In the Shadows of Mo-town

Number Nine, number nine, number nine, number nine...

Bolted out of town yesterday afternoon with my friend and neighbor to head to Modesto, the quaint Valley city known for, well, I'm not sure what Modesto is known for now. George Lucas hails from there and gave us American Graffiti, which is supposed to be the story of his youth. Formed, like so many Valley cities, on a grid, little Modesto has now been the location of two great concerts this last year.
Unlike April's wonderful performance by Arlo Guthrie and brood, this night was for rock and roll; Jackie Greene and his Band were performing, a writer of good songs, a singer of fine voice and a guitar player of top-notch talent. I've had his "American Myth" since its release and it's a quite good record. I caught him last year performing with Gov't Mule and Jackie pushed and directed Warren Haynes, the Mule's leader, as Billy Preston did with those English guys forty-someodd years ago. Opening for Jackie was, of course, the one and only Truth & Salvage Co.
We met the Holts, the greatest concert-goers in the land and two genuine souls. Tony and Mary are friends that distance unfortunately keeps me from but I'm very thankful for the opportunities such as last night to have with them. They make the show. Mary brought with them her niece and husband, two nice people whose company we enjoyed.
I knew that this wasn't going to be a relaxed "we're not at the Fillmore but we'll make do" night when we arrived at the restaurant and were heckled for being late, for looking the way I do, for the last time we were together and what they already had planned. Hugs and laughs and a pitcher of some wonderful local porter and the evening was underway within minutes.
My excitement for T&S and the porter seemed to kick in instantly and here I was, recounting my stories of the last nine months, talking a mile a minute, making a fool of myself and probably over-selling a band that everyone should be listening to but doesn't and anyway, no one likes a pushy salesman. I tried mellowing but just couldn't, and I figured that if anything, the opening forty-five minute set would at least shut me up and no one would have to hear me talk. We scarfed down dinner, a wonderful pizza, and hoofed it to the venue, a marvelous little mid-1930s movie house with a stage and sound system to boot. The audience was typical Valley; this is by no means meant as a put-down but a simple observation: Valley concert-goers are decidedly older than Bay Area concert-goers and much more mellow. They sit through an entire performance, appearing stoic and seemingly bored but then whoop and holler and show their appreciation with great ovations after every song. Living in the Valley long enough to know this, I've always wondered, however, if traveling acts do. Bands must think, "Oh, crimony, it's the first song and we've lost the crowd already. How can we be rocking and they still be sitting?"
That's what I felt for the first four or so songs last night for the guys. Arriving late, we didn't run into them like I have in the past but I did pass one of the guys in the powder room and he was in great spirits. We joked and I saw later that plugging in, they all appeared relaxed and in fine form. They sang great, played well, bantered back and forth both during and between numbers and were giving us a good performance. Unfortunately, one could tell the band was on a strict curfew, as they moved through all of the numbers at a speed faster than usual. Not necessarily a problem, especially since the audience wanted fast-paced rocking songs. They politely clapped at the end of the first couple of songs and did what I've seen at every show T&S play: slowly, people start looking at the concert posters to catch the name of the opening band, they start tapping their feet, bobbing their heads and by the eighth slot, they're screaming and cheering like they've met the Truth and have been Saved. Secondly, a couple of the instrument mics weren't the best; Walker's accordion, which gives their songs such a beautiful and rootsy sound, came through like it was hooked up on a cry-baby pedal (to quite a nifty little effect but not what should have been). An eleven-song set, they covered the album minus "Brothers, Sons and Daughters". The highlight of the evening, in the fifth slot, was "Rise Up", which tore out of the gates like a thoroughbred racehorse hell-bent on the trophy. The harmonies locked, the instruments blended and when Scott and Tim turned to hit that amazing twin-guitar harmony, the hair on my arms were on end and I was grinning from ear to ear just knowing that this audience of a couple of hundred people were witnessing perfect magic on stage by six guys giving three hundred percent on stage. The roars said it all.
At the end of their set, the crowd in no way gave an obligatory ovation; it was avidly cheering the guys. People were turned on and I saw more vinyl and cd sales than I'd seen at even bigger shows. Let's hope those people go to their friends and say, "hey, man, check this disc out and listen to these guys!" I walked up and Tim gave me a handshake and a setlist (sidenote: my William Miller packrat collection; my cognac box full of my most prized vinyl and memorabilia - hand bills, an autographed magazine from Susan Tedeschi, several drum sticks from the Allman Brothers Band, my slew of back stage passes and other knick-knacks. Of late, it's been joined with posters, more handbills, newspaper ads, several setlist sheets and other stuff that I've collected just from T&S; a nice little scrapbook one day for my kids). I met up with my friends in the lobby and we waited for the band to hit the merch table for meets-and-greets.
I brought my camera and took some lame performance photos but wanted this time some personals of the guys and myself. In the lobby, I wanted to hear my friend and Mary's family's responses and thanfully they really dug the show. Relieved, for sure. Now it was time for them to come out. Slowly and surely they did, so I introduced the group to the band and that's when Mary performed her magic: she became the photography coodinator, directing traffic for each photo, working the band members over and getting them to pose for countless pictures that were of varied quality (the focus is off on my dumb camera); nonetheless, we all had some great laughs, I snapped probably twenty pictures and everyone walked away with autographs aplenty.
Then the lights dimmed, signaling the start of Jackie's set. My friend bee-lined it into the theater but I just couldn't leave. I was having too much fun with the guys and after buying them a round of beers, we hung out. Why I find their company more valuable than concert headliner performances is probably pretty clear but since I could hear what Jackie was playing, I was perfectly cool in the lobby.
I eventually made it into the theater after the guys had packed up and left and caught quite a performance by Jackie Greene and his band. Many Dead covers and some sublime soloing. A satisfying though short set. Jackie even mentioned the impending curfew and called it after ninety minutes.
We all reconvened in the lobby afterwards. Had I had the energy (not to mention time and money) I'd have gone back to their hotel to hang out more and chat. We always end up laughing so much our sides hurt and as we stood under the blackened marquee as the rain began to fall, this night's experience ranked up there with the best of them. As we parted ways, I felt sad as I always do, that our time was brief. Always the next show, right? After arriving in my driveway an hour or so later, with the rain now coming down quite heavily, I took my jacket off, smiled up at the clouds and danced for several minutes to the music in my head and the memories of another great night.

Truth & Salvage Co.'s set:

Hail Hail
101
Heart Like a Wheel
Welcome to L.A.
Rise Up
Old Piano (nice, since I hadn't heard it since July)
Call Back
Jump the Ship (the BEST performance of this song; solid with voices at their best)
She Really Does It For Me
See Her
Pure Mountain Angel

Word has it they're playing a club in Oakland the first week in December. Like white on rice, baby. Thanks, Tony and Mary, thanks neighbor and thank you, T&S. My ninth show in a year, tied for second place for the most shows by a single band. Not bad for ten months!