Yes, believe it or not, Shakespeare and Company hosted an open mic last night, its first ever. This bookstore across from the Notre Dame Cathedral in the middle of Paris, this bookstore that has the famous name known around the world, sent out a Facebook event invitation the other day that I just could not resist taking up: “WORD – Open Mic / Slam / Improvisation,” it read.
“WORD the first open mic/slam/improvisation night upstairs in the library at Shakespeare and Company. Featuring musician extraordinaire Thos Henley & poet Rufo Quintavalle [Note from Brad: Rufo had to pull out and was replaced by someone else I will mention below]. Everyone welcome to watch or participate!,” said the announcement. “Chaired by Adam Biles,who is editor of Gulper Eel, Paris musician extraordinaire Thos Henley and poet Rufo Quintavalle will kick of the evening.”
So I could not resist. A very interesting and excellent idea was that each “performer” was limited to just five minutes per slot. And the rule was administered with an iron fist. In fact, before the show proper began, Adam told the audience that they could applaud, express delight, anything they wanted during the presentations, but to not heckle. He then added that there was one instance in which they were allowed to heckle: If the performer received the ring of the timer and went over five minutes and refused to stop….
I’ve never seen that in an open mic. And it is welcome, until, of course, it is YOUR turn behind the mic.
In any case, the evening was so fantastic I barely know where to start. The most obvious place, in fact, is to say that the whole first floor of the bookstore was just crammed with people. There was no moving room, and I spent the whole time out in the stairwell, looking into the performance room. (That is the vantage point of the videos I took.) It was just PACKED; in fact, I heard one person apparently close to the bookstore say afterwards that she thought it must be the most successful event they have ever had.
As it turned out, there were only three musical interludes and the rest was prose and poetry. It also turned out that there was to be a judging for the best “performance” of the evening. I’m not sure who all the judges were, but they included Thos Henley and the man who made a special last-minute arrival as a judge and special guest (to replace Rufo the poet), the Australian writer Luke Davies.
Thos Henley started off the show with a couple of songs. As it turned out, he and I had played last year at a special musical evening at the Disquaires bar near Bastille. Then began the real slam “competition.” I managed to make a few videos, but I think I was tuning my guitar when the person who ended up winning the competition did her number. It’s too bad, as not only would I have liked to have done a video of her, but she also gave me a nice compliment on my song – “Since You Left Me” – before we learned she won.
I was not happy about the way I sang the song, as I was overly nervous about the fact of singing only one, and having no good mic or sound system, and an audience I felt was mostly there for the literary aspect of the evening. All sorts of reasons, but none good.
Anyway, this winner was Jenny Zhang, and the judges gave her top marks, as you can see from the video I did of their speech announcing who won and why.
In any case, it was a fabulous evening and I felt that they wanted to do it again – and I hope so. I’ve decided to simply throw all the videos down below one after the other (my apologies for the shaky camera movement, but I was standing on a staircase a lot and had to move to let people pass, and that kind of thing):
Did the Highlander again last night, but I really wanted to mention today that I’m devouring the November issue of MOJO magazine that I picked up in the airport in France on my way to Korea last week. I grabbed it without noticing that the issue is dedicated to Jac Holzman and the Elektra Records label he founded in 1950.
mojo Elektra issue
I wrote a story about Holzman a few years ago that I have put up in the articles section of this blog. In October, Elektra celebrated its 60th anniversary, and so is Mojo. There is a story about the top albums, there is an interview with Holzman, and a few other things. Great issue, and that, of course, is a great story. Elektra, of course, recorded The Doors, Judy Collins, Phil Ochs, Tim Buckley, Love, Harry Chapin, Iggy and the Stooges, and many more. The MOJO issue also comes with a CD compilation of songs put together by Holzman.
When I first looked in through the dark and gloomy window of the closed Tony’s Aussie Bar in the Itaewon district of Seoul last night my heart dropped down a few beats. It looked really small and dark, and it was at the top of a dreary hill in a great neighborhood – which lay just a minute’s walk down the hill, and not up here at this location. Add to that the sudden freezing weather, and I thought, “Oh man, I’ve got friends who said they would be coming tonight to hear me play at Tony’s and what the hell am I getting them into?”
Brad playing with Tony on drums at Tony's Aussie Bar (Photo: Simon Arron)
The only thing that gave me hope was the sight of a drum set in the corner, with a microphone stand perched high above the drums. Yes, Monday was advertised as being open mic night at Tony’s Aussie Bar, and clearly there was a mic – and there a drum set that indicated music was really part of the deal.
But I still had visions of having my friends show up – a couple of F1 journalists, and from another part of Seoul, Suki and her friend, as well as possibly a journalist from the Korea Times – and say, “Gee, thanks for dragging us all out here…for nothing, Brad.”
Another thing I started worrying about was, “Where do I eat?” I had looked at the menu for Tony’s on the Internet and thought it looked passable. But seeing the place from the outside, I thought, no. It seems to seat no more than 20 people, I thought, and the menu looks…less than acceptable. Worse, the whole Itaewon area was full of Italian restaurants, a French restaurant, bakeries, pubs, Korean and other restaurants, a real delight for the palate. And I’d eat at Tony’s?
Itaewon, was, on the other hand, a real contrast to the area Suki took me to on my first day in Seoul last week. There in that university area I saw barely a single foreign face. Here, I seemed to see barely a single Korean face. (Suki would later tell me her friend was a little worried about coming to Itaewon since it was reputed to have so many foreigners!)
In the end, I opted to eat at Tony’s. I had so many people potentially showing up, that I thought it would not be good form to show up last after gorging myself on some Italian meal and wine down the road. Thank goodness I made this decision! Thank goodness I chose Tony’s! The world changed when the lights went on and the bar opened, and above all, Tony and his gang showed up for the open mic.
When I arrived there was only one person present, an American expat woman who acts as an editor and writer in a local expat magazine about life in Seoul. I thought the place would be empty to the end. Wrong.
I ordered my meal. Mostly hamburgers, fish, and other publike fare, I went for the so called lamb steak with French fries. It said it was pure Australian lamb, so I thought that maybe with a name like Aussie bar, it might be true. It was. And when Tony arrived, he told me that he prepared all the food in the place, and that it was all authentic stuff. The lamb turned out to be fabulous, and was in fact part of the shoulder of lamb.
“We have a corral out back and I supervise the chopping up of the meat,” Tony said, joking. Tony, by the way, is from Sydney, and he has run his bar for about 4 and a half years, and lived in Korea for nine years.
He had a pea soup with a kind of pie or dumpling in it that the woman ordered. And with my meat I was served mint sauce in a bottle, which Tony said he made as well.
I finished with an apple pie and ice cream. The presentation of this was a complete, circular, apple pie, but miniature – a single portion. Good ice cream too.
And one of my favourite parts of the meal was the best bottle of wine I had since arriving in Korea nearly a week before. A Hardy’s Shiraz of 2008, bought for 33,000 won.
In short, I was in culinary bliss… ok, not quite – the meat was a little too cooked – but I did not regret this choice at all! I thought of how horrible it would have been to miss it, in fact.
It was nearing 9:30 when I pulled out my guitar to tune it, and the bar began to fill up with musicians and spectators, including my F1 journalist friends, and before them Suki and her friend.
The open mic evening at Tony’s Aussie Bar turned out to be a cross between an open mic and a jam session. Tony manned the drums throughout, and a friend of his, Freddie, played a very cool six-string bass. That was a nice instrument to have since it provided a replacement for lead guitar occasionally too.
Tony wears a baseball cap, has long hair in a ponytail, and a beard. He likes to make quips throughout the evening, and as the open mic began the atmosphere had developed from a slightly cold thing when I first entered the black interior with the painting of the ocean as backdrop to the playing area, into a warm room of music and joy.
First up was a guy of 50 years old – he told us his age at one point through some kind of a story he wanted us to hear in introduction to a song – who looked like he was some kind of business executive who played music on the side. (Hmm, I’m thinking of that song in the French musical, Starmania, “Le Blues du Businessman” – “j’aurais voulu etre un artiste……”
This man played Tony’s cream-colored Stratocaster that Tony said he dug up somewhere in two or three pieces and had repaired. All four of this man’s songs sounded to me as if they had been minted in the style and influence of the Talking Heads.
It was a nice warm up, and got everyone into the swing of things. Tony offered that I go up next. So I started out by playing my usual “Crazy Love,” in order to warm up my voice, my guitar playing, and the group effort. Then I did my new song, “Borderline,” the first time I have ever played it in a group situation like that – aside from playing with the kids out in the street in Mokpo, but that was just another rhythm guitar, not a bass and drums. In any case, it went well. I felt Tony’s drums really adding a dimension, and the song is very rhythmic and pretty fast.
Next I did, “Since You Left Me,” another of my songs, and also pretty strong rhythmically. Here at the beginning because I could barely hear my guitar or voice, I also made a little mess of the chords and rhythm at first. But I eventually got it all together.
Since the first guy had played four songs, I thought I should just do four. So I finished with Cat Stevens’ “Father and Son.” I messed up the transition after each chorus, since there’s a bit of a rhythmic change with that fingerpicking stuff, and I even made a huge stop all together, but in the end, it worked out fine too.
Soon Tony was joined on a bongo drum by Josh, who was born in Dallas, but lived in Korea most of his life, from what I could figure. He looked like the lead singer for REM and had a wicked and warped sense of humor.
The next singer, guitar player was a Canadian musician named Yvon Malenfant. That name may sound French, but Yvon comes from Moncton, New Brunswick. His guitar was custom built for him, and he said the design was a cross between two Martins. I tried it out after the show and it was very nice, indeed.
I most enjoyed his song called “Cry.” His voice sounded very Neil Young on that, and his guitar playing was very agreeable. Again, these guys had their act together. Yvon is another regular at Tony’s Aussie Bar, so they had played together frequently. Yvon teaches English and a couple of other things – including counselling – at a university in Seoul, and he is married to a Korean jazz pianist.
That was the end of it. They played several songs, and with “Cry,” Tony said he wanted to dedicate that song to a friend, a woman, who had just committed suicide the week before. It was a woman who frequently showed up at the bar. It was a touching tribute, but I kept thinking to myself, evenings like that are examples, or reasons, why it is important to hold on, go the distance, and not back down.
P.S. On my last night in Mokpo I again met with my friends in the street of the Roses and we busked for a couple of hours, earned a lot of money this time as we had grown used to playing together and had a few songs down pat and we had a fabulous last night.
P.P.S. At the airport I saw more evidence this was a music-loving country with a space set aside for Korean culture and music. I made a little video of the beautiful and great musician playing her harp-like instrument, below.
Last night after a day at the races, I returned to my hotel with and decided to dine with a couple of Formula One journalist colleagues. As we made our way through the Formula One festival in Mokpo on our way to an Italian restaurant, I heard music coming from one of the performance stages on our route. It got my juices flowing as it was just an acoustic guitar and voice, and I thought, “Hmmm, I wonder if there is anyway I can finagle my way up onto that stage???”
I asked my colleagues if I could indulge a little of their time just to check out the stage situation, and they agreed. As we approached and I saw a Korean man playing guitar and singing into a mic in front of an audience in chairs in front of the stage – not a massive audience, but a nice one – I said to one of my colleagues, “This guy seems awfully much like one of the guys I busked with in the street last night.”
My colleagues told me to go on and see if I could speak to the man hosting the show, the man with another mic in his hand, standing off to the side. And as we arrived at the stage, the performer got down off the stage and his set was finished and the MC announced a dancing act of young women to follow. But suddenly the singer/guitar playing and I realized that, yes, we had met up again. It was Won Jin, with whom I had busked the previous night.
We greeted each other warmly and I introduced Won Jin to my colleagues. It became clear quickly that there was a fixed show on the stage and I would not be able to gate crash, but Won Jin asked me if I was going to show up again later to busk on Rose Street at 10 PM, and agreed to do so. He also said he had a full show on the stage today at 5 PM. But I told him I had to attend the race, so could not see his show.
So off I went with my colleagues and we ate in the Italian restaurant, and at the end of the meal I took out my guitar to tune it, and one of the colleagues – we were now 5 at the table – suggested I do a song. So I sang “Crazy Love” in the Italian restaurant. Fortunately it was not too posh, so rather than being kicked out, I was applauded by the Korean waiters and waitresses.
Then I returned to Rose Street and played for nearly an hour, during which time another Formula One journalist – a photographer – colleague passed by and was surprised to see me playing in the street. But he realized too that I had new found friends that not many of the journalists without guitars had, and that the idea of carrying around a guitar to all the races wasn’t so bad, actually. I agreed.
I think I found out last night why all the music bars have been empty in the new downtown area of Mokpo: The entire population of the city and all its visitors have been congregating down at the waterfront in a music and fun festival surrounding the Formula One race. I made a quick visit to see if there would be any chance of finding a microphone or stage for MY music, and quickly realized it was not possible.
So I headed back to the downtown area – the new downtown as opposed to the old downtown – and made my way to Rose Street, also known as “The Street of the Roses,” where I reported finding some music places yesterday. It was getting late and I’d had Korean barbecues for the last two nights, so I opted for pizza at the “11 A.M. Coffee Shop,” which is just below Moe’s Bar and Grill.
After I ordered the pizza I asked my waiter if he knew of any places I could go and sing and play my guitar and my music. I decided to cash in on his friendliness and his excellent English.
“Oh, just out there,” he said, pointing to the square on the pedestrians-only Street of the Roses that faced the coffee shop. “These guys go out and play there every night at 10 PM. You could go out and join them.”
I was slightly skeptical, and I could not quite believe that some guys would show up at precisely 10 PM to play in the square.
But as I sat down at 10 PM and began reading my MOJO magazine – still stuck in the August issue, though I have the November one too – as I waited for the pizza to cook, the waiter came up to me and said, “Come out here for a second.”
He led me out onto the terrace and pointed out two or three guys sitting on a bench and playing guitars and singing. They had just arrived.
“Great,” I said.
“They play pop music,” said the waiter.
“So do I,” I said.
“Oh, good, I’m really excited to hear you!” said the waiter, and that seemed to seal it for me.
Not to mention that I knew I had an open mic lined up for Monday in Seoul, so I did not want to take the risk of seeing all my time in Mokpo disappear without a little musical interlude of some kind. For the moment I had only managed a few songs each night in my hotel room.
So I ate my pizza, then ordered a cup of ice cream, then went out to the square. A small audience of mostly young women had gathered around the boys on the guitars. There were two guys who played guitar, and another guy who added some vocals and another who mostly watched, but occasionally drummed on the guitar case.
As soon as I entered the square one or two of the guys motioned me over to play, as they saw my guitar on my back. I nodded, took a concrete post as a seat and finished my ice cream while I listened to them.
Ice cream finished, I whipped out my guitar and began playing what would turn into an hour and a half of jamming, singing along, playing together, with Won Jin, Ye Eum, Seo Hyun and MJ. They all looked in their late teens to early 20s. They played some Korean songs, bust mostly the pop standards we hear all over the world, like “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door,” and all the rest. I played some Cat Stevens, Van Morrison, Dylan, Beatles, Lennon, and even a couple of my songs too, and they played along. We exchanged rhythm, lead, harmony and other vocal roles, and basically had a great time.
They all want me to return tonight. “Every night, here, after 10 PM,” said Won Jin, who seemed like the most dominant of them all – and the one I record mostly on the guitar and vocals on this page.
So I may well return there for another jam tonight. After I played last night I returned to Moe’s for a beer, and there I met an American expat English teacher woman from Florida, named Kelly, who told me that she saw these guys all the time. If they are indeed the same ones, she said they are actually professional musicians who play in bars in the old downtown area regularly. But they like coming to the Street of the Roses to play in that square at the end of the night.
I did too. Again, it built up the human dimension of my visit to this country I had huge misgivings about visiting before I came here – stories of a lousy rural area where the race takes place, a long horrible ride down from Seoul, inhospitable this and that – and which I actually now find to be one of my favorite trips this year….
I arrived exhausted in Seoul on Wednesday evening and immediately made my way over to a dinner date with Suki in the Hongik University area. Suki, whom I met at some musical evenings in Paris this year, and who is a music aficionado, wanted to show me around the neighborhood, which is full of bars and musical joints.
We had a dinner – actually, I did, since she had eaten already – at a Korean barbecue, and then headed over to one of her favorite joints, an underground music bar with a huge screen that shows music videos all night. You select the music you want to hear, and if they have a video, they put it up. I selected Van Morrison’s “Crazy Love,” and “Under the Bridge” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. No go on the Van Morrison – too old, no doubt – but the Chili Peppers was great.
The area reminded me very much of Tokyo, although until then I had been surprised at how western the city looked to me compared to the other places I have been in Asia (Singapore, Shanghai, Malaysia and Japan).
There was no open mic, however, but on my walk back to my hotel I did find a musical joint that seemed to be a cross between open mic and karaoke, with recorded music backing and people from the public singing and hitting a tambourine and another percussion instrument. But I was so exhausted after not sleeping on the flight and having an early rise the following morning, that I opted out. In fact, I have an open mic lined up for Monday evening on my return to Seoul – so standby, and I keep my fingers crossed on it.
I am now writing this post from the town of Mokpo, which is the nearest city to the Yeongam Formula One circuit, where the race takes place this weekend. Last night I scoured through the main bar and music area of Mokpo, which turns out to be right next to my hotel. The main street is called Rose Street, and it has all sorts of cafes, bars and musical joints of one kind or another.
(My hotel, by the way, is called the Charmant, and my room overlooks Love Square, and the hotel sits next to a “sexy girls” venue of some kind. This is par for the course accommodation here at the Grand Prix.)
Unfortunately, my explorations of Rose Street revealed no place for me to play last night. I did find one place called “Live Cafe,” which had a stage all decked out with speakers, drum set, mic and other musical apparatus. But there was no band and no public at all. The owner indicated there would be no music last night. But I will try it again this weekend, as it looks promising.
I also found on the Internet a bar called Moe’s Bar and Grill. It is run by a Californian, but it turns out that while it seemed to advertise live music on the internet, there was none. Not surprise, actually, as there was no grill either. Just booze. A nice place, though, and I enjoyed a beer there, along with some of the Australian track marshals for the Formula One race. The nice bartender woman from Mongolia told me I was welcome to play music if I wanted to, but the atmosphere did not seem entirely right – too many people having a nice talk around the bar and probably not wanting to have some guy interrupt them with his songs.
I have not given up on Mokpo, though, and tonight I will explore all of the areas that have been set aside in a festival to celebrate the Formula One race. There are concerts with Korean bands and other festivities. Maybe there will be a corner of a stage or some other place where I can get in a song or two.
No time to go into any long-winded details – you’re spared – as I’m in preparation to fly to Seoul, South Korea, tonight for the next week, the F1 race and a musical evening or two (or preferably more).
To I just wanted to make note of last night in Paris, which actually fits a little into the above sentence, for last night I caught Sood on video doing a song on his own at the Tennessee bar. Sood is from…South Korea. He now lives in Paris. But he has a lot of energy on the guitar AND on the vocals. Check out the video.
I showed up at the Tennessee around 9:30, found it way too full and knew I’d never get on before midnight. So I left for the Galway and Stephen Prescott finished his set and put me up first! It was nice, although I was not very happy with my performance – except my last song when I finally said, “To hell with everyone, I’m singing this for me.” That was my song, “Let Me Know.”
I stayed for a few more performers’ sets and then I returned to the Tennessee. This time I was too late as it was almost midnight. So I ended up not getting to go up. But I did see Sood and then I saw what the MC James referred to as the North African Mafia, and they were good – especially as usual, Karim’s wicked guitar playing.
I just had to write this down, as I prepare to fly off to Korea tomorrow for the Formula One race (if the Paris strikes do not prevent me from going). Yesterday was the third week in a row that I hosted my own brunch afternoon on Earle’s invitation at Le Mecano bar and restaurant in the Oberkampf area of Paris. And it was another wild and fun time. In fact, this time the music got really exotic and crazy, and the whole thing went on until after 7 PM, after starting at 3PM.
I told him to go get it, and I immediately asked David if he had some songs that would go well with a violin, and he said he thought he might. Indeed. We ended up being treated to another hour of fabulous music by David, Joe and a friend of David’s who came in and provided harmonies on a number of the songs as well.
It was pure bliss for an hour, and promises great things for the future. In the middle of my second second set we also had a nice moment with me doing “Mr. Tambourine Man” and “Ring of Fire” with my friend Rym, and a solo number with our friend Elise, who played guitar and sang in what she said was her first ever appearance behind a mic. It will not be her last, I’m sure of that.
Reign Morton popped up again last night at the Bizz’art venue on the Quai de Valmy, singing in the Sankofa Soul Competition. This is a huge French singing competition for soul music, and it was designed to help show off the young, new talent in France, train the talent and reward the talent. First prize is an all expenses paid trip to a singing academy in Texas.
paris sankofa soul competition poster
Reign, readers of this blog will remember, has blown me out of my seat in recent weeks at the Tennessee bar, and I guess my sense of things is not too far off, as Reign has also been blowing the judges and voting spectators out of their seats at the Bizz’art (which is not the same as the Bizart I wrote about recently), and he has been working his way through the various levels of the competition. Last night, he came in first place amongst the nine or so competitors and he therefore moves on to the quarter finals of this competition.
It turned out that the Bizzart was within a 15 minute walk from the open mic I intended to take part in, the Culture Rapide open mic in Belleville, so I decided to drop in to hear Reign first. I managed to arrive in this crowded, dark venue with a bar and cocktail tables on the ground floor and a mezzanine with diners at white-table clothed tables above. I immediately liked the vibe and felt like I was in New York or L.A. And I got there just in time. I heard one of the competitors, and then she was immediately followed by Reign.
So I ordered my beer and made my way to the side of the stage as close as I could get – which was not real close – and I managed to film all of Reign’s performance. Blew me and the crowd away. Check out my video, and keep in mind that I only had one hand available and had to raise it high – so the camera is shaky. Reign’s performance was very full, very complete, with the style of singing drawing the best out of him and never being monotonous, and then he moved into some fine dancing bits, got the audience participating both vocally and with hand clapping. A maestro performance.
I was a little worried when the guy after him did a good job of a real tear-jerker song, but I suppose the judges were smart enough to see that as good as that guy’s performance was, it was not the whole complete number that Reign produced. Because Reign won the night.
I had a real debate with myself whether I should stay and watch his second number, but I decided that ultimately I’m out there to perform myself, and not only to keep these blog notes about it. So I left, thinking Reign was certainly the best and if he didn’t win it would be through some trick or ruse of another wiley performer – or a failure on the judges’ part.
I said hello to Reign and after a real warm bear-hug greeting from him right after he got off the stage, he went off and ducked out into a seat in the audience and retreated into himself. I figured that was exactly where he should be, and I left and went to the Culture Rapide.
There I performed two songs, “Just Like a Woman,” and then my own song, “Since You Left Me.” There were not very many performers, but the audience was kind and good and kept quiet during my first song, and a couple of people asked me if I would perform another later – you only do one each set – and I said I would. It then turned out there was a third set, but I had suddenly become swamped by a feeling of “I want to get out of here.”
It’s a weird feeling that I sometimes get after performing, and it’s a kind of alienating thing, where you suddenly withdraw into yourself after you’ve been so expansive on stage and let out all your emotions and reached out and flown into the stratosphere or whatever that place is that you reach on stage when things go well and you feel painted to the stage. Today I went to Reign’s Facebook page and found that he had put up a thing where he said in his status: “Reign Morton wonders why he gets so shy when he comes off stage after a performance… after being so exposed like that, the first thing i want to do is climb into a little hole and block out the sun. Is that normal?”
And I realized that was exactly the same thing I feel sometimes. I jokingly responded that this is just a form of “postcoital depression.” But I actually think it is a form of that same phenomenon: It’s the come down from the high moment on stage. Dare I compare it to a cocaine crash landing, or other drug thing. Fortunately it does not last long or even always happen. But it does sometimes. And, yes, I’d say it’s perfectly natural. But I probably should have stayed to perform again last night in the third set – instead I walked off the postcoital depression through the dark and cold Paris streets. Did the trick.
Let’s hope Reign wins the full competition. Check out the video I did of his song last night and you get an idea of why he won.
I will keep my wordage to an absolute minimum here since I have written so much about the Highlander. Suffice to say that it was a thoroughly enjoyable open mic in Paris last night, and that like the one on Monday I had a meeting of minds with a foreign group on visit to this country. Also had a reunion with Ollie Fury for the first time since we played together in Singapore a few weeks ago. And got to see live David Broad play his St. James Infirmary, which is superb.
I enjoyed their songs, especially the fun one about drinking up. And afterwards I spoke to Edel and found a lot of common ground, not just in music but in an interest in writing. But the high moment of that conversation was surely when we both connected totally on Paul Brady’s version of Arthur McBride, and we sang a few of the versions together. We both knew the video below as a high point of the return to Irish traditional music:
Here are a few of the videos I took from last night at The Highlander, oh, yes, and Thomas Brun’s version of the Dylan song, “Tangled Up in Blue,” which I love singing too, but cannot memorize….
