If someone
tells you it’s hard to find good live music in Louisville they haven't been looking in the
right places. In the space of about a
week we attended three amazing, foot-stomping concerts, and no doubt missed
some other good ones.
First,
at the Palace Theater, a week ago Thursday, we were the geezers amongst a
happy, mostly young crowd. The Avett Brothers
rocked out at the first of a three-night stand. The Avett Brothers’ repertoire defies simple
categorizations: western swing,
bluegrass, Christian hymns, and calypso.
The
crowd seemed to know every word. Three
young women in the row in front of us, cute as any coeds I've seen, bounced,
danced and sang along. I wasn’t a big
fan of the Avett Brothers. At least
until now. The "kids" are ok
if this is the music they are rocking to.
On the
following Sunday, one of those gorgeous fall days where you can’t bear to stay
inside, we went to the riverfront to see the riverboat festival. A variety of music drifted towards the best
viewing areas as we waited to see the riverboats take off on their race. We didn’t care who won the race. It was just a great excuse to be outside on a
glorious day.
At the main
stage we heard some jazz and also a band called the Billy Goat Strut Review,
complete with a female torch singer, a slide trombone, a sax, and a washboard,
along with the usual instruments, guitars and percussion. They played some of the music my Mom use to
play on the piano. Some mixture of
old-timey, bluegrass and honky-tonk.
As the
Billy Goats left the stage and we were getting ready to head back to our car we
were almost run over by the March Madness Marching Band from Lexington . They marched right through the crowd. The band members, dressed as pirates and
gypsies, played all sorts of outlandish instruments, danced and marched. Very fun.
To wrap up
the week of musical fun we went to the Clifton Center this past Thursday to
hear the Carolina Chocolate Drops. Rhiannon Giddens belted out Waterboy, an Odetta song, covered Leadbelly, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Jean Ritchie, as well as
singing a foreign language song, perhaps in Gaelic. The Carolina Chocolate Drops
also did Sandy Boys, Hit ‘em Up Style, and Snowden’s Jig (Genuine Negro Jig).
The “Drops”
played a variety of instruments, including an 1859 replica banjo with an
amazing sound as well as bones, some made of wood and some of actually bone,
which brought an authenticity to the minstrel songs. Rhiannon talked about the
history of minstrel music and how the banjo was one of the ways African Americans
had shared music with white Americans.
The
memorable opening act, Birds of Chicago joined the encore, which included Read
‘em John. By then, Rhiannon also had invited a tall, thin young man, dressed in
bib overalls, who had been among the concert-goers dancing in the aisles, to
join them on stage. He said his friends
called him “Long legs” and he danced like George Clooney in “Oh Brother Where
Art Thou?”, only better.
“Wow!” the
first word out of my mouth at the end of the concert. My husband simultaneously said the same thing,
as did the friendly stranger who had been sitting next to me. We all were standing on our feet applauding
after the encore, wishing for more.
The next
day, as my spouse and I ate breakfast, we both were singing the words to one
song that had wormed its way into our ears: “Corn bread, butter beans and you across the
table…”
I capped
the week of foot-stomping music by buying my own pair of foot-stomping boots
for our next concert.
*This
column was written with significant contributions from my spouse who forty five
years ago this Halloween took me on a first date to listen to a concert. He now
has taken me to more concerts than I can count.