This is an excerpt from the print edition of Dirty Linen Magazine #99 (April / May 2002). The magazine is available on newsstands and by subscription.

Despite a downpour and surreal traffic on the Bay Bridge, a full house of fans, family, and friends was on hand to see Peter Case, Dave Alvin, and Bill Morrissey channel the country blues of John Hurt at Berkeley's acoustic music institution, Freight & Salvage.

In support of Vanguard Records' recent Hurt tribute album, Avalon Blues, featuring Case, Alvin, and Morrissey, among other roots luminaries, the near three-hour show was a loose, warm-hearted homage to the Mississippi bluesman, dubbed the "Buddha of the Blues" by an appreciative Alvin.

After opening together with a tasty weaving of Hurt's "Avalon Blues," each hit the stage solo to perform his own material, if not stick strictly to the night's theme. In between powerful versions of "Inside," from his 1992 release of the same name, and "On 23rd Street" from his new album Something I Saw or Thought I Saw, Morrissey treated the crowd to some of the show's funnier moments."I've got to get out of this high-stress folk music business," he joked, after noting he'd received his first mailing from the AARP. The home crowd appreciated his take on Madison, Wisconsin, too — "The Berkeley of the Midwest, if you have an imagination." Friends who have turned to mountain biking didn't escape, either — "Like two hours of sitting on a collie's face."

With his harmonica bolted on, Case added some needed punch, bobbing and weaving his way through an inspired four-song set, which showed off his formidable country blues chops. Highlights included his autobiographical odyssey "Still Playing," recalling his days as a street musician in San Francisco. ("The only request I had is can you sing far away," he sang.) Double riffing on his Martin and harmonica and singing off the mike during a hot version of "Ice Water," he produced more than a few hoots from the crowd's Berkeley intelligentsia. And while no one expected him to break into "A Million Miles Away," he played a rousing version of "Paradise, Etc." from Flying Saucer Blues.

Alvin, the technician of the group, didn't disappoint, either, playing some the hottest runs of the evening for the benefit of friends like Red Meat guitarist Michael Monalto. "In keeping with the theme of the evening," he offered a mix of originals and traditionals, including Bo Carter's "Barn Burning," a link to his own blue-collar characters on the fringe, and Tommy Johnson's "Maggie Campbell," with Case on harmonica.

The crowd was rapt by a skillful rendition of "Blackjack David" on National Steel — "The 'Louie, Louie' of the Celtic school," he observed. With "I'm an All Around Man" and his plaintive "Dry River" ("A California blues song if John Hurt looked like me," based on "Stagolee"), Alvin showed he's a great writer and interpreter. Tom Russell, who was in attendance, even took the stage for a finale of "Blue Wing."
The second set featured the event's entire cast, playing 10 tunes from Hurt's catalog, some well worn, others more obscure, like the uncensored "Funky Butt." Without calling class to order, all three took turns offering short witticisms on this icon from Avalon, Mississippi, who came to notoriety in the 20s with Okeh Records and spent his later years farming and playing local churches and dances in his hometown. There were some spontaneous gaffes, as well. When Alvin was at a momentary loss for contributors to the Avalon album, Case offered up Sting's name in jest, encouraging Morrissey to break into a John Hurt-style whisper of "Every Breath You Take."

The three were at their best on seminal Hurt tunes such as "Beulah Land," with Case at the lead, and the mournful "Angels Laid Him Away," featuring inventive vocal exchanges from Alvin and Morrissey. Equally good were "Pay Day," with Case chugging along on harmonica, and a beautiful version of "Make Me a Pallet on Your Floor," including strong harmonies and lead verses from all three, as well as poignant accompaniment from Alvin. And, if you can forgive stream-of-consciousness wordplay, the crew's version of "Since I've Laid My Burden Down," proved to be a moving closer.

All told, Avalon Blues wasn't just an opportunity to hear John Hurt, it was a chance to see three scholars at the top of their powers.
— Bill Meyer (San Francisco, CA)

Vance Gilbert and Ellis Paul
The Cellar Stage, Baltimore, MD
November 9, 2001
Grace Norton Rogers School,
Hightstown, NJ November 10, 2001
Vance Gilbert
Tin Angel, Philadelphia, PA
November 11, 2001

Put best friends and singer/songwriters Ellis Paul and Vance Gilbert on stage together in a crowded room and a few sparks are bound to fly. The point of ignition: two recent back-to-back concerts when the solo tour of each artist converged upon the other. The bond of friendship between them, the ease with which they interact, and their intimate knowledge of one another's material combined to produce two magical evenings of acoustic music.

Rather than each performing a separate set of music, Gilbert and Paul took the stage together. While one played, the other filled the spaces between his notes with backing guitar or harmony vocals. They hit the ground running at one end of the emotional spectrum and didn't stop until they'd traversed the entire length of it. From love songs to those tinged with regret, from sadness to joy, from the serious to the down-right silly, the pair covered it all.

Sharing the stage had a sublime effect, and both performers were at their musical best. Gilbert, who is currently recording a new album for a spring 2002 release, was particularly tuneful, his guitar playing smooth and inventive. He performed songs dating back to his earliest album as well as Shawn Colvin's "Cry Like an Angel" and Stevie Wonder's (never more timely) "Heaven Help Us All." Nowhere was Gilbert's versatility more evident than on his cover of Paul's "Did I Ever Know You." A stunned Paul even momentarily forgot the lyrics to his own song when Gilbert signaled for him to join in.

Paul concentrated on material from his recent release, Sweet Mistakes [Co-op Pop Records]. The album's title track appeared to get the greatest recognition from the audience, due in no small measure to its inclusion in the recent Farrelly Brothers film Shallow Hal. Paul's only a cappella number, "Beautiful World," was sung with a quiet confidence as he created very real characters in a subdued tone. In addition, his poignant interpretation of The Beatles' "Let It Be" left many in attendance, including Gilbert, shaking their heads in amazement.

In Baltimore, Gilbert brought the audience to near tears as he explained the reasons he stopped performing his popular love song "High Rise." Following the terror attacks on September 11, with its powerful imagery of fire and flame, the song had simply proven too difficult. Gilbert then announced his intention to "reclaim" it and succeeded by delivering a scorching version.

Paul, too, made a statement regarding September 11th, however, his feelings were made abundantly clear without ever saying a word. Prior to the show, as patrons filed into the venue, Paul's Guild guitar could be seen resting alone in a stand at the rear of the stage. Scrawled across the guitar's body in large black letters (in the tradition of Woody Guthrie) were the words "Anti Terror Machine." Paul had written the message in indelible ink shortly after the attacks on New York and Washington, and has been performing with the guitar ever since. No explanation was really necessary.

The venue in Baltimore, a church basement, presented the artists with a few audio challenges that were more than compensated by the small, intimate, neighborly feel of the place. During the break between sets, both performers mingled, signed autographs, and posed for photos with fans. In contrast, the auditorium of the Grace Norton Rogers School in Hights town, New Jersey, offered a more sizeable audience and a sound engineer worthy of a fine concert hall. Although there was more space between performers and audience, the show was no less enjoyable.

In Hightstown, Gilbert surprised everyone in attendance by dishing out a bit of "cultural whiplash." At the conclusion of Paul's song "Speed of Trees," in his finest Jamaican-Jewish-brogue, Gilbert added a hilariously funny impromptu verse of his own, proving once again why Paul could be named as "Good Sport of the Year."

Another highlight of both shows was the increasingly popular medley of Beatles songs that the two have performed together on numerous occasions. Beginning with "Dear Prudence" and continuing on through "Blackbird," "Help," "I Want To Hold Your Hand," and several others, the pair traded vocal lines seamlessly as Paul's guitar kept a steady accompaniment.

At the conclusion of the second show, both artists parted company to resume their individual tours. Gilbert played a solo set the following night at Philadelphia's Tin Angel nightclub, and the contrast to the previous shows was palpable. While he covered much of the same material, his banter between songs was now geared more toward the audience members seated directly in front of him, rather than at Paul. With the stage now completely his own, Gilbert took more musical risks, and spread his comedic wings even wider.

The fun and games were punctuated by passionate vocal delivery and still more brilliantly intuitive guitar playing. One particularly moving incident occurred when Gilbert, glancing with a smile to a seat near the center of the room, recalled the last time he'd seen his father. The elder Gilbert passed away several months earlier and it was in that very club, during a show, that the two had last spent time together.

Gilbert then performed "A Little Bit Gone" for the first time, a brand new song he'd written about the difficult father/son relationship. His uncommon strength to rekindle painful childhood memories, and the immeasurable courage it took to do so in public, were powerful examples for all in attendance. The heart-wrenching song left many in the audience wiping tears, and Gilbert himself appeared to have been momentarily swept away.

The show closed on a joyful note with a raucus version of "When Jimmy Falls in Love" from Gilbert's first album. The song is a familiar favorite, and little coaxing was necessary before the entire room was singing along to the chorus. — Annette C. Eshleman (Lancaster, PA)