Sweden is quickly becoming one of my favorite places. I went over to Stockholm last month for an appearance at their annual spoken word festival. This was something completely new for me.
Of course, I've been involved in poetry and the application of spoken word with music since the sixties. It usually took the form of playing in a band and finding the appropriate musical counterpoint to the text. It's a musical and literary exercise that I really enjoy and something that I will continue to cultivate in the future.
But this was sans band. It also differed in that I was doing a complete performance that mixed singing solo with just the acoustic guitar and a narrative.
There's no question that I have a massive ego and the idea that someone might find me, talking about me entertaining could be asking a lot of the ticket buying public. But they asked and I accepted. The venue was a beautiful 400-year-old theater that has been lovingly maintained and is used for all manner of musical and theatrical events. It was a fine, fine room.
We left LA on the red eye and arrived in Stockholm at eight in the morning. Too early to check into the hotel so we walked around the shopping district and drank coffee and ate Swedish pastries. Not too difficult, but at that point the jet lag and fatigue were catching up with your faithful reporter and I had to get to bed. Had another day to recover and then do the gig on Saturday night.
A real gift on this gig was working with my dear friend and mentor John Sinclair. John was in Amsterdam preparing for another of his regular Euro-tours and the promoters were thrilled to fly him over to Stockholm and have him on the bill. It worked out great. I accompanied him on acoustic guitar for a selection of his "investagative poems" on the blues and blues artists. John is truly the maestro. He captivated the Swedes with his tales of trouble and joy from the Mississippi Delta and beyond.
I really enjoy providing the music for John, because it is a challenge to lay down a feel and not give in to the temptation to go off on my own tangent. I like the self-discipline this kind of work demands. You must let the text lead and serve the text only. And in that way, I end up being free to contribute an aural landscape to the action that John has built into the story. Good stuff.
John and I performed around 6:00 PM and the schedule had me coming back at 10:30 for my set. As is the case often at festivals, acts tend to run over schedule and as each act adds 5 or 10 minutes to their set the whole thing starts to get bent further and further out shape. I think I finally went on about midnight.
My approach was to tell a chronological narrative of how I ended up there on that night in Stockholm. Covering the MC5 early years, the highs and lows of that period of my life on through the prison/crime years and up through to today and the work I do now. I tried to illustrate each phase with a song that was appropriate to the period.
To tell you the truth, it was kinda fun.
At this point in my life I really enjoy taking a chance on something that I never did before. It's the practice of keeping an open mind and the dividends are vital.
The whole thing seemed to be going down well and the people responded with great enthusiasm after each of the 5 or 6 songs I sang but there was a perplexing lack of laughter. Now I'm not trying to kid myself or anyone else; I'm not a comedian. I don't do stand up; it's not really my thing. I leave that to the professionals but, I do have a good sense of humor and find a great many reasons to laugh and enjoy the irony and ridiculousness of trying to get by in this world. And on occasion, I can say something that people find funny. So, at a couple of points in the performance I said things that were funny (in my humble opinion) and&dead silence. You could hhave heard a church mouse pissing on cotton. I felt like the world's worst borsch-belt comedian having his worst night. Somehow humor, at least my brand of humor just might have too many idiomatic references or maybe I'm too formal in my delivery or maybe the language barrier filters out the nuance of humor. In any event, they didn't find me a laugh-riot, but they did seem to enjoy the show and I finished up with a Q&A and some good questions and a fine ovation. I put it down in the win column.
I asked Sinclair afterwards about the lack of response with the jokes and he said he though I was hysterical. Strange, those Swedes.
Maybe next time I should bring some cream pies and a seltzer bottle if I want laughs.
In the end we left Sweden with good memories and the conviction that the solo spoken word/acoustic guitar format has real potential. Maybe I'll do an acoustic album next. Hmm.
The band and I return to The Baked Potato starting Wednesday, January 8, 2003. We will play every Wednesday night indefinitely. We're planning to keep it lively with special musical guests and even some poets, writers and actors doing all manner of entertaining stuff. Same format: 9:30 and 11:00 shows.
Check in to see who's on week by week.
Happy holidays.
Best, w
Of course, I've been involved in poetry and the application of spoken word with music since the sixties. It usually took the form of playing in a band and finding the appropriate musical counterpoint to the text. It's a musical and literary exercise that I really enjoy and something that I will continue to cultivate in the future.
But this was sans band. It also differed in that I was doing a complete performance that mixed singing solo with just the acoustic guitar and a narrative.
There's no question that I have a massive ego and the idea that someone might find me, talking about me entertaining could be asking a lot of the ticket buying public. But they asked and I accepted. The venue was a beautiful 400-year-old theater that has been lovingly maintained and is used for all manner of musical and theatrical events. It was a fine, fine room.
We left LA on the red eye and arrived in Stockholm at eight in the morning. Too early to check into the hotel so we walked around the shopping district and drank coffee and ate Swedish pastries. Not too difficult, but at that point the jet lag and fatigue were catching up with your faithful reporter and I had to get to bed. Had another day to recover and then do the gig on Saturday night.
A real gift on this gig was working with my dear friend and mentor John Sinclair. John was in Amsterdam preparing for another of his regular Euro-tours and the promoters were thrilled to fly him over to Stockholm and have him on the bill. It worked out great. I accompanied him on acoustic guitar for a selection of his "investagative poems" on the blues and blues artists. John is truly the maestro. He captivated the Swedes with his tales of trouble and joy from the Mississippi Delta and beyond.
I really enjoy providing the music for John, because it is a challenge to lay down a feel and not give in to the temptation to go off on my own tangent. I like the self-discipline this kind of work demands. You must let the text lead and serve the text only. And in that way, I end up being free to contribute an aural landscape to the action that John has built into the story. Good stuff.
John and I performed around 6:00 PM and the schedule had me coming back at 10:30 for my set. As is the case often at festivals, acts tend to run over schedule and as each act adds 5 or 10 minutes to their set the whole thing starts to get bent further and further out shape. I think I finally went on about midnight.
My approach was to tell a chronological narrative of how I ended up there on that night in Stockholm. Covering the MC5 early years, the highs and lows of that period of my life on through the prison/crime years and up through to today and the work I do now. I tried to illustrate each phase with a song that was appropriate to the period.
To tell you the truth, it was kinda fun.
At this point in my life I really enjoy taking a chance on something that I never did before. It's the practice of keeping an open mind and the dividends are vital.
The whole thing seemed to be going down well and the people responded with great enthusiasm after each of the 5 or 6 songs I sang but there was a perplexing lack of laughter. Now I'm not trying to kid myself or anyone else; I'm not a comedian. I don't do stand up; it's not really my thing. I leave that to the professionals but, I do have a good sense of humor and find a great many reasons to laugh and enjoy the irony and ridiculousness of trying to get by in this world. And on occasion, I can say something that people find funny. So, at a couple of points in the performance I said things that were funny (in my humble opinion) and&dead silence. You could hhave heard a church mouse pissing on cotton. I felt like the world's worst borsch-belt comedian having his worst night. Somehow humor, at least my brand of humor just might have too many idiomatic references or maybe I'm too formal in my delivery or maybe the language barrier filters out the nuance of humor. In any event, they didn't find me a laugh-riot, but they did seem to enjoy the show and I finished up with a Q&A and some good questions and a fine ovation. I put it down in the win column.
I asked Sinclair afterwards about the lack of response with the jokes and he said he though I was hysterical. Strange, those Swedes.
Maybe next time I should bring some cream pies and a seltzer bottle if I want laughs.
In the end we left Sweden with good memories and the conviction that the solo spoken word/acoustic guitar format has real potential. Maybe I'll do an acoustic album next. Hmm.
The band and I return to The Baked Potato starting Wednesday, January 8, 2003. We will play every Wednesday night indefinitely. We're planning to keep it lively with special musical guests and even some poets, writers and actors doing all manner of entertaining stuff. Same format: 9:30 and 11:00 shows.
Check in to see who's on week by week.
Happy holidays.
Best, w
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