[Oregon City, OR] I had a real good time! I
finally got fed properly. My big G-M deadline is 3 months away now and I’ve
totally fizzled – because online dating is soul-sucking and because I love the
non-committals, the dreamers, the non-conformists – on the plus side, without multiple
dates a week, I finally, importantly, have time to carry on with seeing each
and every music venue in the Portland music venue A to Z. This venue’s been on
my list for months and I was grumpy about it – so far away … but I forgot how
pretty Oregon City is … and that’s in the sunny summer. Today was a dreary
Portland spring day, a day, it turned out, that only highlighted Oregon City’s
beauty: pine trees fading into the fog along the hills, smoke-puffing factories
alongside a river—my heart softened and I felt feelings.
Carrying on with the
nothing as expected, the venue was not a lively country bar – it was a serious
rural-town brewery for locals – the staff were watching me suspiciously from
the windows as I took photos of the railroad tracks and river, in my gold-bling
necklace. I was real real doubtful but Feckin won – quiet no-try staff, lots of
beer options (only 1 of 20 was IPA and they didn’t appreciate my probing), and their
own smoked-meat – now I have a proper place to take Texas visitors. The décor was
appalling – no-try as I said. And then, although I expected some band called Tin
Silver Line, it turned out to be an open mic. I was feeling flexible – mellowed
by the mist & countryside. Ed was up first – he was probably in his 50s,
wearing a long-sleeved flame-decorated biker shirt. He did Americana,
singer/songwriter, soulful country. You couldn’t help but get on his side
because he was a little nervous and kept second-guessing the song he wanted to
play. He had a support group of a blonde-big-waves lady, a mystical lady with
long black hair, and a 50-something cowboy hipster nodding for him, telling him
to carry on, video-ing his last songs. He was also gracious—saying he’s no
songwriter but he sure loves… Johnny Horton, John Prine, Chris Stapleton … and he
kept referencing his dad as an inspiration for various songs. My judginess of
cover artists was softened by his strong voice, presence, no ego—and I decided he
was a song curator, moreover of what I like, gritty-voiced story-telling stuff.
I didn’t know who Johnny Horton was & don’t want to based on the youtube
options. He mentioned Chris Stapleton the most – my cousin who’s an expert in outlaw/underground
country took me & Flame to see Chris Stapleton a couple years ago &
Everybody loved the show. John Prine references, though, took me back to the
couple in Austin who let me play guitar with them – huge Americana fans (Greg
Brown too) – they met through a long-distance romance that involved mailing
meth to each other – and his ex-woman had an ex-boyfriend who lived down by the
train tracks that we would visit—a methhead and an artiste I guess—the –ex (super
old to me at the time, probably my age now) didn’t talk much (despite a history
as a super political feminist) and ended up running the Guatemalan border to
adopt a child—I have periodic visions that her destiny is mine. He did Otis
Redding ‘s (with Taj Mahal) “That’s How Strong My Love Is,” Bob Dylan’s “Wagonwheel”
(the incessant playlist of that song in Gunnison left me thinking it was an Old
Crow song), and some Van Morrison song. Then he did a really beautiful David
Allan Coe song – “The Ride” I just figured out – what a mindfuck David Allan
Coe is, a sexist racist bundle of horror with these little shines of beauty.
Todd
played a set between Ed’s – his set went on too long. He maybe had more fingering
and picking talent than Ed but he had this same-tone way of singing (Woody
Guthrie?) that depleted his covers. Like he managed to ruin a song I really
love: “Man of Constant Sorrow.” He smiled real hard when he managed to
reference Oregon City in a song about a long-lost woman. Lots of songs about ramblin
men, rail-jumpers—music of my youth for sure.
But I started feeling targeted
and was relieved when the moderator rescinded the play-as-long-as-you-like and
gave him the one-song warning so Ed could get back up. Go Ed.
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