Ian Moore

I write, because I am too wound up to sleep yet. I write, because I feel the need to capture something here, to hold a moment in time still for long enough to show it to another. I cup it in my hands, hold it lightly, protected from the passing winds of time, and try to find another to show. “See? See what I have found?”

I made a trek to Austin tonight, to try to squeeze into the smallish Cactus Cafe. Ian Moore and Kullen Kuchs were playing there, and, bonuses for me, Billy Harvey was opening for them. When Ian and Kullen played the Red Room in SA awhile back, I was a novice to Ian’s stage performance. I knew of his music, but live is always something more than the recording. Recordings are often made over long periods of time, with enough spaces in between to allow for change of mood and mind. A live performance calls on things in one’s soul that might not always translate to the tape machine. The interaction between performer and audience adds nuances.

At the Red Room, I was blown away in less than a single song, and like the rest of that audience, was entranced. I wasn’t certain that tonight would be the same. That little room has its own power, its own presence, built partly by Delphine and partly by all the amazing music that has been performed there. I knew Ian was powerful onstage, but what about the room?

I found out that it isn’t just the place in his case. He and Kullen wound a similar web at the Cactus, pulling in even the most stubborn of attendees. Some people just do not get the idea of sitting and listening; there is some weird need to talk, especially when alcohol has been added to the mix. Taking command, both with the intensity and subtlety of the music, and a wry sense of humour, seems to be one of Ian’s strengths. I found myself putting my fingers and hands over my mouth quite a lot, to keep from letting out a squeal or yelp. The level of emotion pouring out off that stage was overwhelming. It was quite difficult to not let out an at inopportune time some burst of excitement on my part!

Once again, they walked out into the audience, to play a few acoustic numbers, and this time I was one of the ones so close to them both I could probably tell you the weave of their pants! (Sorry, but I was sitting after all!)
The sound system did a good job of delivering the music, but to be where the ambience of both voices and guitars could brush across my skin was wonderful. There is nothing quite like an intimate song from someone right next to you. And what harmonies! They finished their little audience foyer with “True Love’s Ways”, an Everly Brothers tune. Not many folk in my life know it, but I have had a lifelong crush on Phil Everly, and well, Phil, I am afraid you may have gotten shoved out of that seat tonight! Wow. I adore the Everlys’ harmonies, but these two so outdid the original. I would love to hear them put it as a hidden track on the next CD. Just astounding.

Sigh.

Whew. The drive to and from Austin, combined with being excited all day, and thrilled for several hours, has left my body a bit worn out. To sleep I go, knowing that I am probably lagging behind Ian and Kullen. They both looked done for at the end of the encore. They’ve been on a long tour, and now it’s time for some rest. I am hoping it won’t be too far in the future before I get to hear either or both live again, but this evening will be ringing in my ears and my dreams for several days.
Thank you guys. You are, as I said, magical.

(and Billy bear? you know I love you sweetie, but I will write of thee maybe tomorrow, after a bit of rest. You have a special place in my heart always.)

Say It Loud- Say it Proud

No more apathy people. No more of "I can't make a difference." Join the fight to end the stupidity.
www.neilyoung.com

list of protest songs
#7
Hundred Year Flood's "Ain't Gonna Fight a Rich Man's War"

It is never too late....unless we let it be so.



"You CANNOT bomb the world to peace."

Synopsis

good lord! how time do fly when you are too busy to think! I hadn't realised that it had been nearly a month since I last wrote anything here! Egads!
I am literally going to have to check my calendar as I write this to remember all the amazing folks that have passed through my life lately. Bear with me- I will update this as time permits. Right now, I have another full day at work to face, and sleep is a staple of that diet.

....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz............zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.................

A Loss For Words

I am a writer, a spinner of words. There comes a time when words just don't do it, just cannot seem to communicate an experience well enough for the reader to really get what I mean though. It is then that I paint or draw, trying to capture what seems elusive.....

I should've had my pad with me the other night. I do not know what would've been born, but it might do better here, right now,



Ian Moore came to the Red Room Thursday. He brought with him his multi-instrument playing compadre, Kullen Kuchs. I wasn't certain what was going to go on up there, but before the first tune was even half way over, I knew something special was building in that place. It's one thing to be a singer-songwriter. It is another to be a storyteller. It is yet another to reach beyond that and learn to paint and sculpt with words and music. That is perhaps the best description I can give of what these two did inside those walls.

The first song set a mood, planted a spell....it was like a cauldron of ingredients, both artist and audience, being mixed with sound and the right chant. I see in my mind's eye a swirling, growing cloud of smoke, full of images half-recognised, but so familiar. I hear the drone of the chant, calling one into meditation, and a different state of mind.

Yup. they did this to their audience. It was astounding. Someone sitting in the back, when I told her there were places further forward if she wanted them, informed me should would be leaving in a few minutes. She sayed til the last note died away, some 90 minutes later. I hated to be distracted, but it wan't difficult to fall right back into the mood. Ian kept a tight , though gentle grip on his audience.

One of the delights of the evening was a shift he and Kullen made on their own. They stepped off our little stage, moving a few feet out toward the audience. Kullen brought out his accordian, Ian his guitar, and they stood among us, singing songs in wonderful harmonies. No one there thought about cell phones or chit-chat; we were engrossed in this intimate moment.

And what a voice! I think Ian must have a four octave stretch or better. His clean and perfect transitions remind me of Shawn Phillips so much. I think some opera singers would be jealous. I know most other vocalists would be taken back a step or two.

Oh and Kullen! Kullen saved the soul of a piano that has been sitting at the Red Room for a couple of months, gathering dust, being a knick-knack holder. It was proclaimed to be untunable and unrepairable, and its fate had seemed sealed. When Kullen opened the keys up, while he and Ian were in the audience, a shudder of fear,and embarassment, welled up in me.......then he touched it, lightly at first. Instrument and musician felt each other out, and found common ground. Sounds I did not think it capable of making were carressed out of that piano, and a flurry of tears joined the shock on my face. I know now that I will do what i can to protect that little grandma's -sitting-room piano, until Kullen can come back and try to work it into shape. He believes it can be given new life, and I have to believe someone who can take such time and tenderness to find use for the discarded. It speaks of a true artist, not just of the human being.



We have had some tremendous musicians come to the Red Room already, leaving there bit of soul in the walls, on the stage. The place has built such a wonderful vibe that no artist has yet had even a single negative word for us or the experience. Whatever this place started as, it has become larger in soul than anything we could ever have done to it. I can only use so many words to describe some of the experiences we have witnessed here, and this one is harder than most. I had a friend there who saw Ian about 15 years ago, and his comment was "It's nice to see an artist grow so much."

Whatever journey he has gone through, the Red Room and Ian found a crossroads the other night. It was something that no one there will forget, and no one who wasn't there would probably be able to get without having been there. But he and Kullen left a whole new patina of soul and spirit on the walls, in the curtains. I daresay it will bring further changes on from its mere presence. and I really hope we have theirs again, in the not so distant future.



( I spent last evening with my dear Del Castillo, in Austin, but the day calls. I have so missed my beloved brothers; I know I will have to write about them soon, but the RR calls, among other things. All I will defifnitely say is Happy Birthday Beto! I love you!)

Subtitles

Marcus kinda stole my blog title for this, and really it’s about more than just him anyway, so......

It has been a really busy 4-day weekend! Rest?! What the hell is that? And there is still far too much on the RR’s plate for the next 10 days. I will NOT be staying for all the performances. I have a real job to do, and that’s the one that pays the bills. *sigh* and I used to complain how busy my life was just because I was driving all over the silly state! Scheez.

I don’t really think I have a title for the first segment here, but I have much to say. Spencer Gibb and Rachel Loy came down the other evening. They are half of a band called 54 Seconds, out of Austin. I heard a lot of hubbub about Spencer’s lineage, but wasn’t quite sure what I would be hearing. I was more than pleasantly surprised- I was floored. (I seem to be using that term a lot lately......)
Spencer is the son of Robin Gibb, one of the BeeGees, but I see and hear only the smallest of resemblances. The style of song, the depth of word are so different from what most people would know of the BeeGees. I loved them for their pre-disco music- the harmonies and soulful songs, and I cannot thank Robin enough for this son of his. Other than the quaver in his voice occasionally, I hear few other comparisons, but Spence obviously has a wonderful and long musical back ground.

What was I waiting for? I don’t think I knew; this was a blank slate for me. Rachel and Spence are both very nice people, easy to work with, and obviously at ease with each other. Their combined sense of humour added delightful entertainment to the stage- I haven’t laughed that much at a gig in a long time.
They are both accomplished songwriters, and good singers. I am afraid Rachel took the award for vocals though- she has great control and a wonderful range. Many people try to use areas out of their range and there’s often a gap in their slides through notes. Not so Rachel! She hit pitches that made me cringe (by no fault of her own- I have very pitch-sensitive ears) but the execution was flawless, every time. Just a clean, clear, well-trained voice. It was a perfect compliment to some wonderful songs, many of which truly touched the heart...or the funny bone.


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Okay, life is just too busy! I will have to finish this thought as I can.