music reviews

Review of live perfomance - Rick Danko at The Turning Point, Piermont, N.Y. - January 29, 1999 - by Thomas D. Havard

Last night my wife and I drove over the Tappan Zee Bridge to catch bassist for The Band, Rick Danko, in a solo performance. The Turning Point is in the hidden granola town of Piermont, N.Y., on the shore of the Hudson River. Performers generally do 2 shows a night, and we attended the 2nd show at 10:30. The club is very small, seating about 100 people who are crammed together at long tables. Corina and I were asked to sit at the end of one of these tables, directly in front of the stage. Patrons are encouraged to purchase food and beverage from wait staff instead of crawling over chairs, tables, people and microphone stands to get to the bar. We chose beverages. I ordered a bottle of Samuel Smith's Oatmeal Stout while Corina chose a diet pepsi. Guess who the driver was? Wrong. I was the driver. My stout was excellent, as are all the beers I've sampled in the Samuel Smith line. Another excellent oatmeal stout is produced by the New England Brewery, in Norwalk, CT, but I'm getting a bit off the track now. We were soon joined by three members of the in limbo band, Swahoogie, including Elyse Kolodin, Gary Ptak, and Tom Zeke Krouskoff. They ordered Coronas, and I think Gary got a pint of Pete's Wicked Ale. Zeke and I soon got to reminiscing about an outing 6 or so years ago when we came to the same club with Chris Dott and Chris Genovese to watch the same performer. The warm-up act that time resembled Rob Reiner from All in the Family in appearance, and was pretty horrendous. So horrendous, in fact, that the four of us had to spend the entire performance staring down at the table to avoid any eye contact with each other; eye contact that would have resulted in explosions of laughter in an otherwise deadly silent crowd. But that was a long time ago.

Or was it? As last night's warm up performer mounted the stage we couldn't believe our eyes. Sure enough, it was meathead himself. Before long, we realized he was going to perform the same 6 songs in the same order that he did 6 years ago. I do know his name, but I feel bad enough already without advertising that. He seems like a nice enough guy. It's hard to describe exactly what is wrong with him. Maybe it isn't very hard. His guitar playing is capable, but that could be said for just about anybody who only plays the same 6 songs over and over. His singing delivery is completely soulless. One of his own songs was about the blues, and it was sung in such disturbing wonder bread fashion it made us wonder if he's ever even heard one blues song in his life. His songwriting is appalling. Lyrics are just cliches strung together. Tunes are less inventive than anything Thomas Edison ever hummed in his sleep. Corina and I played guess the rhyming word and got it right most of the time. Meathead (alright - his name is Ed Cashen) included a few unimaginative covers in his set, such as The Beatles', Rocky Raccoon, and The Grateful Dead's Friend of the Devil. At least with the covers there wasn't the uncomfortable tension in the room that came with his originals. Fortunately, the crowd chose to just talk over his music this night, instead of serving up the shocked silence of 6 years ago. We survived with minimal effort and looked forward to Rick.

Rick Danko took the stage looking large, accompanied by a piano player Rick introduced as his psychiatrist. He opened with Book Faded Brown off the latest Band album, and as his wonderful voice carried through the tiny room, smiles of pleasure arrived to all present. Stage Fright was next, and Rick managed to cover the rhythm, chords, and bouncy base lines all on the same guitar. Soon Ed Cashen completed the trio, playing subdued back up guitar and adding very effective backing vocals. Ed has found his calling. Rick's guitar playing differed from his past performances I'd seen in that he attempted, successfully, to add some of his signature bass lines to the accompaniment. He also took several acoustic guitar solos, some of which seemed to mimic leads played by his former Bandmate, Robbie Robertson. Though not technically perfect, the solos were inspired, fun and delivered from the heart. The psychiatrist piano player sang background vocals and worked the piano perfectly into the mix, adding bluesy solos and fills when necessary. A set highlight was a song called Let the four Winds Blow, on which the psychiatrist sang lead while Rick showed he is still one of the best harmony vocalists ever. Other highlights were Band classics It Makes no Difference and Twilight.

The set had a looser feeling than past performances of Rick's I'd seen, not to say that's a bad thing. Songs like the requested High Cotton were obviously unrehearsed, but spontaneity and effort made up for any rough edges. After the show, Rick changed his shirt and returned to the room to meet with fans and sign some CDs. As we were leaving, one fan shook Rick's hand and told him, Take care of yourself. We want you to be doing this for the next 25 years. A little tactless, maybe, but I agree with the sentiment.