Woodyfest Find #3

Anthony da Costa keeps winning awards. Last year he won both the Kerrville Folk Festival's New Folk competition and Falcon Ridge's Emerging Artist award. Little wonder. Riding home from Woodyfest, listening to his CD, my husband says, "That's amazing that he can write like that and he's what, 17?" I had to remind him that Jackson Browne wrote "These Days" when he was the same age. Some people just have "the gift". Add Anthony to the list.

Showcasing down at the Brickstreet, Anthony played an impressive set. Songs of love, loss, music and political relevance mixed with easy stage banter that eludes most younger artists. His sense of humor showed through and personally, I really like that. But what really blew the crowd away was his cover of "Draft Dodger Rag" at the Phil Ochs Tribute set on the main stage. He learned the song just that afternoon and nailed it that night, solid. The delivery was perfect, reality injected with wry humor. Phil's sister, Sonny Ochs, just beamed. He did Phil proud. Keep an eye on Anthony da Costa, we're going to be hearing a lot from this prolific, gifted young musician.

Woodyfest Find #2

Jimmy Davis has been around a lot longer than that baby face of his leads you to believe. His album debut was back in 1987 and he hasn't looked back. Jimmy camps along his tour; saves money, meets people, sings and writes inspired by surroundings, memories, histories, imagination and new friends along the way. Sounds like a perfect fit for Woodyfest, doesn't he?

Jimmy was a Woodyfest virgin when he hit The Brickstreet stage on Thursday. Tough slot, Thursday afternoon. The weekend not quite started, hardcore festival goers filling the venue. With just his trusty Martin and the mandatory abbreviated set list, he stunned the crowd and left them wanting more. A natural storyteller, he regaled us with stories of his family and the inspiration sparked from talking to Jim Dandy as intros between songs. That storytelling flare shines through his songs as well. Vingnettes draw you in until you want to snuggle under his grandmother's quilt, or hide out in the Devil's Den like one of his characters. Besides crafting some great songs, the man can play. All too often solo acoustic players have a timid or sloppy attack; Jimmy's knows better. He's a seasoned and strong musician who knows when to charm a note or nail a chord. It was a pleasure to be introduced to his music. I know I'm in line for Jimmy Daddy's Acoustic Songs II. Check out Jimmy's tour schedule and if he's in your town, don't miss him!

Blogging off to festival land

It's that time of year, July. Hottest month of the year. Hey, I have an idea! Let's go to Oklahoma where it's even hotter.... Yeah, I thought these people were crazy, holding a five day music festival in a hot state, in a hot month; you can just see the glue melting on those acoustics' bridges. But then I went. Woodyfest is different. It's free except for camping or evening outdoor venue parking and the artists all donate their time, only travel and lodging are paid. It's a labor of love in the name of Woody Guthrie. Held in Woody's home town of Okemah, the whole thing is a trip. Though small by folk fest standards, it's perfect for what it is and the time and space available. Three main venues and a fourth for ongoing open mic, main campground pickin' all night long, quieter lakeside camping, and friendly people everywhere. Really friendly. Amazingly friendly. Did I say they were friendly? Not quiet used to that living in the city. So if you wander on down to Woodyfest next week to see Judy Collins, Country Joe McDonald, John Gorka and a host of regular, rotating and new artists, you will be counted as friends. Not to mention have one hell of a good time. Stop by the CD sales booth and say hey, that's where I'll be. Until post-fest, summer up!

'til we meet on the other side -G'bye, Bob Childers

Until I went to the Woody Guthrie Free Folk Festival, I knew nothing of Bob Childers or his music. I was more than saddened to hear yesterday of his passing; I felt like I'd lost a friend.

Like so many others who fell under his spell, once you dig Bob it's a forever thing. His music is honest, Red Dirt Poetry. Tinged with sadness, exuding hope, singing about life the way people live it. Call it roots, red dirt country, folk, americana, rainbow rock or what have you, Bob's songs would always hit you in the deep down spot where your soul was thirsty. Listening to his music makes you feel a little more alive, even in the wake of sadness like today.

But the music was only part of the magic of Bob, or mostly a reflection of it. He was just a damn good guy. Kind, gentle, honest, self-effacing, quick with a smile and ready to laugh, often at himself. His genuine thankfulness for those who showed appreciation for his art was touching. Any time with Bob was memorable. Woodyfest will not be the same without seeing the bleary-eyed, but reliable, Bob squinting against the Oklahoma sun at Mary Jo's Pancake Breakfast (see above photo).

Travel safely, Brother Bob. Say hi Woody for me. See you on the other side.