A short walk, 30 years in a folk band. Sons will begin celebrating our 30th Anniversary in the 2021-22 season. Here’s a Prelude:
Tripping over a nest without breaking any eggs, we three went, on what all beginning troubadours think, is a short hike. Just a walk in the woods and around the block. A walk to the market for a song or two. A walk with a singing trio, when bands are bound to break up quickly, we were just on a walk.
Intent on not blinking so as to not miss a moment, we opened our eyes almost too wide. Like when you can’t sleep and a nightlight only shows a corner, and you think the corner is all, everything man. And the nightlight makes you dream out loud and the lights go on. And we three singers blink, at the same time, and see we have been on the walk for 30 years.
Somehow all the sounds we walked thru became songs laced with three lives;
baby & grandbaby cries, mic feedback, banjos filled with slippers, dog snores, goodbyes to families, hellos to theater or bar owners, laughs and fights, audience sighs, ridiculously long car rides, folded maps flying out the window, sound checks, diner stories, late night phone calls home, footsteps through snow, suitcase rollers rolling, guitars tuning… It’s said that wishes make noise sometimes. You see, walking together is better than walking alone, in fact, everything man.
One of us, let’s call him Bruce the luthier, moved to the city after the end of one story and the start of another. He filled his car with the quilts his mom made and photos of his girls, the guitars he built and a box of songs. Songs that were about to turn into an invitation to, you know, a walk..
Another one of us, named Sue the short, after making a mess of art & jazz school, walked into a folk song and made a home there. She decorated it with scat, long stories, and enough worry, just enough. Ok, more than enough.
The other of us, let’s call her Deb the multi-tasker, while raising babies, making art, building community, and jamming at jams, opened the door with a mandolin and a patient heart. Stepping sweetly into the shoes of Nancy the brave, who started the walk with her guitar and abiding voice, and walked on quickly, to make new solo songs about horses and love and rust and time.
Step by step the songs became the walk, often with the help of friends – piano playing, idea sharing, bass plunking, drummers drumming, jokes telling.
The walk is still walking, the songs are still songing, and it’s everything man.
Etc……