Sound Experiences, Memories & Interests.
Building this website was a way to archive and reflect upon my visual art activity. It focuses upon ideas that manifested as ‘objects’ and the venues where those objects were displayed. But, after over fifty years of object-making, I resolved to change direction and devote energy, thought and time to audio: primarily playing guitar for my personal entertainment and satisfaction. Several years ago, it became a preoccupation that was somehow new for me.
Growing up, most entertainment was audio. Front and centre was radio and what I remember most was the music. Then, in 1959 when I turned fifteen, my father bought me a cheap acoustic guitar and taught me a few chords. My otherwise-passive interaction with music became a little more active. Two tunes I recall that dad taught me were The Red River Valley and Up a Lazy River: the first a classic three-chords and the second, a more complex but still pretty simple structure. Both were in the key of C.
From then on I always owned at least one guitar. Although, now I regularly regret how little priority I dedicated to learning to play well. Essentially, guitars became a go-to when I needed to occupy my hands or claim time for myself. I never really practiced and was mostly content to work out how a tune goes before moving on to something new. I dabbled and that was enough for me. Now, I like to think that I am a little more serious. Although aging fingers don’t move fast or comfortably enough to make possible all that I would wish to accomplish. However, I still love the sound and feel of a guitar and appreciate the contribution that the instrument has made to my general and emotional well-being.
Even if all I am doing is tuning and tweaking, every day I try to spend some time with one or more of my instruments. At the moment, there happen to be ten guitars that call for my attention. As with the various qualities of art-making materials, I appreciate that each instrument has its own voice and feel. On the down side however, is that this 'appreciation' is perpetually in danger of 'needing' to hear and, of course, acquire more and more new voices.
As mentioned earlier, creation of the web site accommodated the needs of the visual, but now I find that spending more time with audio has meant spending more time listening to and reading about music and musicians. On this count Youtube, as an audio (and visual) archive, has proven to be a cornucopia of experience that can hold my attention for hours.
Recently, after watching and listening to archived footage of John Lee Hooker and Furry Lewis, I thought it would be interesting for me to take stock of the music and musicians that have remained important to me across the years including those who I have been fortunate to witness first-hand, playing live. Although my list begins at the beginning, as with the way memory often seems to work, what follows is not a record that is strictly in chronological order.
To begin with and as already mentioned, my early-memory musical experiences were courtesy of BBC radio as well as a few records owned by my parents - no live music for me yet. I was not taken to concerts. Although I do recall being at the side of a stage where my parents were performing. I am not sure what the event was - maybe something related to one of their work places: a concert party? - but dad was playing rhythm guitar and mum was singing and dancing. As far as I recall, that was very much a one-off.
Dating from childhood and still at the top of my list are the songs of Hoagy Carmichael. I know that, for the most part, he wrote the music while the lyrics were by one of his collaborators. But he was the face, and often the voice, of tunes that continue to resonate for me. And, in more recent years, I have come to appreciate that my more famous musical contemporaries, such as Eric Clapton and George Harrison, have similar affection for Hoagy’s music. Clapton’s Rockin’ Chair and Harrison’s Baltimore Oriole are great examples of how really good tunes can accommodate the voices and instruments of very different performers. At the same time as I was exposed to Hoagy, Django Reinhardt, Stephane Grappelli, Fats Waller and Cab Calloway were among other parental favourites: thus began my exposure to music.
In my late teens I started to collect blues and folk albums and was quite snobbish about what was and was not worth listening to. Somewhat typical of my taste was an album of songs of the coal miners. One track - A. L. Lloyd singing the Celebrated Working Man - has stuck with me to the point where, even today, I may find myself singing it in the shower. Music like this pointed me to performers such as Shirley & Dolly Collins, Martin Carthy, Joan Baez. Mississippi John Hurt and Leadbelly. They are all equally 'authentic' but, likely, a little more commercially viable than the miners. At that time I also came to appreciate jazz, primarily the musicians playing New Orleans style: George Lewis, King Oliver, Bunk Johnson, Sidney Bechet, etc. Also, like many of my peers, Skiffle became popular fare in part because it really did sound like something we could play ourselves. Performers such as Lonnie Donegan and Ken Colyer & The Vipers come to mind. And then there was a real musical eye-opener that came at everybody from left field. Dave Brubeck's Take Five was the antithesis of skiffle but really caught my imagination.
It was with this background and musical interests that I happened upon the Madhouse on Castle Street, a BBC television play that featured a very young Bob Dylan sitting on set at the bottom of a staircase playing The Ballad of the Gliding Swan.
At the time, 'interludes' on BBC news magazines often included performances by musicians such as Big Bill Broonzy, Ramblin’ Jack Elliot, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, and Nana Mouskouri. If they were 'in-town', they were booked. But the insight and daring of director Philip Saville to fly an unknown Bob Dylan to England was, for many of us Brits, musically life-changing. From that moment, Dylan became as important to me as Hoagy Carmichael. And, but for the unusual January snowstorm that brought much of the country to a standstill, I would have missed his performance of the Gliding Swan. On January 13 1963, I should have been back at art school (Corsham) without access to television. By February, when trains were running again, I returned to Corsham with a brand new copy of Dylan’s first self-titled LP which proved to be the only one on campus (Beechfield House). As a result, the album got a great deal of shared exposure.
In early 1964, Gill and I attended Dylan’s first concert at the Royal Festival Hall. We were in the balcony. The place was packed and, between songs, we could have heard a proverbial pin drop. After the intermission when Dylan returned to the stage, he found that somebody had filched his capo. Not to worry, there were so many guitars being carried by concert goers that many capos were offered and one was accepted. That's a concert goer that is probably still dining out on that memory.
What a difference at Dylan's Royal Albert Hall performance in 1966. This time, we were in the stalls about half way back from the stage. As with the Festival Hall, the audience was silently engaged during the first half of the programme. But the second half when The Hawks (later The Band) appeared, the boos began. People walked out while we enjoyed every moment but were quietly embarrassed by the audience reaction. Maybe this really would be the last time Dylan would cross the pond.
Meantime, back at Beechfield in 1963, my hut-mate (Mike Penny) had the only record player and he was a fan of the big bands, in particular Count Basie and Duke Ellington. Compared to the relative simplicity of New Orleans jazz, I found the big bands hard to take. But, as happens with many things in life, repeated exposure and careful attention can change the mind… and it did mine. Some seven years later, Gill and I sat in the second row at a concert about fifteen feet from Count Basie. Also, along the way I became, and still am, a great fan of Lambert, Hendricks and Ross who sang Basie's orchestral arrangements substituting their voices for the instruments in his orchestra. Several years before the Basie concert in Portsmouth, and just before Gill and I emigrated to Canada, we attended a performance with Canadian Maynard Ferguson’s big band who were accompanying John Hendricks and Annie Ross. Dave Lambert had died two years earlier. Also, courtesy of Mike's record player and big band albums, I learned to appreciate the artistry of Miles Davis, Dizzie Gillespie, John Coltrane, Charlie Parker, Coleman Hawkins et al…. the list goes on. Sadly, I was never fortunate enough to see any of them play live. Although I know that I have seen some television performances. But what a difference it would have been to have seen and heard them in a small jazz club.
By contrast and in the State Rooms of Corsham Court, the young John Williams (guitar) and Jaqueline du Pre (cello) as well as the older Michael Tippet (piano) played for us students. Gill and I also made a trip into Bath to the Pump Room to see Julian Bream (guitar) in concert. In each case, it was pin-drop time and the performances were memorable. Although part of the Tippett memory is the sound of his long fingernails accompanying each note.
A couple of weeks after the Maynard Ferguson concert in Portsmouth and at the same venue, we saw John Lee Hooker who was touring with a British Blues band The Groundhogs. It seemed that we may have been the youngest members of the audience for Ferguson and the oldest for John Lee where the highlight of the concert was John Lee playing solo after the intermission. The Groundhogs were proficient enough but oh so loud. Hearing Hooker’s guitar and voice without accompaniment was a bonus.
Ironically, very shortly after we left for Canada, Dylan and the Band played the Isle of Wight - a short ferry-ride from Southsea where we lived from 1968-9. So much for the 1966 boos keeping him away from England. British fans, including more than a few folkies, had accepted amplification. Although, by all accounts, the concert was far from his best.
In London, Ontario and in the same venue as we saw Count Basie, embracing Canadian culture we attended a concert by Stompin’ Tom Connors who was on the bill with Hank Snow and Wilf Carter. By far the most interesting was Wilf Carter and it was noticeable that there were particular audiences for each artist. By contrast to large venues, the intimate settings of coffee houses provided a different experience. I happened upon a Gordon Lightfoot performance one lunchtime. And, on an afternoon at The Riverboat - Toronto's iconic Yorkville cafe - saw Sonny Terry and Brownie McGee and, later at the same venue, Ramblin’ Jack Elliott: a blast from my teenage, BBC-listening past.
I am not quite sure where or how to rate the experience of witnessing The Nihilist Spasm Band performing at the Brass Rail Tavern in London. As much as I may have thought that the Groundhogs were loud, the Nihilists were on another planet. Somehow, volume combined with a complete lack of harmony makes for sound that defies definition. Although I knew personally and liked a number of the band members that occasion proved to be a never-to-be-repeated 'musical' experience.
In 1971, for the opening of our group art exhibition Pie in the Sky in Toronto, we hired Downchild, a Toronto-based Blues band. Given the time and space involved, we were very much at the centre of their performance and they entertained for the best part of two hours.
In North Bay, Gill and I attended a Liona Boyd (guitar) concert. Sadly, the experience paled in comparison with memories of Julian Bream and John Williams. Also around the same time, I was one three Canadore faculty who took a group of students to visit design studios in Tooronto. Coincidentally, Rahsaan Roland Kirk was playing at the Colonial. He was brilliant. But his aggressive, seemingly bad-tempered stage presence, was a little much for the students. Hopefully, upon reflection they may remember and have grown into the experience more fondly. Kirk died within a couple of years of that particular booking.
After the move to Nova Scotia, I was taken to a John Prine concert. He was somebody that I hadn’t heard of but I quickly became a fan. There followed an early k.d. lang concert at the Lower Deck where k.d. was booked with her band The Reclines. k.d. has a hell of a voice and it was every bit as energetic and entertaining performance as we could have wished for. The Halifax Jazz festival also provided a number of memorable concerts with Bela Fleck (banjo) coming to mind at the top of my personal list. But jazz pianist Michael Kaeshammer at the Casino comes a close second. We were also fortunate enough to see the Chieftans, at a concert that was being taped for the CBC. The concert included Natalie MacMaster and also served to introduce us to Inuit throat singing.
Tina Turner's energy level at the Halifax concert matched k.d. lang. But the difference between the experience of an arena and a small bar made us wish Tina was playing the bar. Guy Davis' appearance at the Chester Playhouse was another treat; an intimate theatre setting with good acoustics that later served as the venue for us to experience the Irish American group Joanie Madden and Cherish the Ladies. Another great south shore musical experience occurred at a club near Boutilliers Point where we witnessed an incredible output of energy and talent by Cape Breton fiddler Ashley MacIsaac. By contrast in terms of energy, the young cellist Denise Djokic provided a sedate, but nonetheless very enjoyable musical experience in historic St. Paul's church in downtown Halifax.
At Dartmouth's Sportsplex, Bonnie Raitt was everything we hoped for other than that she was on very late in the evening and the unmarked seating was particularly uncomfortable. We had arrived early to be sure of our seats and, while the local blues acts held their own, they couldn’t quite make us forget the physical discomfort. Happily, the same could not be said of Bonnie's set. From there on and as if by magic, any and all physical discomfort went unnoticed.
To the best of my memory, this concludes the live-music record. But I know there must be a few more and, at the time of writing, top of a wish list of whom I would have liked to have heard play live would certainly have been J.J. Cale and Joni Mitchell.
Having said at the outset that my primary pre-occupation is now with the guitar, I have to add a significant nod to the Artiphon Orba, a hand-held synth looper. This remarkable piece of equipment allows me to build on guitar recordings made in garageband by adding percussion, bass and keyboard. Each 'instrument' is played one note at a time. It is a time-consuming way to work but it is really where, for me, audio can serve as a replacement for a visual process. Albeit in a very amateur way, I can build sound in a manner that feels very much akin to creating a collage. And, since first starting to write this record a year ago, I have acquired a Chorda, a twelve key synth looper, and a small midi-keyboard that I expect will expand the experience of messing around with digital sound. The beat goes on.
Growing up, most entertainment was audio. Front and centre was radio and what I remember most was the music. Then, in 1959 when I turned fifteen, my father bought me a cheap acoustic guitar and taught me a few chords. My otherwise-passive interaction with music became a little more active. Two tunes I recall that dad taught me were The Red River Valley and Up a Lazy River: the first a classic three-chords and the second, a more complex but still pretty simple structure. Both were in the key of C.
From then on I always owned at least one guitar. Although, now I regularly regret how little priority I dedicated to learning to play well. Essentially, guitars became a go-to when I needed to occupy my hands or claim time for myself. I never really practiced and was mostly content to work out how a tune goes before moving on to something new. I dabbled and that was enough for me. Now, I like to think that I am a little more serious. Although aging fingers don’t move fast or comfortably enough to make possible all that I would wish to accomplish. However, I still love the sound and feel of a guitar and appreciate the contribution that the instrument has made to my general and emotional well-being.
Even if all I am doing is tuning and tweaking, every day I try to spend some time with one or more of my instruments. At the moment, there happen to be ten guitars that call for my attention. As with the various qualities of art-making materials, I appreciate that each instrument has its own voice and feel. On the down side however, is that this 'appreciation' is perpetually in danger of 'needing' to hear and, of course, acquire more and more new voices.
As mentioned earlier, creation of the web site accommodated the needs of the visual, but now I find that spending more time with audio has meant spending more time listening to and reading about music and musicians. On this count Youtube, as an audio (and visual) archive, has proven to be a cornucopia of experience that can hold my attention for hours.
Recently, after watching and listening to archived footage of John Lee Hooker and Furry Lewis, I thought it would be interesting for me to take stock of the music and musicians that have remained important to me across the years including those who I have been fortunate to witness first-hand, playing live. Although my list begins at the beginning, as with the way memory often seems to work, what follows is not a record that is strictly in chronological order.
To begin with and as already mentioned, my early-memory musical experiences were courtesy of BBC radio as well as a few records owned by my parents - no live music for me yet. I was not taken to concerts. Although I do recall being at the side of a stage where my parents were performing. I am not sure what the event was - maybe something related to one of their work places: a concert party? - but dad was playing rhythm guitar and mum was singing and dancing. As far as I recall, that was very much a one-off.
Dating from childhood and still at the top of my list are the songs of Hoagy Carmichael. I know that, for the most part, he wrote the music while the lyrics were by one of his collaborators. But he was the face, and often the voice, of tunes that continue to resonate for me. And, in more recent years, I have come to appreciate that my more famous musical contemporaries, such as Eric Clapton and George Harrison, have similar affection for Hoagy’s music. Clapton’s Rockin’ Chair and Harrison’s Baltimore Oriole are great examples of how really good tunes can accommodate the voices and instruments of very different performers. At the same time as I was exposed to Hoagy, Django Reinhardt, Stephane Grappelli, Fats Waller and Cab Calloway were among other parental favourites: thus began my exposure to music.
In my late teens I started to collect blues and folk albums and was quite snobbish about what was and was not worth listening to. Somewhat typical of my taste was an album of songs of the coal miners. One track - A. L. Lloyd singing the Celebrated Working Man - has stuck with me to the point where, even today, I may find myself singing it in the shower. Music like this pointed me to performers such as Shirley & Dolly Collins, Martin Carthy, Joan Baez. Mississippi John Hurt and Leadbelly. They are all equally 'authentic' but, likely, a little more commercially viable than the miners. At that time I also came to appreciate jazz, primarily the musicians playing New Orleans style: George Lewis, King Oliver, Bunk Johnson, Sidney Bechet, etc. Also, like many of my peers, Skiffle became popular fare in part because it really did sound like something we could play ourselves. Performers such as Lonnie Donegan and Ken Colyer & The Vipers come to mind. And then there was a real musical eye-opener that came at everybody from left field. Dave Brubeck's Take Five was the antithesis of skiffle but really caught my imagination.
It was with this background and musical interests that I happened upon the Madhouse on Castle Street, a BBC television play that featured a very young Bob Dylan sitting on set at the bottom of a staircase playing The Ballad of the Gliding Swan.
At the time, 'interludes' on BBC news magazines often included performances by musicians such as Big Bill Broonzy, Ramblin’ Jack Elliot, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, and Nana Mouskouri. If they were 'in-town', they were booked. But the insight and daring of director Philip Saville to fly an unknown Bob Dylan to England was, for many of us Brits, musically life-changing. From that moment, Dylan became as important to me as Hoagy Carmichael. And, but for the unusual January snowstorm that brought much of the country to a standstill, I would have missed his performance of the Gliding Swan. On January 13 1963, I should have been back at art school (Corsham) without access to television. By February, when trains were running again, I returned to Corsham with a brand new copy of Dylan’s first self-titled LP which proved to be the only one on campus (Beechfield House). As a result, the album got a great deal of shared exposure.
In early 1964, Gill and I attended Dylan’s first concert at the Royal Festival Hall. We were in the balcony. The place was packed and, between songs, we could have heard a proverbial pin drop. After the intermission when Dylan returned to the stage, he found that somebody had filched his capo. Not to worry, there were so many guitars being carried by concert goers that many capos were offered and one was accepted. That's a concert goer that is probably still dining out on that memory.
What a difference at Dylan's Royal Albert Hall performance in 1966. This time, we were in the stalls about half way back from the stage. As with the Festival Hall, the audience was silently engaged during the first half of the programme. But the second half when The Hawks (later The Band) appeared, the boos began. People walked out while we enjoyed every moment but were quietly embarrassed by the audience reaction. Maybe this really would be the last time Dylan would cross the pond.
Meantime, back at Beechfield in 1963, my hut-mate (Mike Penny) had the only record player and he was a fan of the big bands, in particular Count Basie and Duke Ellington. Compared to the relative simplicity of New Orleans jazz, I found the big bands hard to take. But, as happens with many things in life, repeated exposure and careful attention can change the mind… and it did mine. Some seven years later, Gill and I sat in the second row at a concert about fifteen feet from Count Basie. Also, along the way I became, and still am, a great fan of Lambert, Hendricks and Ross who sang Basie's orchestral arrangements substituting their voices for the instruments in his orchestra. Several years before the Basie concert in Portsmouth, and just before Gill and I emigrated to Canada, we attended a performance with Canadian Maynard Ferguson’s big band who were accompanying John Hendricks and Annie Ross. Dave Lambert had died two years earlier. Also, courtesy of Mike's record player and big band albums, I learned to appreciate the artistry of Miles Davis, Dizzie Gillespie, John Coltrane, Charlie Parker, Coleman Hawkins et al…. the list goes on. Sadly, I was never fortunate enough to see any of them play live. Although I know that I have seen some television performances. But what a difference it would have been to have seen and heard them in a small jazz club.
By contrast and in the State Rooms of Corsham Court, the young John Williams (guitar) and Jaqueline du Pre (cello) as well as the older Michael Tippet (piano) played for us students. Gill and I also made a trip into Bath to the Pump Room to see Julian Bream (guitar) in concert. In each case, it was pin-drop time and the performances were memorable. Although part of the Tippett memory is the sound of his long fingernails accompanying each note.
A couple of weeks after the Maynard Ferguson concert in Portsmouth and at the same venue, we saw John Lee Hooker who was touring with a British Blues band The Groundhogs. It seemed that we may have been the youngest members of the audience for Ferguson and the oldest for John Lee where the highlight of the concert was John Lee playing solo after the intermission. The Groundhogs were proficient enough but oh so loud. Hearing Hooker’s guitar and voice without accompaniment was a bonus.
Ironically, very shortly after we left for Canada, Dylan and the Band played the Isle of Wight - a short ferry-ride from Southsea where we lived from 1968-9. So much for the 1966 boos keeping him away from England. British fans, including more than a few folkies, had accepted amplification. Although, by all accounts, the concert was far from his best.
In London, Ontario and in the same venue as we saw Count Basie, embracing Canadian culture we attended a concert by Stompin’ Tom Connors who was on the bill with Hank Snow and Wilf Carter. By far the most interesting was Wilf Carter and it was noticeable that there were particular audiences for each artist. By contrast to large venues, the intimate settings of coffee houses provided a different experience. I happened upon a Gordon Lightfoot performance one lunchtime. And, on an afternoon at The Riverboat - Toronto's iconic Yorkville cafe - saw Sonny Terry and Brownie McGee and, later at the same venue, Ramblin’ Jack Elliott: a blast from my teenage, BBC-listening past.
I am not quite sure where or how to rate the experience of witnessing The Nihilist Spasm Band performing at the Brass Rail Tavern in London. As much as I may have thought that the Groundhogs were loud, the Nihilists were on another planet. Somehow, volume combined with a complete lack of harmony makes for sound that defies definition. Although I knew personally and liked a number of the band members that occasion proved to be a never-to-be-repeated 'musical' experience.
In 1971, for the opening of our group art exhibition Pie in the Sky in Toronto, we hired Downchild, a Toronto-based Blues band. Given the time and space involved, we were very much at the centre of their performance and they entertained for the best part of two hours.
In North Bay, Gill and I attended a Liona Boyd (guitar) concert. Sadly, the experience paled in comparison with memories of Julian Bream and John Williams. Also around the same time, I was one three Canadore faculty who took a group of students to visit design studios in Tooronto. Coincidentally, Rahsaan Roland Kirk was playing at the Colonial. He was brilliant. But his aggressive, seemingly bad-tempered stage presence, was a little much for the students. Hopefully, upon reflection they may remember and have grown into the experience more fondly. Kirk died within a couple of years of that particular booking.
After the move to Nova Scotia, I was taken to a John Prine concert. He was somebody that I hadn’t heard of but I quickly became a fan. There followed an early k.d. lang concert at the Lower Deck where k.d. was booked with her band The Reclines. k.d. has a hell of a voice and it was every bit as energetic and entertaining performance as we could have wished for. The Halifax Jazz festival also provided a number of memorable concerts with Bela Fleck (banjo) coming to mind at the top of my personal list. But jazz pianist Michael Kaeshammer at the Casino comes a close second. We were also fortunate enough to see the Chieftans, at a concert that was being taped for the CBC. The concert included Natalie MacMaster and also served to introduce us to Inuit throat singing.
Tina Turner's energy level at the Halifax concert matched k.d. lang. But the difference between the experience of an arena and a small bar made us wish Tina was playing the bar. Guy Davis' appearance at the Chester Playhouse was another treat; an intimate theatre setting with good acoustics that later served as the venue for us to experience the Irish American group Joanie Madden and Cherish the Ladies. Another great south shore musical experience occurred at a club near Boutilliers Point where we witnessed an incredible output of energy and talent by Cape Breton fiddler Ashley MacIsaac. By contrast in terms of energy, the young cellist Denise Djokic provided a sedate, but nonetheless very enjoyable musical experience in historic St. Paul's church in downtown Halifax.
At Dartmouth's Sportsplex, Bonnie Raitt was everything we hoped for other than that she was on very late in the evening and the unmarked seating was particularly uncomfortable. We had arrived early to be sure of our seats and, while the local blues acts held their own, they couldn’t quite make us forget the physical discomfort. Happily, the same could not be said of Bonnie's set. From there on and as if by magic, any and all physical discomfort went unnoticed.
To the best of my memory, this concludes the live-music record. But I know there must be a few more and, at the time of writing, top of a wish list of whom I would have liked to have heard play live would certainly have been J.J. Cale and Joni Mitchell.
Having said at the outset that my primary pre-occupation is now with the guitar, I have to add a significant nod to the Artiphon Orba, a hand-held synth looper. This remarkable piece of equipment allows me to build on guitar recordings made in garageband by adding percussion, bass and keyboard. Each 'instrument' is played one note at a time. It is a time-consuming way to work but it is really where, for me, audio can serve as a replacement for a visual process. Albeit in a very amateur way, I can build sound in a manner that feels very much akin to creating a collage. And, since first starting to write this record a year ago, I have acquired a Chorda, a twelve key synth looper, and a small midi-keyboard that I expect will expand the experience of messing around with digital sound. The beat goes on.
August 2024
in alphabetical order:
performances & concerts attended
count basie, liona boyd, julian bream, wilf carter, stompin tom connors, john dankworth & cleo laine, guy davis, downchild,
jacqueline du pre, bob dylan (solo), bob dylan & the band,
'ramblin’ jack elliot, maynard ferguson, bela fleck, john hendricks,
john lee hooker, rahsaan roland kirk, k d lang & the reclines,
gordon lightfoot, joanie madden & cherish the ladies, brownie mcgee,
ashley macisaac, natalie macmaster, nihilist spasm band, john prine, bonnie raitt, annie ross, hank snow, the chieftains, the groundhogs, sonny terry, tina turner, john williams
a partial list of other performers, now gone, to whom I have paid particular attention and would have liked to see in concert
chet atkins, lennie breau, dave brubeck, charlie byrd, j j cale,
charlie christian, john coltrane, miles davis, duke ellington, herb ellis,
tal farlow, hank garland, stephane grappelli, george harrison,
barney kessel, b.b.king, dave lambert, charles mingus, wes montgomery, charlie parker, joe pass, les paul, oscar peterson, tom petty,
king pleasure, tampa red, django reinhardt, patrick sky, art tatum,
t bone walker, doc watson, charlie watts
and those performing who I'd still like to see. Predictably, this list is expanding with time
george benson, charles berthoud, grace bowers, eric clapton, ry cooder, robert cray, mohini dey, jerry douglas, tommy emmanuel, sue foley, robben ford, vince gill, stefan grossman, arlo guthrie, buddy guy,
stanley jordan, carol kaye, marcus king, mark knopfler, leo kottke,
alison krauss, albert lee, megan lovell, rebecca lovell, matteo mancuso,
john mayer, joni mitchell, keb mo, willie nelson, robert randolph, santana,
john scofield, billy strings, susan tedeschi, derek trucks, josh turner, molly tuttle, dan tyminski, tal wilkenfeld, steve winwood
March 2024