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by Mike Sheahan
It had to happen, it is finally
official. To quote my mom and the cartoon dog Snoopy it is “sum-sum-summertime.”
Proof can be found on your calendar or by the fact that the
Telluride Bluegrass Festival happens this weekend. The granddaddy
of all regional music festivals, Telluride still gets away with
calling itself a “bluegrass” festival when really
it has little to do with bluegrass music. Remember Jackson Browne
and Natalie Merchant from years past? They’re about as
bluegrass as I am a flamboyant hairdresser from West Hollywood.
The Telluride festival is already sold out, surely with most
tickets going to wealthy Californians or folks from Boulder.
But for my local, loyal readers who have tickets and are going,
here are a couple highs and lows. Don’t miss Emmylou Harris
with her band, Spyboy, on Saturday evening. No matter her age,
Harris can own a stage and have an audience more captivated
than anyone half her age. She has three distinct musical eras
from which to draw, and there’s no reason to expect that
she won’t represent them all brilliantly. Just make sure
you run away immediately following Miss Harris’ set as
Nashville music superstar Vince Gill will bring his radio-friendly
cheese to a stage just blessed by one of country music’s
finest. It ain’t right.
If Vince Gill doesn’t chase you out of town, then Sunday
brings two personal favorites. The ever-engaging Michelle Shocked
plays in the morning and the ham-sandwich-in-hungry-town that
is Alison Krauss plays at night. Both are worth popping a squat
in your tent or condo while Vince “rocks” out. As
a further sign of massive sellout, the whole festival will be
broadcast on XM, the new satellite radio system available to
those of us who own top-end SUVs or Willie Nelson’s tour
bus.
Those of us who refuse, or can’t afford, to attend the
star-studded event in Telluride need not despair. There is enough
happening right here in our little corner to keep you away from
that pretentious Yup-hole.
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| The Gourds |
The Gourds, of Austin, Texas, must really love playing in Durango
because they are back for a third show at Storyville. This week
they’ll take the stage Friday, June 20. If you are staying
in town, and especially if you’ve not seen a Gourds show,
get a ticket and go. Their music is one part rock, one part
bluegrass, one part folk and two parts crazy. The Gourds deliver
a show not to be missed, and like every one of their shows in
Durango, this one will sell out. Last winter, the Gourds played
two consecutive sold-out shows, this week they play only one.
Sometimes it’s hard to remember that Durango is a many-faced
town, but it is. On any given night downtown, one can find a
gaggle of nose-pierced, hair-dyed kids hanging around the Shred
Shed. Not too long ago I came across a group of cowboy-hat,
peg-leg-pant wearing kids hanging around a flatbed truck blaring
a Jeff Foxworthy comedy tape and hassling hippies on bikes.
To me that meant only one  thing:
Rodeo season must be starting soon. And dang if I wasn’t
right. This weekend begins the season of man’s domination
of the animal kingdom with a barbecue beef dinner. What better
way to kick off a rodeo than by hosting a feast comprised of
one’s fellow competitors? Kids can join in the fun in
an event called “mutton busting,” in which they
hold onto the neck of a sheep and attempt to hang on for five
seconds. If there is an adult version of said event, color me
the champ. The Durango Pro Rodeo takes place at the La Plata
County Fairgrounds every Friday and Saturday night throughout
the summer.
This week’s sign that all is well: A few sporting seasons
were recently completed when the New Jersey Devils beat the
Anaheim Mighty Ducks for the Stanley Cup (thus keeping Anaheim
from thinking it is a real city). Then, the San Antonio Spurs
beat the New Jersey Nets, thus keeping Jersey from thinking
it is anything but a mullet factory. The best thing about the
NBA Finals is that David Robinson, one of the last great, classy
players and ambassadors of the game, went out the way Michael
Jordan should have. As a winning leader and a champion, Robinson
– despite of all his “glory to God” talk –
should, instead of Allen Iverson, be the most popular NBA player
of this time. The game, and I, will miss him.
This week’s album to own: Say you are on a cross country
trip with some friends and the 2 a.m. to 6 a.m. driving shift
has fallen in your lap. Naturally, you’ll want some music
that will keep alive the romance of the road while allowing
your carmates to get their Zs.
The latest by Jay Farrar is possibly the best choice of new
music. Atmospheric, moody and catchy enough, “Terroir
Blues” is a natural progression in the Uncle Tupelo/Son
Volt/Jay Farrar vein. At times country (“Hard is the Fall,”
“Hanging on to You”), it also is musically adventurous
(“No Running Back”). This new record is set around
a table of short tracks called “Space Junk,” and
the whole album listens like a 90-minute road trip rather that
a collection of songs. It may be “Space Junk,” but
if I’m left alone on the highway there’s not another
disc I want with me. “Terroir Blues” takes a couple
listens, but so do all the good ones.
You ropin’ doggies? mpsheahan@yahoo.com
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