In December we kicked off the Songbird Sessions, a series of private house shows at the Furr's dubbed Workshop Studio. They have been hosting shows for a while now, and it's neat thing. We have snacks, beers, an cozy setting with cool lights, and fabulous musicians. Note, there's no stupid-ass football game (no offense? [get it?]) to distract people, and if you want to have a convo with your friend you can go to a completely different room. We take up a donation for the artists, and they get 100% of it.
Jake Robison started us off outside with a magnificent set including my two favorite, "Clay Upon His Hands" and "Blue & Trains." We got to hear the stories behind these songs and learned that while sometimes a song can buy you the time you need to get a ring for your lady, it doesn't buy you out of taking out the trash. That Jake Robison, what a comedian. And what a talented songwriter. I can't hear 'that Train song' without crying, so it's a good thing I had my best friend sittin' cross-legged on the ground with me. Whether anyone would agree with me or not, I'd call this some straight-up, no bull-shit country music. People better watch this guy before he gets snapped up by a big fancy label and scooted off to the Opry or somethin'.
The County Fringe brought it inside to the living room, Guy with his drum set, guitar, banjo, slide, harmonica and who knows what other instruments, and Heather with her mountain bluebird voice! I swear that girl was born in the Appalacians, one of sixteen children, and brought Jesus out'a hiding and into the church house on Sunday morn'. There's nothing like hearing a married couple make music together, particularly these folks. When Guy whipped out the slide gee-tar, and Heather was stompin' her bare feet on the hardwood floor, we took a trip on a covered wagon 'round the bend sippin' on sarsaparilla. And let me tell you, it was something fierce.
