Five behind-the-scenes scenes at Newport Folk.
And a memory can build upon itself, over and over.
Last week I wrote about “Angel From Montgomery” and the memories inside of memories it holds.
And seeing John Prine this weekend, that story just continued to telescope out.
I was running around in our backstage area, uploading pictures, checking audio, on the phone with the station---just doing what I do, when I heard Prine start this song.
I didn’t want to miss it, but I didn’t have time to go all the way around to the front of the stage and watch the show. So I made a little beeline from our setup, in the interior courtyard of the Fort, to a room inside the Fort, that overlooks the stage from behind.
Literally, you can see John Prine’s back, 50 feet away. Over his shoulder is the crowd of thousands, and behind them, Newport Harbor and The Bridge.
“The best seat in the house,” said Barbara, who had materialized beside me.
She’d been doing her thing, and had the same notion, at the same time, as I.
Barbara commented on how great it sounded, this slowed down version of Prine’s tune. It really got to the heart of the song.
A nice shared moment with BD.
Later that night, we were back at Joe’s house. Saturday night at the festival, we have a late barbecue (after packing up for the day, it’s usually after 10pm before we get to dinner) and we rehash the day.
Musician Ryan Montbleau, who dates Jess, was with us for dinner, and of course we goaded him into bringing his guitar out.
After a few songs, he passed the guitar off to Barbara, and yes, the crowd insisted that she sing “Angel From Montgomery.”
Barbara tried to deflect the request, saying that there was no way she could do the song, after hearing Prine’s perfect version earlier that day. It just wouldn’t be right.
But the crowd would not be denied.
And yes, Barbara did an amazing version of the song. Some friends of friends were in the small group, and at the end of the night Barbara got big hugs from these former strangers, for her beautiful effort.
So now the song reminds me of Barbara singing solo on Ryan’s guitar which reminds me of watching Prine through a window in the Fort, which reminds me of Barbara singing with Kate Taylor’s Band, which reminds me of singing with friends in a farmhouse 15 years ago.
Stream the full Prine concert, or download it from our archives.
Showing posts with label angel from montgomery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label angel from montgomery. Show all posts
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
John Prine “Angel From Montgomery”
Five songs I’m looking forward to hearing again, in Newport.
Every year mvyradio heads down to Newport, to cover the Folk Festival. And every year has its share of anticipated performances. I thought I’d write this week about 5 songs I think I’ll hear in Newport, and what I’ll be thinking of as I hear them.
Today’s post is like one of those Russian nesting dolls---a memory inside a memory inside a memory.
In the years just prior to my time at mvyradio, I lived in Virginia, working at a station down there. I had a great group of friends---young, active music lovers.
And when we weren’t working, we were doing some combination of drinking, listening to music and singing. On a good night, all three.
There are probably hundreds of specific moments in those late, loud nights, to reflect back on. But if the director of the film of my life needed just one representative scene from that period, it would be the group, usually the girls in the group, singing “Angel From Montgomery.”
Years later, I’m on the Vineyard, working with another great group of friends, who also love listening to music and singing. And yes, raising a drink or two.
I knew that Barbara Dacey had really only had two jobs---working for mvyradio, and being a singer-songwriter. Yet somehow, even after knowing her for several years, I’d never heard her sing.
How pissed was I, the one year I left the Chili Contest early, only to hear later, that Barbara had gotten on stage with Johnny Hoy? I rode her about this for years.
Jump to 2008, and here we are again, drinking and listening to music, and preparing to sing. It’s the Newport Folk after-party, that we have at a private household, near Fort Adams. Kate Taylor is going to perform, and she’s invited Barbara to join her on stage.
Well, stage is a little bit of an overstatement.
When we come from the Vineyard to Newport, we stay at the home of the station owner, who has a house, and next to it, a large pool house, with several guest rooms. There is a large, living room/foyer where Kate and her band set up. And there’s a balcony overlooking that area, outside the 2nd floor rooms.
That was where I was standing, when Barbara took the stage. I’d gone up there, because I knew she was going to sing, and I wanted to call my wife so she could listen by cell. I wanted to be out of the first floor crowd, where I wouldn’t be noticed.
“I’m going to do a John Prine song,” announced Barbara. “This one is for PJ, because I know it’s one of his favorites. Where’s PJ?”
Fortunately, the lights in the room were low, and the crowd, which had all turned their eyes to me, alone on the balcony, couldn’t see the five shades of red I’d turned.
So when John Prine pulls this chestnut out on Sunday, I’ll think back to the balcony, to Barbara, to the Chili Contest, and to young, late, loud nights when my friends all sang for “one thing that I can hold on to.”
Every year mvyradio heads down to Newport, to cover the Folk Festival. And every year has its share of anticipated performances. I thought I’d write this week about 5 songs I think I’ll hear in Newport, and what I’ll be thinking of as I hear them.
Today’s post is like one of those Russian nesting dolls---a memory inside a memory inside a memory.
In the years just prior to my time at mvyradio, I lived in Virginia, working at a station down there. I had a great group of friends---young, active music lovers.
And when we weren’t working, we were doing some combination of drinking, listening to music and singing. On a good night, all three.
There are probably hundreds of specific moments in those late, loud nights, to reflect back on. But if the director of the film of my life needed just one representative scene from that period, it would be the group, usually the girls in the group, singing “Angel From Montgomery.”
Years later, I’m on the Vineyard, working with another great group of friends, who also love listening to music and singing. And yes, raising a drink or two.
I knew that Barbara Dacey had really only had two jobs---working for mvyradio, and being a singer-songwriter. Yet somehow, even after knowing her for several years, I’d never heard her sing.
How pissed was I, the one year I left the Chili Contest early, only to hear later, that Barbara had gotten on stage with Johnny Hoy? I rode her about this for years.
Jump to 2008, and here we are again, drinking and listening to music, and preparing to sing. It’s the Newport Folk after-party, that we have at a private household, near Fort Adams. Kate Taylor is going to perform, and she’s invited Barbara to join her on stage.
Well, stage is a little bit of an overstatement.
When we come from the Vineyard to Newport, we stay at the home of the station owner, who has a house, and next to it, a large pool house, with several guest rooms. There is a large, living room/foyer where Kate and her band set up. And there’s a balcony overlooking that area, outside the 2nd floor rooms.
That was where I was standing, when Barbara took the stage. I’d gone up there, because I knew she was going to sing, and I wanted to call my wife so she could listen by cell. I wanted to be out of the first floor crowd, where I wouldn’t be noticed.
“I’m going to do a John Prine song,” announced Barbara. “This one is for PJ, because I know it’s one of his favorites. Where’s PJ?”
Fortunately, the lights in the room were low, and the crowd, which had all turned their eyes to me, alone on the balcony, couldn’t see the five shades of red I’d turned.
So when John Prine pulls this chestnut out on Sunday, I’ll think back to the balcony, to Barbara, to the Chili Contest, and to young, late, loud nights when my friends all sang for “one thing that I can hold on to.”
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