Worth Every Penny

Many, many years ago, songwriter Butch Hancock played a show every night for the month of February, with a different theme, in a different setting each night. Carrie and I made one of those shows, Train Night, at the old Waterloo Ice House on Lamar. I don't recall if we've seen him do a solo show since then, but his latest stunt at The Cactus Cafe was enough to get us out on a Thursday night. It was also the only live music that I paid a cover charge to see this summer. To close out this era of The Cactus, Butch played five consecutive nights without repeating a single song. Half the audience had bought a five night pass so they could attend every show. I like Butch, but come on, one night was enough, especially if you happened to pick the right night.


Butch's songs are full of wry metaphors, and casually deep observations, with bits of wisdom that the listener can hold or ignore if they so choose. The wordiness and observational style can keep a separateness between him and a larger audience, but the intimacy of The Cactus easily overcomes that issue. Anticipating what turned out to be a very long break between sets, Carrie had me drive her home during the intermission. Big Mistake.


When I returned to the show, Butch was joined on stage by Joe Ely and Jimmie Dale Gilmore, making the last 90 minutes a full-on Flatlanders reunion. Unrehearsed and hilarious, the three of them shared two guitars and plenty of stories about the songs they had written together. It was sublime. I could write a lot more about how great it was, but that would just make Carrie sad.



Earlier that week, Jimmie Dale's son, Colin Gilmore played an in-store at Waterloo. It's tough to write about his music without comparing it to his father's. Taking five years between albums, it is clear that Colin works hard crafting quality songs, and mostly succeeds. Natural images of wind, sun, and raindrops in July give a listener the chance to put him or her self into the heart of the songs. I was a little disoriented when the first notes of the first song he played were identical to John Prine's "Picture Show," but after that it was all original. Colin's vocals only occasionally wander to the nasally heights of his dad's, but the resemblance is more evident when he is speaking. Otherwise it is a straght Texas songwriter sound, doing what he does well, taking it seriously, but not taking any bold chances. He's making music that his dad can be proud of, and it was nice to see Jimmie Dale there supporting his son's effort.


L.A.'s Ozomatli packed the store with fans and energy last week, in town for the Latin Music Awards. They were not playing anywhere else in town, so lots of people made the effort to see it. The variety of styles they play is amazing, and all of it is high energy, with horns and keyboards, and lord knows what else. On this day, they really brought the funk, reminding me of James Brown meets hip hop. They left the audience wanting more, playing only about 25 minutes, but for serious fans they'll be back at ACL.

Peace,

JS4