Fairport Convention
McCabe’s, Santa Monica, CA
October 19, 1996
It was Fairport Convention’s first trip to the west coast in something like eight years. It was also the first time in the States as an acoustic four piece (Dave Mattacks was off touring with Richard Thompson). But they had little trouble drawing an audience as the first show quickly sold out and the second, nearly did.
Opening with “Slip Jigs and Reels” and then segueing into “Woodworm Swing” (with Maartin Allcock and Dave Pegg taking solos), the band showed how well the acoustic format suits this line up.
Alternating between sitting and standing, they played with the sense of fun that makes a Fairport gig so enjoyable. Jokes were flying, there was a relaxed approach to the songs and one couldn’t help but get caught up in the excitement.
The set was a nice mix of old and new. “There Once Was Love/Innstück” from the new album was sandwiched between “Crazy Man Michael” and “Genesis Hall,” two songs Simon Nicol seems to have made his own. In keeping with the acoustic spirit, Ric Sanders was playing a regular wood fiddle which sounded wonderful on his “Portmeirion.” This was followed by “The Naked Highwayman,” where Nicol seemingly had difficulty in getting all the words in. (His attempt in the second set didn’t work much better.) Allcock, who had borrowed a mandocello off the wall (one of the benefits of doing a gig in a music shop) led the group in a rousing version of “Mr. Sands is in the Building.”
The next couple of tunes came from the new album: “Frozen Man,” where it was pointed out Peggy's new hair cut was a tribute to James Taylor, and “Lalla Rookh.” They were followed by a majestic “Hiring Fair,” a song that lost the beat in the middle, and it seemed like each of them were playing a different tune.
As is the tradition in any Fairport gig, “Maddy Groves” marked the end of the evening’s music with a spirited “Dirty Linen” bringing the crowd to its feet. They were back quickly for an encore of “Royal Selection #13.”
Fairport seems to have found new life in its acoustic format. No longer is it just the electric set minus drums, but a completely different take on their brand of traditional and contemporary material. As they enter their 30th year, it seems that they have life in them still.
— Jim Lee (Simi Valley, CA)

Phil Ochs Song Night
Eighth Step Upstairs, Albany, NY, November 9, 1996
Phil Ochs Song Night is an all-encompassing experience. It is a productive connection with the past, a spirited look to the future, and an evening of just plain darned good music. Sonny Ochs, Phil’s sister, is the driving force behind all of this. She knows the value of preserving the musical legacy that her late brother, the brilliant protest-folk-singer, has left, yet she also understands the importance of showcasing other talent who are paying their own tributes to Ochs with diverse original repertoires.
The agenda for this evening was striking. Each of the dozen or so acts performed a Phil Ochs song and one of their own, which kept the enthusiastic audience well-informed of the man’s music, but still ever aware of what is going on in folk music today. While Matt and Marshall Jones, members of the Freedom Singers during the civil rights movement, chose to be musically consistent as they performed a sadly true song about still fighting for freedom “thirty or forty years down the line,” alongside Ochs’ pointed “What’s the Idea Now?,” the duo of Christopher Shaw and Bridget Ball sang Shaw’s own jaunty coming-home-from-the-road number “Been to Town and Back Again,” before segueing into Ochs’ gorgeously haunting “There But for Fortune.” The down-home ambiance of the Landfill Mountain Boys rendition of “The Hills of West Virginia” was a fitting contrast to the jazz-gospel style of the always-thrilling Kim and Reggie Harris on “Medgar Evers.” Then, too, the comedic side of things was well-represented by the riotously funny Camille West and Nancy Tucker.
— Ellen Geisel (Clifton Park, NY)

The Fourth Annual Irish Music and Dance Weekend Party of the Year
Kutsher’s Country Club, Monticello, NY
October 25-27, 1996
Although it was smaller this year than it has been in the past, the Irish Music and Dance Weekend Party of the Year can still boast some terrific music. Internationally-known musicians, as well as local talent from the East Coast, filled the stages of four different venues. The musicians included recording artists from several record companies, notably Shanachie, Green Linnet, Cló-Iar Connachta, and Kells. The Kells stable was particularly well-represented; their acts include Begley and Cooney, Celtic Thunder, Sliabh Notes, and Dervish, all of whom attended the weekend. From Shanachie, flute player Laurence Nugent was there, and Cló-Iar Connachta was represented by the Lonely Stranded Band. Despite the existence of a similar weekend party devoted just to Green Linnet, their current and former acts James Keane, Jack Coen, Father Charlie Coen, and Tony Demarco all attended the Kutsher’s party as well.
Because there were relatively few acts present, each one played several times during the weekend. This was a blessing in that I wasn’t constantly worried about missing my favorites. Highlights and oddities included: great Sliabh Luachra music from Sliabh notes, featuring Matt Cranitch, Tommy O’Sullivan and Donal Murphy; powerful accordion playing, radical guitar, and fine singing from Begley and Cooney; wild but deadly accurate piping and sensitive guitar backup from Paddy Keenan and Nigel Stevens; a sensational young group fronted by Emer Mayock’s brilliant flute playing and featuring a radical approach to the bodhrán; Fidilusion, Tony Demarco’s way-out fusion of Irish fiddle music with Latin and Indian percussion; the low-key but very impressive traditional music of the Lonely Stranded Band; and a fine set of tunes and songs from Celtic Thunder, who sounded better than I’ve heard them sound in years. I was slightly disappointed in the sean-nos singing session, since there was little actual sean-nos singing in evidence; Tara Mooney, who has a lovely strong voice, sang mostly folk revival standards in English.
The real standout among the performing acts was undoubtedly Dervish. A fiery quintet from Sligo, Dervish is one of the tightest and most ferocious bands on the Irish music scene today. The three lead players, on fiddle, flute, and button accordion, were beautifully controlled even at high speeds, and the accompaniments on mandola and guitar were equally skillful. Most charming of all was the singing of Cathy Jordan, whose traditional songs in English and Irish were high points in the band’s several sets. Wisely, the organizers put Dervish in Friday’s evening concert and at the very end of Sunday’s program; they knew that people who saw them on Friday would stay to the end.
The sessions that began when the formal program of events had ended were also among the weekend’s greatest musical moments. Sitting around the bar area of the Launch Pad or the Deep End, you could joke with musicians and partygoers alike, listen as the informal group of players modulated a tricky tune switch, or hear Seamus Begley sing a hilarious parody of an Irish song on whatever topic was being discussed. Guiness and Harp flowed as freely as the music. Plenty of the performers, like the audience, got no sleep during the weekend, preferring instead to spend blissfull hours engaged in talking, drinking and musicmaking.
No discussion of the weekend would be complete without mentioning Kutshers itself. A throwback to an earlier era, Kutshers is like a stationary cruise ship, a self-contained environment stuck in a Borscht Belt time warp. The food ranged from edible to awful, and was fully kosher, which meant strange non-dairy desserts. The venues were decorated in 1970s bad taste; one was the “Stardust Room,” a dance hall where the set dancers did their impression of the energizer bunny (keeps going and going...) surrounded by the bizarre décor: stars, moons, galaxies and planets painted on the midnight blue walls. The other three were the Deep End, a bar near the pool with phony bubbles on the wall and high modernist chairs that were uncomfortable in the extreme, The Launch Pad, a relatively normal-looking cabaret with its own bar, and a makeshift stage set up in the resort’s lobby.
In all ways, Kutshers was the height of tackiness, but with all the great music going on, nobody really cared.
— Steve Winick (Philadelphia, PA)