The first reason that my opening line falls flat is a technicality: While there were elements of traditional bluegrass, particularly in some of the mandolin numbers performed by Tim O'Brien, the overall style of the evening of not so easily pigeon-holed. Old Man Luedecke sings his own brand of light hearted folk songs over clawhammer style banjo, which is associated with old time music, while Tim O'Brien plays both traditional and original tunes emerging from old time, bluegrass and country styles.
The show was hosted by the Victoria Bluegrass Association and held at Fairfield United Church in Victoria on Saturday November 14th. At $20 a head, it is in the steeper end of what I like to pay for a concert these days, but I would have paid that easily just to hear Old Man Luedecke remind me that "you can always live on rice and potatoes".
Old Man Luedecke has a special place in my heart because of his song "I Quit My Job", which was podcasted by CBC Radio 3 last year. I discovered the track right around the time I was struggling with the decision to quit my own job, which I eventually did, making the song my official anthem of summer and of freedom.
Most of the crowd, however, was there to see Tim O'Brien, who headlined, and apparently is a big deal. I felt personal responsibility to be the front row rep of the Old Man Luedecke fan club, defending against overheard comments like "I hear there's an opening act... I wonder how they're going to split the show... I hope it's not 50/50".
Ok, let's get to the music.
Photo credit: Kelly SherwinI had seen photos and video of Old Man Luedecke before, but I was still surprised by his physical presence when he came out on stage. He was smaller and more youthful than I expected.
The first few songs were a bit tenuous - him trying to win over a crowd largely unfamiliar with his work and me anxiously wanting the show to be as powerful as I need it to be.
He played "I Quit My Job" early in the set, and the cheers from the back of the hall when he introduced it reassured me that I was not the only one in the crowd who had been touched by the song. It was over in 3 minutes that felt like 3 seconds, a grin plastered to my face as I did my best to restrain myself from singing along too loudly or getting up and jumping around.
The crowd was fully on his side (and my side) by the time he told the story of how, at 16, he was grounded and spent months in the basement listening to records. Out of dozens of heavy hitting albums, the one that really grabbed him was a yodeling record. He asked his dad if he could learn how to yodel, and his dad said no, yodeling is something that you're born with. Old Man Luedecke attested that he proved his dad right 10 years later when he wrote the next song. The chorus began "yo-de-lay-hee, yo-de-lady of my dreams", and the crowd was invited to join in on the yodeling.
We went from sing-along to sing-along as we moved to the next song, an environmental ballad that Old Man Luedecke wrote after driving across the continent to see his hero Pete Seeger, who responded to the honour by remarking "you must have used 90 litres of gas to get here!" Ouch. But the song, "Little Bird", was great and the crowd really loved the chance to join in on the chorus.
He sang about turning to the good book for answers. Of course, the book was the Joy of Cooking, and the answer was bacon. In Old Man Luedecke's words, "that's sacrilicious!"
Old Man Luedecke's persona, like his music, is unassuming and good-natured, if mildly self-deprecating. Originally from Chester, Nova Scotia, he left Toronto at 23 for the Yukon, where he fell in love with a girl and with a banjo. His songs come from a place of hope, love and simple pleasures (like napping). "All I want is to be a little part of the things that I love [...] It seems there's lots of things that I could love." I relate easily to his story and his laid back approach to life. "Don't kill yourself about making it / Just be taking it easy, but be taking it / There's enough out there who are faking it / Don't let 'em take the joy that you make on your own." He says more to me with the line "this world is it, I'll make it my home" than most artists do with a whole album.
Moving on...
Photo credit: Kelly SherwinWhat I knew about Tim O'Brien before he graced the stage:
-When it comes to contemporary bluegrass and folk musicians, he is considered among the best,
-He performs on the banjo, guitar, fiddle and mandolin,
-He won an award for best male vocalist of the year, and
-Everyone around me was incredibly excited to see him.
I was really excited to see him, too. I'm a big fan of anyone who can play even one of the instruments in his repertoire well, and a bigger fan of anyone who can sing really well. If you can play and sing at the same time, I'm yours.
Technically, everything about his performance was incredible. He played sets on the four instruments, showing mastery of each and a great diversity in style. Traditional songs were heartfelt and performed with great skill. He showed great talent for song writing as well, with clever lyricism and rich musicality. Between songs he was funny and poignant and essentially likable.
I'll give you a list of personal highlights:
-He sang a song called "Get Out There and Dance". It includes the lyric "As long as you're doing it, you're doing it right," and was animated by Tim dancing along to the lyrics ("Step to the left" etc.)
-Leading into his banjo set, he told several one-liners about banjo players. Apparently Mark Twain once said that a gentleman is a man who can play the banjo and doesn't.
-He sang a song about thinking that your phone is vibrating in your pocket when it isn't. Favourite line: "6 months since you went away, 6 times I felt you call today."
-My absolute number one highlight was a song that took us back to the town where he grew up in West Virginia. He embodied the merchant who would come down the street in his truck every Tuesday to sell produce to the neighbourhood and sang about the fruits and veggies he had for sale that day. The mandolin accompaniment was perfect and the song was warm and nostalgic.
It was a great show by any standard. Which is why I feel crazy to admit that I felt a little bit empty at the end of it all. Like I had missed out on a personal connection to the artist, even though he was only a few feet from me and even though he put everything he had into the performance.
I think what was missing was a sense of vulnerability. The polished and perfectly produced performance left him with no chinks in his armour. The audience had been won over long before he stepped on the stage. There was no risk, no uncertainty.
I have come to know well that the way a concert is heard has as much to do with the person listening as it does with the person performing. Tim O'Brien wasn't singing for me that night, and that's okay. I still feel blessed to have heard his songs and his stories.
For more Old Man Luedecke:
Official Site
MySpace
CBC Radio 3
For more Tim O'Brien:
Official Site
MySpace
