diffused whatever tension may have been arising by saying, "Just let me have this one." I laughed and said "Okay. Cling to your sweet illusion." It sounds like I was being snotty, but it was good natured.

When we played "The Ballad of Iver's Mountain" the response was tremendous. It was a little like Johnny Cash playing "San Quentin" at San Quentin or "Folsom Prison" at Folsom Prison. We sang chorus after chorus and so did the crowd. Images of quarries and rocky, dusty explosions played on a video loop projected onto the wall behind us all night. Strangely, some of the quarry images were very beautiful and some of the images of Iver's Mountain as it stands were sort of generic and dull looking. It was not terribly effective as propaganda but Karl's mom said it made some interesting juxtapositions with our lyrics. We ended up playing "Iver's Mountain" a second time for an encore at the very end of the night, around 10:15 or so.

On "California" I held the last note as long as I could, which got to be pretty long. I pretend-collapsed and Pete, reading my mind, came over with my coat as a James Brown cape thing, which was cool. I threw it off and cued the last few notes.

"The Devil Is Knocking at the Door" was very effective. I did a bit of a Devil voice, overdid the deadpan laconitude of the Memphis voice, and spoke as clearly as I could. I saw that Karl's mom and cousin were listening and laughing, which made me care even more about the debut live performance of the tune.

On "Loving You" Pete played the drums, wailing on the snare on beat one. It was mercilessly weird and totally inappropriate but that was okay. Andy played drums and I played bass on "Theme From Honigman" which minor rearrangement was a great spur-of-the-moment suggestion by A. Hon. I got to stretch my legs and dance a bit and he is no worse on the drums than I am. "Total Peace" became a showcase for Pete's electric banjo and its conversation with my drums. It was an awesome jam and ended our first set on a definite high note.

Shortly before the end of the first set Bill's keyboard somehow reset itself, eliminating the piano sound and leaving him with only a synth horn patch to play. Technical wizard Bill programmed a new piano sound during the set break, reminding me of his similarly day saving rescue of the DVD player at one of our Cafe Wren outdoor shows, which gave people the option to remain after our set to watch Kung Fu Hustle and be eaten alive by mosquitoes.

The second set had substantially fewer people and I'd lost a meat raffle (which I entered to support Bride on her Atkins diet), blowing six bucks. But I'd had more beer, generously purchased in pitcher format by Pete, and a six dollar second helping of barbecue which I only pretended to pay for, so it was good in its own slightly drunk way. Between the opening vocal notes of "There Stands the Glass" and putting the hammer down on the song proper I paused to stick the lyric sheet on my kick drum, then dropped one of my brushes by accident, then mentioned that I couldn't honestly say any drink was my "first one today". It was funny. To me.

A delighted one year old came up and walked among us for the last four or five songs. I gave him a drum brush and he periodically hit my drums with it but mostly just walked around and waved it and danced. It was great. I played the snare with my bare left hand. I only took the brush back for "Muddy Water" which requires my full attention and whose dynamics I took to the usual ridiculous extremes.

I had good conversations with everyone, plenty of food, drink, time to play, good response from people listening, and we helped raise $1200 to fund the campaign to save Iver's Mountain. I understand the previous fundraiser made $800, so I was glad to hear we compared well.

Another positive was that a reputable newspaper of record ran a story with a full color picture of all seven of us and a quote from Leonard "Shotgun" Johnson, our leader, saying how pleased we were to be back in Luck and helping a worthy cause. This is wonderful validation for the band, given the persistent rumors of Shotgun's non-existence. Of course, he was not at last night's show because he'd spent the night out on Iver's Mountain in a private vigil, causing his fingers to become frostbitten to the extent that he could not play his mandolin. I bought my own copy of that paper for the archives, plus popcorn, jerky, and gatorade, on the way out of Wisconsin.

Got home a little before 1 a.m. and unloaded PA, drums, etc. from car. Started "A Place Of Exile" (story 2 of 3) in Star Trek: Myriad Universes: Infinity's Prism but didn't get very far due to exhaustion. Loved previous story about T'Pol, Pike, Kirk, Sarek, and his near-twin Romulan Commander who marvelously remains unnamed. It was a wonderful night. Thanks to everyone who came out and especially to all my bandmates who worked so hard to make it as good as it was.

Check out the setlist if you wish.