Paris Open Mics | Brad Spurgeon's Blog

Great Use for Crap Guitar and other NEW things

February 8, 2011
bradspurgeon

martin travel guitar

At the Tennessee bar and the Galway last night I spotted some new things to write about: First was the great use of one of the worst guitars that exists in the world. When I started travelling around the world two years ago playing music I decided to check out all the travel guitars, and I quickly concluded and discovered that it didn’t matter what size the guitar was, the airplane would let you on board or not. So I stuck with my regular guitar, my Seagull S6. But one of the guitars I had tried was a piece of shit, and I could never understand how anyone could buy one for the crap sound it gives off…until last night I saw someone at the Tennessee doing a fabulous thing with it: Slide guitar. Check out the video. And the most mystifying thing about this piece of crap is that it is a Martin!

Then after that came Rony Boy playing this jazz standard on his Godin electric – same company as the Seagull – and he did a mighty fine job of a song that I know well for having been played by Lenny Breau on an amazing recording as a young man, at 20 with Levon Helm on drums and Rick Danko on acoustic bass – both of whom would later make up The Band and play with Bob Dylan.

After that, over to the Galway where for the second time that night Ollie Fury played his wonderful new song, and both he and Stephen Danger Prescott for a change played Dylan, and did it in their own ways, as you can also see from the video. All in all, a satisfactory “new” night.

By the way, Rony Boy will be playing on the same bill with me in his band The Romantic Black Shirts, at the Disquaires on 27 February in Paris when I perform with my little band of gypsies for the first time, and Calvin McEnron will also play a set.

An Amazing Brunch, and Checkmate: Finally a Different Open Mic in Paris

February 7, 2011
bradspurgeon

First I have to talk about Saturday night, since Robert Kubica’s accident in rally racing yesterday meant I had no time for this blog before I sped off to the brunch at the Mecano bar. (I had to do a blog item and update on my F1 blog on the NYT site.)

But what a Saturday and Sunday! Saturday I attended a jam/open mic that I had discovered existed one day as my eye was attracted to a bar on Rue St. Maur – the street where I got my head kicked in on New Year’s Eve – with the name in French of L’Echiquier. That means chessboard in French. So that, as deep readers of this blog will know, would be of interest to me since I love chess. But then I saw a sign on the window about an open mic. And that, well…

It turns out that the bar has a theme of chess, with matches played there occasionally, with chessboard tiling in the toilets, and drinks named after chess themes, etc. And this is because Djamel Grine, who owns the place, likes chess too. But he told me his original idea was that he wanted the bar to be public place open to everyone: the King, the Queen, the bishop (which in French is called a “fou” and also means “crazy person.”)

He also loves music, so he started the jams and open mics. There is no set date for it, but they manage to do one at least once a month, on a Saturday. So best to call l’Echiquier beforehand to see if there is a session.

It was a very warm open mic, and I was pleased that although it started like a typical bluesy sort of jam session with full band, it was also possible and welcome for an individual musician to go up and sing and play guitar, cover songs or originals. I played with the band, since I like that challenge and it is more fun and “big.” We played “Crazy Love,” because it was easy, “Father and Son,” because it was more difficult but well known, and my song “Borderline,” just because. I finished off with “I Shall Be Released,” since it is three chords and really well known.

Having had that magnificent Saturday evening, I worried that my own brunch would never match it. I was wrong. It must have been the Sunday of all my brunches where I had the largest number of other performers who wanted to play – and who did play. There were seven of us in all. I played a lot less in order to allow for the others, and that was great, because it meant I could talk to the others and listen to them.

And Olivier Rodriguez, a friend and amazing photographer, showed up for the second week in a row to play his songs and this time he brought his camera and did some great shots of us and said I could put them up on this blog.

Community Center Music Night Near the Place de la Nation

January 29, 2011
bradspurgeon

Open mics take all sorts of forms, and one that I have barely explored is that of the local community center. Last night in the Centre d’animation Montgallet, near the Metro Montgallet, in the 12th Arrondissement in Paris, near the place de la Nation, there was such an open show. Actually, it was first a concert by Mat Hilde, an acquaintance of mine from a few Paris open mics, then some other performers from the community center, then an open jam.

Unfortunately, I arrived too late for Mat Hilde’s concert, as for the third or fourth time this week I found my line 13 metro was not going to operate. (This time, unfortunately, we were told it had to do with some accident involving a person, whatever that means exactly.) In any case, I arrived late and after taking a taxi. But there was a nice mixture of musical acts, and Mat Hilde went up to sing that Jeff Buckley/Leonard Cohen song we all know so well, with a few other musicians.

The music ranged from completely amateur to very accomplished. The atmosphere was very warm, the sound excellent, the lighting wonderful, and there was free wine and snacks! Now that is the difference between a community center open mic/jam session and a regular bar music session.

Having said that, I did not get to play at all myself, since I could only play in the jam session, and it was a typical blues jam free-for-all, and I am completely and utterly lost in that kind of thing, so I did not bother.

After that, I went on over to the barman’s open mic at the Cabaret Culture Rapide for the first time in weeks. I have been attending the blues session there on Thursdays lately, and I have been having a great time. But last night I decided I would never return for the Friday night session. When there is a good sized audience – what you want – you find the absence of a microphone or amplifier is far too big a handicap to overcome. You blow out your voice, and soon the voices of the “spectators” begin to mount as most people realize they are there for drinking and carousing and not for the open mic. It is a far better event for comedians, actors, poets and prose readers. With no mic, and a mixed bag of performers, the musician becomes the odd man out, and the one everyone loves to talk during.

In any case, the blues jam evening, with a mic and sound system, is well worth the visit for musician wishing to play – and be heard.

The Swedish Girl Invasion and a Fiddler

January 19, 2011
bradspurgeon

The two highlights of Ollie’s open mic at the Ptit Bonheur la Chance bar last night were for me the three Swedish women (actually there was a fourth in the audience) and the fiddle playing of the Englishwoman, Georgia.

But even Georgia’s participation was with one of the Swedes, Sister Fay (who should not be confused with Sister Ray). It turned out that the two groups of Swedish women were not even connected, it was just happenstance that they both showed up.

In any case, Georgia played a jig to start with. Then she played with Sister Fay, who sang and played guitar, on a song from the 1930s – Dream a Little Dream of Me – that was also famous in the 1960s when sung by the Mamas and the Papas, one of whom knew the co-writer of the original song…. They also performed a song that I immediately recognized the music to, which was Shady Grove. But I knew it as Matty Grove, primarily through the Fairport Convention version (and recently the version sung by Zara Sophia at my Mecano brunch. I spoke to Georgia about it, and she said the two were similar. She has classical training on the violin, but has had much experience in folk and bluegrass bands.

The next highlight was when Sister Fay and her Swedish friend – whose name I do not remember – got up to sing a Swedish song. It was very beautiful, and another case of great music not really having to be understood literally to be appreciated.

I almost forgot, there really was another highlight to the evening, and that was Vincent Barriquand from the band Black Butterfly, who played solo with a guitar and no microphone. His strong voice carried with no problem through the small room, and without the mic we got to appreciate all its qualities. He too sang at my brunch, just a week and a half ago.

Stage Panic at the Abracadabrabar

January 18, 2011
bradspurgeon

I discovered another stage illness last night, which I would not call stage fright, but rather stage panic. I was doing an open mic I have never done before, at the Abracadabrabar on Avenue Jean Jaures, in Paris’s 19th Arrondissement. I just got up on the stage, and I had felt really good about the bar and really pleased that my turn was only the third of the evening.

It was a warm place, a big stage area, bright lights, an excellent sound system, and a man adjusting the sound to make sure all was good. There were a reasonable number of spectators too. And given that it was a new open mic for me in Paris when I thought I’d done them all, I was just plain excited to be there.

But once I got up on the stage I was immediately struck by a situation that I had not had for a long time: The stage lights were so bright that it was impossible to see anyone at all in the room. The whole situation reminded me much more of a professional concert situation than a casual open mic. The audience had been polite with the other performers, but there had been some chat building up. And when I launched into my Gary Jules cover, “Andalucia,” which I have now sung many, many times in public – even at my brunch the previous day – I was absorbing all of this set up, and noticing that slowly the voices began to die out too. Had I grabbed the audience? Or had they all quietly left the room? I had no way of knowing, I could see no one and nothing – except the bright lights (yes, and the big city through the windows way far off on the other side of the bar, perhaps).

In any case, this situation threw my brain into action and I began asking questions, wondering about things, and suddenly, after the first chorus, I realized that with all this supplementary thought and lack of concentration – although I miraculously think I was doing real justice to the song – I completely forgot the words to start the second verse. I had actually been wondering as I went through the first verse if I had made a mess of that, too, although I didn’t. So there I was with the bright lights, and the possibility that I had captured the audience and got them to be quiet, and I had gone entirely and completely blank in my mind with lyrics that I know by heart and sing all the time!!!!

I tried playing a few chords and the little lead ditty thing a little more as I tried to remember the words to start the second verse. I could not. I then began to panic at the thought that it was impossible to find the words and soon my audience would leave me behind…. So I had no choice but to finally do what I have not done in as long as I can remember. I stopped playing and said, “Sorry, I’ve forgotten the rest of the words!!!”

I made a feeble excuse about it being the bright lights and all, the change of situation for me, and I launched into my own song, “Borderline,” which I knew I would not forget the words to. But truth be told, by the time I finished that one it seemed to go by so quickly that I wondered if I HAD left out lyrics there too.

In any case, I had no further problems, and I did two more songs, then sang three songs later in the evening. All had settled, and I felt very comfortable, and in fact, thrilled to be playing under the bright lights. The funny thing is that I absolutely LOVE that kind of true stage situation. It was partly that, I think, that made me lose concentration and panic – it had been so long since I found myself on a real stage kind of situation.

Such, in any case, are the trials of the further adventures of Brad in the open mics of the world….

I highly recommend the Abracadabrabar as a venue, and I have added it to my list of Paris open mics. It takes place only once per month, the third Monday of the month. You must write to the MC in advance to get on the list.

Amongst the performers was a friend, whom I have heard mostly at the Galway and Highlander, but whose voice at the Abracadabrabar had even more qualities and depth than usual. (Years later she asked that I remove all videos from the site, so I have.)

And my songs were, once I got past that first disaster, quite nicely appreciated. One man who had no intention of playing that night approached me and asked if I could improvise guitar playing so that he could sing. So we went up and did three improvised songs, which is not one of my strong points – but with the exception of the reggae song, it worked out pretty well, and the man got the audience clapping and singing along.

A great evening all together – along with a learning experience about stage panic….

Another Wednesday Double-header, this Time with Joe on Violin

January 6, 2011
bradspurgeon

I was sitting in the Highlander last night when I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Joe Cady and his violin case. It was the first time I’d seen Joe at the Highlander. Joe and I have had a funny criss-crossing life in Paris. Joe works in computers by day and on the violin, guitar and voice by night. He’s from somewhere in the U.S. where the accent is noticeable. He plays a mean violin, but his main instrument is the guitar.

We met at Norman Spinrad’s 60th birthday party in 2000 in Paris near Notre Dame. We then ran into each other a couple of years ago at the Biz’Art jam session near the place de la Nation, where we saw each other a couple more times. We then met up again at Norman Spinrad’s 70th birthday party in Paris in September. Then Joe came and played along with me at my brunch at the Mecano, where he also joined up with David Broad, and went on to do a gig with him.

Joe was at the Highlander with Rony Boy on guitar and vocals in order to warm up for a gig they are doing at the Baroc this Saturday in their band, The Romantic Black Shirts.

As a warm up for his warm up for his gig, Joe offered to play violin along with me at the Highlander. I was to perform just before them. I agreed to this whole-heartedly, as it is always a pleasure to play with Joe, and it is always nice to have the weapon of a bigger wall of sound at an open mic aside from just the voice and guitar. But I had to change song choices to suit this, and I decided to go with “Crazy Love,” which Joe suggested, with “Not Much in the Mood,” the song I wrote at 16 about losing a lover and being in the mood for nuthin’ (and which I have now given a name after X decades), and “Just Like a Woman.”

It went over very well, I felt good, felt into the music, wore no sun glasses, made no explanations about my black eye, and the three songs were filmed by some guy with a pretty professional video camera, and he may be sending me the results eventually. It felt right on.

Joe and Rony Boy then played and they were really together, and they got the whole room moving and shaking and tapping the tables with the Johnny Cash song I recorded…..

There was the interesting 73-year-old British “chap” who played before me, and for a while I was worried that I might be overshadowed by him – but in the end, the contrast proved helpful. I’d heard of this man doing the open mics – and apparently he uses my list of open mics to find places – but this was the first time I had seen him.

After Joe’s performance I suggested to him that we go to the Cavern, which had its open vocal jam just around the corner. I had a hunch I could get Joe up there playing with the band and with his violin, and I was right. And it proved to be the longest jam I’d seen at the Cavern’s open mic, and it was very cool – “Sympathy for the Devil,” with Joe singing and playing violin…. (oh, and reading the lyrics too….)

From the International to Ollie’s open mic

January 5, 2011
bradspurgeon

Sick of the dark glasses and knowing I was in the company of many friends, I decided last night to go out without the dark glasses. First I went to the International to hear Lou Rebecca and her band, which includes Etienne Shades of The Shades. She was cool as ever, the music was strong, the sound good at this interesting venue with a downstairs stage and speakers all over the place. I mentioned Lou Rebecca on an earlier post when she played at the Rex Club a few months ago. Oddly, I found the sound to be clearer at the International than at the Rex club – unless it was just my memory that had fogged over since the previous venue….

I then took a cab to the Ptit Bonheur la Chance at 18 rue Laplace to take part in Ollie’s open mic, the first of the year. It was “happy new year’s” and all that, and, of course, “What happened to your eye Brad????” (I was briefly worried that Ollie’s dog might take me for a dalmatien and try something on me, but it’s a decent dog and nothing happened.)

The cave room used in Ollie’s open mic seemed much brighter than usual, however, so I found myself on the little wooden crate used as a stage, and explaining to the audience why I had a black eye. I used as few words as possible, ie, “I got attacked on new year’s….” Then I said something about imagining that maybe I was defending a woman who was not worth it, and the following songs would work along that same theme. So I sang, “Andalucia,” “Borderline,” “It’s Easy” (which is my love song about the impossibility of falling out of love with someone), and then I finished with “I Won’t Back Down,” by Tom Petty, which also seemed on theme in the fight mode…. It all went really well, I felt at ease, happy, and again, exorcised – at least briefly.

Ollie and his girlfriend, Matilda Kime, surprised us all with a fabulous duet – we’d never heard them sing together – and they played a Richard Thompson song. I pointed out just before they played – as you can hear on the video – that Thompson (formerly of Fairport Convention, but long a renowned solo artist) had just been named on the Queen’s Honors List.

“Blind Boy” Brad Plays His Usual Paris Haunts

January 4, 2011
bradspurgeon

I left out a detail in my previous post in which I tried to sum up the previous week’s activities. I wanted to keep the detail personal, private and just not make anything out of it. But as I decided to sit down and do my blog entry today about last night’s musical activities, I thought that it was not possible to write about the spirit of my evening – and what the people there saw – without unfortunately unveiling the news.

blind boy brad with glasses coolly covering the black eye

It’s pretty banal, actually, but a little embarrassing: I was attacked on New Year’s Eve and had my face re-arranged. Well, okay, it’s not as bad as all that. But the black eye is a doozer. I had to cancel my Sunday brunch two days ago because my face was still something of a mask of red and black spots. But I decided last night that I would not let the assailant get away with destroying my glasses, my Lacoste coat, my face AND my fun!

So it was that I went to the Tennessee Bar and the Galway Pub to play in the open mics as I usually do. But I wore dark glasses to cover the dalmatian look. Unfortunately, my forehead still has some bloody scrapes on it, and it was clear that I had been beaten (although the scrapes are much less visible even today). So this raises the question as to whether a performer really should go up and play music – which is supposed to be entertaining for the audience – when clearly in a state of disgusting ugliness through visible wounds. If I were a Sex Pistol, or maybe Nazi Dog of the Viletones, I would actually do all I could no doubt to inflict such wounds upon myself while actually on the stage performing. But as these open mics are generally considered nice family entertainment, and worse, as they are carried out by amateurs, it can look like a strange assault and self-indulgent act to perform in such circumstances.

These, at least, were the thoughts going through my mind when I got up on stage soon after arrival at the Tennessee Bar. It was odd to get up behind the mic and suddenly realize that I could not see a single person in the audience through my dark glasses. This really made me feel cut off. I tried to joke about my face and seek a thread of banter that would link the music to the face – after all, think of how odd it would be to sing of happy days with a face like a pulp! (I exaggerate.)

I sang Tom Petty’s song, “I Won’t Back Down,” which seemed appropriate. Then I sang my own song, “Borderline.” Then I ran out of ideas and thoughts on how to blend the face with the music, and for reasons beyond me I immediately segued into “Unchained Melody.” Judging by all the talk I heard in the audience building up as my three songs progressed, I did not grab the audience.

I left almost immediately afterwards, feeling as if I had been self-indulgent. But I also thought I would nevertheless test out the waters at the Galway. Stephen Prescott, the MC, immediately greeted me with a laugh and a talk about black eyes of his own in the past. I inquired as to whether he thought I could expect the permanent pink spot I am seeing to disappear, and he said in his experience he had seen nothing for days and it all came back.

I was immediately put at ease. Then when it finally came my turn to play my songs, good-natured Stephen presented me as “Blind” Brad, or “Blind” Brad Spurgeon, or something like that. This made me feel really comfortable, and even cool, with the glasses, and I realized there were precendents and even a tradition of performing like this – from Blind Boy Fuller, Blind Lemon Jefferson, Ray Charles, Stevie Wonder, and even the Frenchman Gilbert Montagne. So I instantly ceased to think about my physical appearance, and I asked the lead guitarist from a group that had played just before me if he could play with me – he said they were from England and that the band’s name was “Mana King,” but I cannot find a link for them – and we played the first two songs together. I played “Crazy Love” and “Father and Son,” and he played some great lead. Then, alone, I did “Andalucia” and “Since You Left Me.” Had a great time, felt exorcised and as if I’d had my revenge on my attacker and I was back to normal.

Snowed Out Blues

December 24, 2010
bradspurgeon

I made made my way to Belleville last night and I was having so much fun walking through the snow that when I got off at the Belleville métro and realized I was a bit early for the Cabaret Culture Rapide blues jam, I decided to keep walking around the area through the snow, check out the Féline and other local joints, and just check out the buzz.

cabaret culture rapide in the snow

When I returned – through the snow – to the Cabaret Culture Rapide, I found it EMPTY – except for one drunken musician who came in off the streets, and a couple who were somehow amused by the banter of the drunk. I took a beer anyway and sat down and waited for the Belleville Blues Band to show up, and they never did. But around 10:30 PM the bar itself filled up with clients.

So there was a great audience, and all was set for a wonderful night of warmth in the blues jam. But the bartender had warned me in advance that because of the snow, it was not sure the band would show. They didn’t. I love the band, and I love the evening – in fact, I am adding it to my list of open mics in Paris as of now – but I hate how this snowy weather has become an excuse for all of Europe to close down and quit work. I know I’m a harsh critic on this because I’m Canadian and I’m used to a lot worse – but this snowfall in and around Paris is barely like the first snowfall of a typical Canadian winter. Come on man, it never snows too much for the blues!!!! (Especially at Christmas time.)

I took a photo of the sign outside the Cabaret Culture Rapide that tells the story…. I also walked about 5 kilometers towards home and grabbed a shot of the train comin’ into the station, through the fence, which I later thought had some meaningful message to it for me….

some travel while others watch Paris train in the snow

The Amazing 15-year-old, David Woroner at The Highlander

December 23, 2010
bradspurgeon

There were a number of acts worth talking about at the Highlander open mic last night, but I’m going to devote this post to David Woroner, 15, from Toronto. This kid just stole the show, stole the night, ran away with everyone’s hearts.

I had noticed in a first glance behind me at one point this very bizarre looking adult who just did not fit in The Highlander – until I realized that this was not a bizarre-looking adult at all. It was a 15-year-old kid from Toronto, on holidays in Paris with his dad and a family friend. The Kid, as he should be known, arrived a little later than most of the performers, and Thomas Brun decided to fit him in on the list, and went and asked a few people if it was okay for The Kid to go before them. I don’t know how many performers were asked, but when it came to me, I said, “Sure, of course, no problem!!”

But I turned and took another look at The Kid, and then I turned and told a friend at my table that I was sure I was going to be crucified. “I think I probably just screwed myself,” I said to her, “this kid is probably going to be some fabulous talent and he’s going to knock everyone out. Then I will go up and play and I’ll be like nothing next to his show.”

On the level of novelty value alone, I was pretty sure I’d be screwed. But whenever I get in a situation like that – or as often as I can – when someone really good or entertaining for whatever reason goes up before me, I always try to remember that all I – or any other musician – has to do as a response is to sing a song that is “true,” “real,” a reflection of your heart and others’.

In any case, Thomas later came up and said, “Change of plan. You’re going up now, the kid will go up after you.”

Phew!!!! I sighed relief. I threw all my heart and soul and body into my three songs: “Crazy Love,” “Borderline” and “Father and Son,” and I got some really enthusiastic applause and screaming of joy even during the songs, particularly the second two.

But I would bask in this feeling of accomplishment and love for no more than about 20 seconds when the audience suddenly took in the image of The Kid behind the mic and with the big guitar. He was so small by comparison to all the other artists that appeared – all adults – and so clearly a kid, that it caught everyone’s attention immediately. Then, man, when David “The Kid” Woroner belted into his chords and singing of his first song, he had won over the audience’s respect and love within the first couple of bars. “What the hell is this!?!?” In short, The Kid could sing. And better than most of the performers that went up last night. Not only that, he had some kind of clear, innate, rock ‘n roll attitude and an impeccable sense of rhythm, no struggle with the guitar and vocals, or if there was, he dealt with it like a pro.

I sighed a sigh of relief that I had not, indeed, been chosen to follow this act! I turned to my friend again and said to her, “You see!”

“Yes, you would have had a hard time,” she said. (For which I wanted to probe her to find out exactly what she meant by agreeing with me like that!!)

I was also disappointed, however, that my batteries ran out on my Zoom Q3 and all I had to record The Kid was my iPhone 4, so the sound would not be as good. Below are two videos, (the “creep” one ends with closer shots of him at the mic as I moved up the room).

After, I spoke to David and asked him if he played in open mics in Toronto. “No.”

He have a myspace? “No.”

His dad corrected one thing, “He has played at Grossman’s Tavern.”

“That dive?!?!” I said, in surprise for a kid doing such a place….

And David added, “I have a group and we have played around here and there.”

In fact, most of how he has learned his chops, it seems, is through this family friend, also named David, who comes around and plays with him in the living room all the time. I have put in a video below of that David playing “Psycho Killer,” in order to show where The Kid’s training comes from.

The Kid’s got a future, maybe….

Oh, and P.S., as soon as The Kid finished his three or four first songs, the Highlander just cleared out! Everyone went out to smoke a cigarette or something else, and the next performer had hardly anyone there to listen. It filled up again soon, and at the end of the night, The Kid went up to sing several more songs.