At this point in time, most of us are experiencing a bit of the Lockdown Blues, and even though it seems as if we are coming out of it, we are entering back into a world that has changed drastically. It is sad to say that the music scene in the Bay Area may be in a state of a significant overhaul with massive shutdowns and closures of all music venues, bars, and clubs. Most of us have not gone to a live show since mid-March, and bands and musicians are struggling to find a place (and an income) in the new paradigm.
 
The future of our local music scenes is uncertain. Will we ever be able to gather in large groups again? Are small clubs and bars a thing of the past? Who knows? But the truth is, we still need live music in our brains, and we still need to rock and roll, so how do we do that when we can’t gather? Well, kids, welcome to the New Age of the music industry, Live Stream shows via the Internet.
 
I like to say, “When the going gets wacky, the wacky people get creative and innovative.” It seems that the new version of a “live music venue” is in our own backyards, literally. Backyard (or garage, front porch or front yard) live streams are the new clubs, the lawn or patio is the latest idea of a stage and countless viewers sitting at home with their computers are the modern audiences. The simplicity of cell phone technology has made it massively easy to bring people together to experience music, now that’s what I call making the best of a bad situation.

Here we are, Lockdown day number “whatever”, and by this point, most of us are cranky, broke, scared, and frustrated. Every one of us has seemingly let go of “the old normal” and we are fast embracing “the new normal”. Sadly that means that we are no longer going out to experience live music in our local clubs and bars. But, alas, there is still music being made and released, probably even more so now than before. And so with that segue, I will tell you a story about this exact subject of making music.
 
Many moons ago, deep in the heart of West Marin, California, a young man named Frankie Bourne discovered his calling; music. It was in the small town of Nicasio that this man first heard music coming out of the local roadhouse that would greatly influence his life. “I grew up regularly exposed to rootsy, blues-rock bar bands playing at Rancho Nicasio. I loved the sass of blues music, the soul in the stories, the crunchy telecaster guitars, and the attitude-driven grooves,” states Bourne. “A turning point for me was when I was 15. I saw Jackie Greene play a dinner show at Rancho. It was a trio, just Jackie and a cocktail kit rhythm section. I remember having a moment of reverence that night. I was so inspired. This light turned on. It was a moment of monumental clarity. I said to myself: “that is what I want to do”.
 
Bourne started his musical life on drums and taught himself guitar. As a teen, he began writing songs and has since become an amazing and prolific songwriter. “Lyrics have fortunately always flowed very naturally for me,” states Bourne. “I guess you could say I cull from personal experiences about the basic human condition, about personal experiences that we all share. It's about the shit that makes us human, and characteristically imperfect; relationships, friendships, family, loss, anger, love, curiosity, confusion, envy, jealousy, identity.”

"If you want to know if he loves you so, it's in his kiss"...or so the song goes. But the reality is, that's a lie. We all know kissing, especially a really good kiss, is all about a chemical connection via hormones found in spit.

​The mouth is a sensual place if you ask me. Warm, inviting and chock filled with chemicals in the saliva that will set the heart pattering during a kiss. The mouth and lips contain over 40% of the nerves connected to our face, so the lips respond intensely to every kind of stimuli, which, in turn, triggers a massive response in the brain. During a passionate kiss, our blood vessels dilate; more oxygen is routed to the brain; our breathing quickens and becomes erratic; our cheeks flush; our pulse quickens; our pupils dilate. We are inundated with dopamine, serotonin, norepinephrine, oxytocin, and our adrenaline levels spike, leaving our bodies awash in a chemical bath that is equivalent to an amazing drug high that often leaves us addicted and wanting more.

So, a good kiss really means nothing in the grand scheme of commitment. It doesn't mean he loves you, it doesn't mean he'll stick around, but it does mean there is some seriously good sexual juju that may or may not lead to love. 

​#3:  As we sat on the bench in the dark, he told me he was emotionally bankrupt and couldn't give me anything, I said that was OK. But when my lips touched the warm, salty skin on his neck I was hit with a desire I hadn't felt in awhile. I knew at that moment that I was lying to him and that eventually I'd want more....

​#5: It had been weeks since I saw him last, as his other girlfriends and a hefty drug addiction kept him busy. We drove together to the coast to talk about his desire to finally try to be with me; maybe, just maybe, he was ready to commit.  But as we sat in the car staring at the sea, I realized that I didn't want to be with him, I wasn't in love with him anymore, and I knew I could never truly trust him. So I kissed him instead. I knew then that I only wanted his body because that was the only thing he could give me that wasn't a lie...

#7: He was only offering me a shoulder to cry on, as two days earlier another man broke my heart. He was kind and sweet and listened to me as I emptied my heart. I felt such comfort in his attentions. So when I found myself with him on a dark basketball court feeling my heart beat fast as my tummy did flip flops, I knew it was ok to forget the heartbreaking bastard who hurt me...

#9: I don't do public make outs on public sidewalks, that is not my style. Though when he asked if he could kiss me goodnight as I unlocked my bike I was hesitant for only a moment. I really wanted his kiss and I wanted him, so I wrapped my arms around his neck and decided not to care for once what other people might see or think about my actions in this small town of mine.
 

​#10: Rewind: I was 14, he was 13 and I have no real recollection of how we paired up, how things began or how I ended up laying under him on the damp grass of the golf course, but I was somehow making out with a boy for the first time. It was kind of cool but kind of weird as we slid our tongues around each other’s mouths. I got the hang of it quickly and decided I really liked kissing. I would like to say he influenced me profoundly, but he didn't. He was just the first boy I kissed in a long line of boys I would end up swapping spit with...

#14: His sexual bravado was easily seen in his swagger and smile as he came over to me in the crowded bar and whispered in my ear, "If I ever got you alone, I'd have to kiss you." I looked him in the eye, my whole body in a vice of desire and replied, "Well, when it's time for you to leave, I'll follow you out the door." We walked to the bleachers at the ball field where he wrapped me in his arms. I leaned in to kiss me and then BAM! He ignited a fire within me that I sorely needed to feel again.

#17: Months ago, while sharing a joint outside the bar, he started to ask me questions about my Making Out With Boys photo series, as he was curious about it: How many men was I dating? How many boyfriends did I have? And, more importantly, he asked if I had ever kissed anyone at this particular bar. "No, not yet," I stated. So when I ran into him recently at this particular bar, after our greetings and hugs near the bathroom, he leaned towards me and planted a quick kiss on my lips. I was simultaneously shocked that he made such a ballsy move but not surprised either, as I sensed he wanted to kiss me for a while now. It was a chaste kiss and as I didn't have time to respond, all I could do was laugh and say, "Now I've been kissed at this bar!" But I'll never say never to another kiss, maybe more, within the walls of this particular bar...

#18: When we first started our short but intense love affair, we were all over each other, all the time. With our electrified physical dynamic, there wasn't any place that was off limits to the ravenous joy of turning each other on. As I loaded my laundry into the dryer, he grabbed me from behind, turned me around and kissed me hard and passionately, wet towels falling to the floor as I engaged him in kind with my desire. At that point in our romance, I was still in the mindset that we loved each other, as that is what we agreed on. If I knew that "I Love You" meant something different to him than it did to me, if I foresaw the reality that he would leave me soon, I would never have desecrated my laundry room with my lust.

#19: "Look up!" he says as the convertible roars along the winding roads of West Marin. We enter into the grove of eucalyptus trees on the way to the coast and I catch myself in a moment of freedom within my heart as I lift my head and observe the dappled light. He holds my hand and looks at me with soft eyes and I fight with all my might not to fall into them, but I do anyway, regardless of the fortress of barbed wire around my heart. He's creeping into my soul, and I am simultaneously scared and elated by the possibilities...

I have heard much hubbub over the last year over the Americana folk-rock band The Wood Brothers. Friends and colleagues have expounded on their playing and their performances, telling me over and over, “You really gotta check these guys out, they are something else!” Ok, fine, twist my arm. When the three men who make up The Wood Brothers walked onto the stage of Oakland’s Fox Theater recently, I did not know what to expect as I wasn’t familiar with much of their music. It was kind of like a blind date in the sense that even though I was told I would like them, I didn’t know if it would be a love connection. But I was ready to experience what they had to offer. Most of the time, I trust the suggestions of music lovers like myself to point me in the right direction of bands I need to hear, and I am happy to report I was not misled.
​
From the first song to the last, I could tell they were my kind of band; rootsy, rocking, dynamic, and intelligent. The Wood Brothers are solid players, and I did my best to understand what was going on before my eyes and ears. At first, I couldn’t quite tell why I liked them right away, but then it began to hit me. It was as if they were all playing separately to what their spirits told them to play, but they are also able to meld that separateness into this tightly wound package of cohesion with each man’s playing style coming into sync with the others. I was aware of all three playing individually while hearing what they did together. That, to me, is brilliant, like three colorful fireworks going off in the sky simultaneously while creating this majestic display of BOOM!​

The band is pure talent. Oliver Wood is the eldest, a guitarist, and a songwriter by nature and birth. His stories come across beautifully when translated into song. Younger brother Chris Wood is a musical genius with his focus on bass, either with is his standup, electric and vintage instruments, as well as harmonica. His time with Medeski, Martin Wood solidified his technical prowess and his jazz influences. Multi-instrumentalist and percussionist Jano Rix is not a brother in the familial sense, but definitely one in the spiritual sense. His expertise at playing drums while laying down funky keyboard licks AND singing all at the same time was wicked to witness, and I began to think he had extra arms.
​
Opening the night, the band laid hard into songs from their newest release Kingdom Of My Mind, showing that they have not lost their touch lyrically or musically. “Alabaster” has crunchy feedback, and a bluesy vibe and “Glad” brings a funky groove with a killer baseline. Oliver’s voice has a hint of twang when he sings, and in conjunction with his brother Chris’s higher voice, the harmonies rip on songs like “When I Was Young” and “Little Bit Broken”. “Snake Eyes” totally rocked with a freight-train force. Mid-point of the show, opening act Birds Of Chicago gathered around the mic with the band on “Sing All About It” and sang their hearts out. With the end of the evening, The Wood Brothers busted out the gorgeously sung “Luckiest Man”, “Lil Blue” and an excellent cover of The Band’s “Ophelia” before their encore of “Happiness Jones/Express Yourself”.​

An interesting thing happened during the show, one that I wish would happen more often. As the band was set to play a quiet song, Oliver Wood kindly shushed the very chatty audience, stating that now was the time to hush up your neighbors and listen. I almost cheered but felt that would not help the moment. So the audience stopped talking, and when it was quiet, the three men sang in harmony, all acoustic and lovely, encouraging the fans to not only listen but to sing.

​Once again, I am blown away by a band I didn’t know much about. Once again, I leave the venue going, “Holy cow, that was FUN!” and once again, I open myself to the magic at hand when I hear live music. I would have to say that for a “blind date” with a band, this was a very successful love connection.

Texas country crooner Lyle Lovett is a bit grayer with his famous hair than the last time I saw him. He is probably a bit wiser too, I would imagine, given the fact that he has been at the professional music game for over 30 years. At his recent Uptown Napa show, in support of his current tour, Lovett stated that when he was a kid, he realized he could make a living at songwriting because it was easier than mowing his parents' lawn, and from there, things took off on a long and winding career that has spawned so many songs.
Lovett has a dedicated fan base, and I'm part of it. His music has been part of The Soundtrack Of My Life for almost as long his career itself. His songs have carried me through love and heartbreak, too many bad decisions, and countless road trips. His music is as much a part of my DNA as any other profound force in my life. His songs are stories, poetic journeys that deliver humor, sadness, and joy.​

Clinton is touring with, literally, a new generation of PFunk that includes his son and daughter, many of his grandkids and kids of PFunk alumni. Now, forgive me for being unclear on a few things here. Truth be told, I have no idea who everyone onstage was or what their names were, as it was too hard to keep track. But at any given moment, the stage was filled with up to 20 people including two guitarists, three backup singers, keys, drums, bass, sax, a ton of MC’s and rappers and Mr. Clinton himself, all giving it their all as they bounced, danced, twerked, and interacted with each other while blasting us with tightly played music.​

It was pure chaos in the best sense of the word. There were sexy costumes, sequins, guitar-shredding-hair flips, sexual innuendo, platform shoes, the sharing of joints all amid a swirl of active antics on stage. The band continually gave high fives, fist bumps, and handshakes to the crowd throughout the night. MC’s came and went, rapping and rhyming to the PFunk beat. Mics were pointed to the audience, and copious amounts of sing-alongs were had during significant hits such as “Give Up The Funk”, “Flash Light”, and many covers of well-loved hop-hop and soul tunes. Featured also were many new songs from Clinton’s latest studio album Medicaid Fraud Dogg, which brings PFunk into the 21st century with current themes lyrically and wicked funk-rock beats. The racially mixed crowd smiled and smiled and smiled, while much hooting, hollering, and cheering ensued. There was true love from the players to the audience. ​

 Blues artist Katie Knipp knows how to multi-task, and we are talking about that in the biggest sense of the phrase, being both an active mother of two small children as well as blowing up her musical career in a major way. Knipp hails from Sacramento and is fast becoming one of the Bay Area’s darlings in blues, having her most recent album, “Take It With You” land at #9 on the Heat Seekers charts and #10 on Billboard’s Blues Album chart ( of which she shared chart space with other blues masters such as Buddy Guy and Kenny Wayne Shepard,) “I almost passed out!” Knipp states upon hearing how her album was doing, “Then I was quickly brought back to Earth by needing to clean up my 2 year old’s vomit about a minute later.”   Such is the life of a rock star mom, glory amid the day-to-day stresses of maternal duties. “It’s a daily struggle”, says Knipp, “but I am learning how to prioritize every single minute. “
 
It’s also worth mentioning that Knipp’s album was on the ballot for a Grammy nomination, and although that fell through and she didn’t make it to a nomination, she feels like the nod from the Grammy organization was a serious gift to her career, stating, “The experience of being on the ballot for nomination consideration was extra special. The radio support for my album has also meant so much to me, especially overseas, as it has translated to more direct sales of my CDs and downloads online.”

That piece of paper that often lays below they players on the stage may seem like nothing much, just a bunch of words and notations that is often soaked with booze by the end of any given night of music. But alas, it is so much more than that, as it is the coveted Set List, and it’s presence to both musician and fan is incredibly important.
 
To the musician, the set list for any given performance can help them remember what songs to play, in what order and in what key. Sometimes notes are added as to who sings or plays during that song. The set list can be a constant reminder of what to do so that they can focus on playing the music without thinking “Oh Shit, what’s next?” Set lists are not always followed exactly, for example troubadour folk singer Ramblin’ Jack Elliot often does set lists, but usually doesn’t follow them. He jumps around, singing songs that may or may not be on the list, often taking requests from the audience or completely ignoring a song he was set to play in lieu of another.

In 1985, “Unabomber” became a household name, the Regan Era was in it’s full-fascist swing, there were over 4 billion people on the planet and John Cougar Mellencamp introduced the world to his eighth studio album Scarecrow which gave a musical reflection of world events and the corporate hold we were now under. The American Dream was crumbling into dust and there was need for a voice during that time to show us the light while explaining what was going on. With the Scarecrow album, Mellencamp stayed close to his musical Americana roots while moving to a more political direction with his songwriting. In particular, he gave voice to the plight of the American farmers fighting to save their farms, expressing their burdens in songs like "Rain on the Scarecrow" and "You've Got to Stand for Somethin'
 
Marin County guitarist and songwriter Danny Click decided it was high time to create a live show around Scarecrow, as the album still holds ground in this day and age. Click grew up in Americana farmland, so he understood directly the plight of the agricultural hell many farmers were experiencing in the 80’s. “Everything on the album is true of how the farmers felt about what was going on with the farmland”, says Click. “It’s a statement to what was wrong with the world at the time. It’s sad to see that it’s all still wrong 34 years later”

Ah, the guitar, such a fabulous instrument, so versatile and emotive. When placed in the right hands the guitar can sing, squeal, moan, groan and wail. It can pierce your heart, your soul and your whole being with the right combination of strings. The guitar is sexy and can make you feel things your mom told you not to feel. When one bares witness to a true master of the guitar at work, one can experience God; and so, with that preface, I introduce to you blues-rock guitarist Joe Bonamassa.