Note: I wrote this piece after hearing one of my harmonica heroes play live in San Francisco back in 2009. It was an extraordinary experience being in a small club and seeing someone give everything they had for the music. That show, in a tiny, unsung club in SF, remains for me a symbol of what making music is all about. Jason gave the performance of his life for a small audience, something he did over and over probably several hundred nights a year in those days. Performing is all about that.
I have played big venues along the way — the San Francisco Jazz Festival and the Getty Center in Los Angeles jump to mind — but as a small band playing niche music we have mostly played smaller venues. It’s what I prefer. Music should be up close (and preferably acoustic).
I learned a lot that night watching Jason soar.
Listen to the audio:
Last night, Jason Ricci, the harmonica player who most inspires me, came to town and I had the chance to check him out live. It was everything I had hoped for — and much more. As usual – and this is one of the unbending truths of live performance – you cannot capture it on tape. You have to be there. Go out. Be present. Put your body on the line.
We live in a voyeuristic culture in which most of our art is consumed pre-recorded. Movies, TV, radio, internet, podcasts – everything is recorded, committed to tape or to disk or compressed for transmission before it reaches us. No matter how faithful the copy – and digital recording can be excruciatingly faithful to the original – there is always something left behind that does not make it onto whatever medium we are recording to. For those of us craving the juice, touching that uncapturable elixir is the difference between living and being dead.
Last night was a perfect example. What had sounded good to me on CD and YouTube expanded to another dimension seated in the basement club with the amps blasting and Jason sweating as if he were being barbecued under the stage lights hanging just five feet in front of him. He called for more air conditioning but no air conditioning would save him under those conditions. He seems to inhabit his own personal inferno.
Later, out in front of the club, smoking a cigarette, slouched on the sidewalk selling CDs between sets and looking broken, you could have easily mistaken him for another of the panhandlers on that same block. The difference was that a small crowd of people hovered around him, while people went out of their way to avoid the beggars. Still, the parallel was unnerving.
I suspect that Jason goes way down, further down than anyone in his right mind would want to go, to get his music and bring it back. Others before him have made pacts with the devil in exchange for knowledge, eternal life or musical virtuosity. Seeing him crumpled on the sidewalk, I knew that whatever pact he has made to play was taking a heavy toll.
In his song, “Broken Toy,” he sings:
I'm an outsider
I'm a misfit
Not a girl nor a boy
Well I feel like a broken toy
On stage, the music he makes rattles the gates of Heaven and gives us reason to be thankful to be in the room with him; but on the street outside the weight of his burden seemed far too much for those slender shoulders to bear.
Discover Jason Ricci:
- Jason Ricci — Walk on the Wild Side: https://youtu.be/jFI-RBqXzhU?si=JAyYk4KCCfCfe4C1
- Jason Ricci – Broken Toy: https://youtu.be/38YsVNLywrI?si=puoeJVQiAh-WR0cS
Jason Ricci Albums:
- Jason Ricci – Done with the Devil (album): https://youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_kk0zRmhiNxRpvcUBQBY6dAqL-2JzGpPVw&si=8III2r1ofjzdGDk8
- Jason Ricci – Rocket #9: https://youtu.be/b-PXqIvOjFQ?si=XQnV91iqnil3vk1D
Jason Ricci – Writings
- Jason Ricci — Stay in College (great music business advice): https://kevincarrelfooter.com/jason-ricci-stay-in-college/
Leave a Reply