Looking for Russell Cushman art ?: http://russellcushmanart.blogspot.com/

Looking for BLUES HISTORY?


Monday, October 31, 2011

Catie Curtis Part III: Finding common ground with small potatoes

OK, so it took three parts! So now lets talk about the music. Catie Curtis is a gifted messenger and brought along a couple more just like her to her gig in La Grange. Her songs touched me, in spite of all I have said, and I would go see her again.

I kidded my buddy that he had brought me to a gay bar and we had a good laugh. This was just one night at The Bugle Boy, and a bit specialized I assume, a landmark event in an emerging legend in Texas music, and we were good natured and ready to listen. And Catie was a superb entertainer, no matter what her vignettes or goals for the evening were, and she still had some more surprises up her sleeve.

She introduced her protégé, Jenna Lindbo. She has a beautiful smile as well and sang ever so sugar-sweetly. One song about her music teacher was especially good, the kind of song you rarely hear, of one musician acknowledging another's influence.

At the end, Catie introduced famed Texas singer-songwriter Susan Gibson, sitting in the audience, who had been helping out in the sound booth. She graciously came up and sang with them, and did a number of her own. All great stuff. Catie led all of us in an almost churchy sounding song, about the fact that we are just passing through this world. She asked that we sing along the last verse acapella, and we did, and it was the very best of America at that moment. I was proud to be there and join in that song with so many with whom I may have little else in common.

We had a good time, got to see the Bugle Boy on a night with some unforgettable performers, and left smiling. But I had tons rolling through the minefield in my mind… We'll just call it the MINDFIELD.

Unbeknownst to us, Catie Curtis was advertised as a popular gay singer, along with Susan Gibson in Out Smart Magazine, having just done a sort of gay tour that played at Dosey Doe in the Woodlands. I guess my fearless leader and I are always the last to know. We weren’t just small potatoes, but the little ones left down in the potato bin that grow big eyes and get chunked.

No comments: