Feast of Music

The Flatlanders Bring Grassroots to Zankel Hall

by David Artavia

West Texas was alive and well Saturday night at Carnegie Hall, with The Flatlanders performing as part of WFUV’s Live at Zankel concert series. Before the show even started, the energy was palpable with excitement, as the trio imported loyal fans unlike I’ve ever seen lately at a concert. With decades of experience in the industry between them, the group welcomed the Carnegie audience like first timers—grateful and enthusiastic.

Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Butch Hancock, and Joe Ely walked out on stage to roaring applause, and just by listening to the tone of their voices, you knew that The Flatlanders had experienced life and all its virtues. One might not think that this grassroots acoustic band would be able to make the prestigious Zankel Hall into something country, but they absolutely did. And, although each member has achieved success in their own right as pioneers in country music, the night was an homage to growing up in Texas together as childhood friends—a great reminder of how the genre was born.

The audience knew every word that they sang, and it wasn't long before Zankel became a county fair, full of “yeehaws” and screaming requests. During their first set they sang audience favorites like "Julia," "Not That Much Has Changed," and "Hopes Up High" with tremendous response. Afterwards, they came downstage and sat on bar stools—each with their guitars, of course. One by one, they told stories of the old days and played a number of their newly recorded songs.

Goodnight, Texas at Arlene's Grocery

by Laura Wasson

Last night I had the pleasure of catching Goodnight, Texas at the Lower East Side's Arlene’s Grocery. Named for the tiny town at the exact midpoint between their respective homes in San Francisco and North Carolina, Avi Vinocur and Patrick Dyer Wolf's American folk-revival band has been crisscrossing the country in support of their debut LP, A Long Life of Living. The evening proved a homecoming of sorts for Wolf, who spent a portion of his childhood in the Northeast, and suitably, the small space was packed to the gills with dear friends and ardent fans who relished every minute of the nearly hour-long set.

The boys began on a playful note, opening with a pseudo-warmup of "The Star Spangled Banner" that instantly put the crowd in high, participatory spirits before moving straight into "The Railroad" and "Meet Me by the Smokestack"—both rootsy, bluegrass-tinged songs that played to Vinocur and Wolf's strengths on guitar, banjo, and mandolin.

The group's sound is American in the strictest sense, with a heightened focus on the storytelling. Similar to The Band, Bob Dylan, and more recently The Raconteurs, Goodnight, Texas put a premium on thoughtful lyricism. Gone are the paeans to drunken nights with friends or slapdash love songs that seem to encompass every artist's oeuvre these days. Their work is much more considered and elegant, deftly weaving tales of angst, sorrow, and—yes—love that feel real and earnest.

White Light Festival: Mary Chapin Carpenter and Cameron Carpenter

"Poetry (or music)...exists partly for the purpose of showing us ourselves, at our worst and at our best." - Sharon Olds

Before Superstorm Sandy blew into town last week and caused all kinds of disruptions to the NYC music calendar, I was able to make it up to Alice Tully Hall for a pair of performances at the White Light Festival. Now in its third year, White Light has established itself as a fixture in the New York musical calendar, thanks largely to the eclectic, thoughtful programming of festival director Jane Moss. Over the course of numerous conversations with Moss, it has become clear to me that White Light is much more than just a music festival: it's a retreat, an escape that offers time and space to stop and reflect on our lives, both our happiness and our misfortunes. With everything New Yorkers have gone through this past week, this year's White Light Festival seems to have arrived just in time.

Case in point: singer-songwriter Mary Chapin Carpenter, who performed a two-hour set with her band a week ago Friday. Carpenter has been through some rough times in the past few years: her father passed away, she divorced her husband, and she almost died from a pulmonary embolism. These experiences all went into her cathartic new album, Ashes and Roses, which traces her slow climb back from the edge of despair. With visionary, pain-drenched songs like "What to Keep and What to Throw Away" and "Chasing What's Already Gone," this show was all about healing, about learning from your experiences and moving on. For those in the room who had ever suffered a broken heart, it was hard not to be inspired—or to keep a dry eye.

Sandy

by FoM

This has been a difficult week for all of us who are fortunate to call NYC home: I can't think of anyone who wasn't impacted by Sandy, be it people who lived without power for five days, or folks stranded at home because they couldn't get anywhere, or those with much more serious issues. Among the many disruptions this storm caused, almost all musical events of any significance were cancelled this past week - an unprecedented event in my time as a New Yorker - and many major organizations are still trying to get back on their feet.

But, as of this morning, the power has finally been restored to all of Manhattan, and much of the subway grid has been restored. So, for those of you who've been cooped up in your apartments this past week, I can't think of a better time to get out and catch a show. (No additional city resources required.) Still, be sure to check with the venue before you venture out: among performing arts institutions, Lincoln Center is open for business, but Carnegie Hall, which has had a crane dangling precariously over it's front door all week, is closed until further notice.

Not everyone, though, got out of Sandy unscathed. Among the many sad stories I've heard, New Amsterdam Records was particularly hard hit when their Red Hook studios flooded over the weekend, resulting in the loss of most of their CD stock and thousands of dollars worth of equipment and gear. Sarah, Judd and Bill have set up a relief fund, which you can donate to here.

As it happens, I'm out in the Pacific Northwest this weekend, visiting friends and catching shows in Seattle and Portland. (More on that soon.) Everyone here has been watching the news, and has shared with me their shock and sorrow at the scope of the destruction. It feels strange to be here and not there right now, but I take comfort in the fact that the New York I'll return to next week will be back to...well, if not normal, then at least it's old crusty self, complaining about late subway trains and high electric bills. Who knew we ever had it so good?