Ready to face the machine guns... of Mo McMorrow

SIX years ago I ran home to write my weekly music blog after a wonderful singer-songwriter performed at the Corner Cafe here in Navasota, and in a rare instance, I experienced writer's block. I'm sure now I was afraid I had lost my objectivity, and sure I would be too much in love with the performer to be credible... And also painfully aware that my take on her music might be appreciated by her the least... (I had gotten some angry feedback at that time from some of the visiting musicians who hated my reviews...)  So I let it brew awhile.  

And then I forgot about it. Sorry Mo! I am ready to face the machine guns!

I do not believe in re-incarnation. But sometimes a song comes along which seems to connect me with an eternal, primeval chain of souls who reach for me from out of the past-  and possesses me- hand-in-glove, through the singer. And I have to admit that when this happens, it is usually some kind of music which is derived from Irish traditions.

Sure I love folk and country and rock and roll, and I'm learning to appreciate blues. The first time I felt this supernatural Irish effect was listening to an Eddie Rabbitt 8-track. He sang a mystical song about Ireland like he knew and loved it with all of his being... and as I listened, I too became Irish. Man I went there! An exceptional musician can do that. The same way Blind Willie Johnson and Al Green baptized me African American, and Merle Haggard brought me into the brotherhood of ex-cons. It is something wonderful and spiritual and completely a divine fruit of the imagination. Music is a way we can all celebrate the brotherhood of man... and YES woman... I am a woman whenever I listen to Jewel, or Crystal Gayle.

But when my daughter introduced me to Steeleye Span... I was a goner. I became Irish in my soul of souls, and the rest was just quaint cultural exchange. I was grooving to words I could not even understand. You Tube then fed me an infinite dive into “my past.” The crying fiddles, the driving rhythms, and tenor ecstasies... and sometimes bagpipes that choke me up when they just begin to whine. They reset my emotions instantly. 

(Click below for Cam Ye O'er Frae Franc by Steeleye Span... several versions, I love the shorter studio version the best, second from the left, but all worth listening to)

http://search.aol.com/aol/video?s_it=sb-top&s_chn=prt_bon&v_t=comsearch-aolnewtab-t&q=you+tube+steeleye+span+cam+ye+o+frae+franc

When I discovered the anthem Erin Go Bragh (Ireland forever!), I was sure I was hearing the caress of my ancestral heartstrings...
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q3Nqg2ohiDY

When they sing FACE THE MACHINE GUNS for Erin Go Bragh, I am so ready! 

Still, I had no clue what these folks were so mad about... But it was inspiring to be exposed to such conviction, such unanimity, all shared through soulful poetry.

 Mo McMorrow

So if you understand or even relate to any of this you will probably enjoy Mo McMorrow... a darlin' lass of Irish extraction who sings here in Texas like a passionate angelic missionary. And you will grow to love her recordings like Irish Gold from across the sea. I heard her first in Schulenburg, Texas at a downtown festival... She had commandeered a beauty parlor for the evening and won everyone's hearts... and most of them were of hard-core German extraction. I played her first CD (Excellent: Mona Lisas Don't Cry) until it had so many dings in it that it became irritating... I had to find another one... That led me to her next album.

McMorrow's album called Hangin' from a Nail (2013) continues her weaving of American and Irish traditions, and within she does her own version of the Irish standard, Spancil Hill.

Just twenty-three, Michal Considine wrote this song in the 1800's while dying in the gold fields of California. A native-born Irishman, his gaelic impetuousness led him to seek riches in a faraway land. And there he perished. But before he passed away, his adventure over, his gift of Irish poetry captured his epic regret as he realized he would never see Ireland, or the love of his life, again. He sent the song on where he could never go, to say good bye to everything he loved about his beloved home.

It was a very sad song, full of poetic, cultural pride and ethos. Thank goodness, the Irish loved it, and it has become a national anthem, if not a warning to NEVER LEAVE, ever since.

 Spancil Hill is the site of a traditional horse fair in County Clare.

You see, Irish music traditions are built on the same foundation as blues; Oppression and depression and the human struggle to endure. The music is large, hearty, focusing on the “small” people with huge loves, hates and passions. It is a catharsis for its audience, salving their hurts, but finding oneness in corporate self-pity and identity in a people chained to their own negativity. Like blues it will never go away as long as oppression (and Ireland!) exists. When you hear this music you remember your own pains and sufferings, and find comfort and community in the music. And it is good every once in awhile to free this stuff, which we tend to internalize, out of our systems. Thus Irish music has a very liberating effect.

So the Irish will always be the proud custodians of bedrock melancholy and discontent. Maybe it is in their DNA. Thankfully some of us have escaped. Mo is one, one of those exceptional musicians, transforming her passion for life and lore into soulful, engaging, inspiring performances.

But some of us have never escaped, or even sadder, never known what we escaped. But if you want to know... If you have a restless, wandering soul, if you are feelin' a bit Irish... Get Hangin' on a Nail, and especially Spancil Hill... but fetch your box of tissues first. Click below to have your socks blown off!

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RqKJs5ZLe3o

2 Bit Palomino- Like an aged wine...

An expectant crowd of music lovers spreads out at Bernhardt Winery in Plantersville. 

I had heard Andi and Peter Renfree first as "The Renfrees" at the Corner Cafe several years ago. They came back the next year re-invented as "2 Bit Palomino," with a new guitar picker and keyboardist, and unveiled their new songs... But being in transition, I chose to reserve my judgment and wait for more input before writing about them... Then a mutual friend invited me to see them at Bernhardt Winery in Plantersville.

2 Bit Palomino is a veteran threesome of Houston-based singer-songwriters who have found an original sound and written some catchy, solid songs. These are songs that make you remember those things in your sub-conscious that have been pushed aside by the tyranny of the urgent; things we need to hold on to.  

They were named the Vocal Group of the Year in 2011 and 2013 by the Academy of Texas Music. My favorite song is an epic song they sing, made famous by Chris LeDoux, and written by Andrea C. Renfree, Willie McCullough and Clay Canfield, called The Buffalo Grass. I promise, it sounds better than... it sounds... Anyway I'll bet this song had something to do with the fact that Howlin' Dog Records just signed them to a contract. The three are quite pleased with their new situation and looking forward to cutting the new album. Persistence and excellence have paid off.

Andi Renfree strolls among her crowd at Bernhardt Winery before she performs. With casual, down to earth ease, she explains how far her faith was stretched, how far she had to step out on faith, before the band was seemingly "instantly" rewarded with milestones of success in their respective careers.  Now they are going to enjoy the coming journey with appreciation that has been fermented like a fine wine. 

Bill-       Andi-      "Ren"

Bill Ward, the songwriter- guitarist and keyboard player, explains that he just performed in front of the Alamo. Now THAT is a Texas moment. He is doing his second performance in as many days, with a grueling drive in between. And the real work is just beginning. Only talent and commitment and down-right hard-headedness would have gotten them this far. And now, almost running on empty, they generously give us, who sit casually in our lawn chairs, an evening to remember...

Peter Renfree

2-Bit Palomino sings about No cowboys in Dallas, buffalo grass... and even about a whore. Bill sings a protest song. He finds no comfort that everyone agrees with his protest, that there is no more middle class in America. So it must not be a protest song... he explains, if everybody agrees with him... Their sensitive, sincere message strikes a chord with the audience. America is changing right before our eyes. The songs hit us where we sit; regular folks seeking a measure of peace and serenity in the middle of somewhere. And for just a moment,  remembering.

As in the days of yesteryear, songsters are the voice of our social conscience- and our consciousness. And for the moment, there is music, and friends, and Grimes County wine.

It has been a perfect evening. Too perfect. Native Americans would intentionally place a random bead in their bead work, a concession that only God can make perfection, and to keep themselves humble. I looked around and found the Bernhardt's "random bead"... a little light bulb had gone out.

You probably wonder about their name... it is also the name of one of their great songs... about that mechanical rocking horse we all begged to ride for a quarter as children, in front of the grocery store... Meanwhile 2 Bit Palomino has grown and matured into a promising act, and will be away, more than ever, on the road or in Nashville or whatever, and we are fortunate to have had an evening with them. And now they can get rested up for the challenges ahead. Good luck to them, and God Bless! And thanks for refreshing my memories!

YOU ARE HERE... What are you looking for? A little orientation may be in order.

Welcome to the Navasota Current. Feeling mired in tall grass? Let me guide you out of here.  This blog has now gotten over 90,000 page views. I have started a few other blogs to help specialize the info and make your searching easier. Basically, here are my blogs and the focus of each:


YOU ARE HERE:

russellcushman.blogspot.com, titled "the Navasota Current"

The Navasota Current is my "kitchen sink." It is mostly about the history, material culture, and lifestyle of Navasota, Texas and the surrounding area. There are over 500 articles about local heroes (like Ranger Frank Hamer) , tourism information, TEXANA (like Texas stoneware) scenic photography, and some poems, songs, inspirational messages and even some political or social commentaries. You see what I mean about kitchen sink... As subjects reach their own critical mass, I branch them off into their own blog.


Many folks discover this blog looking for info about my art, what I actually do to put bread on the table, (and they understandably do not want a speech or history lesson...)  so I created a blog just about my art and art related essays... I also write some things to help and inform young artists...

[link]  russellcushmanart.blogspot.com, titled "Russell Cushman: Texas Painter & Sculptor"



I recently created a blog as a pilot project for the local Bryan ABC television station and its focus is the current arts and entertainment scene in the Brazos Valley...

[link]  brazosvalleyarts.blogspot.com, titled "BrazoSphere"
And if things do not change, :(  "BrazoSphere" will probably be amalgamated with my old music blog called:


[link]  brazosvalleyblues.blogspot.com, titled "Blues Valley"
Blues Valley was created to celebrate the wonderful music heritage of this region. There are articles about local musicians, past and present, concerts, and my unpublished manuscript about the origins and progenitors of Brazos Valley Blues. I call it "The Light of Day." There is a TON of local history here, but it is not the kind anybody wants to read. It is the unwritten struggle of racial and cultural warfare that forged the blues. It is TOMBSTONE, OH BROTHER, WHERE ART THOU, and  ROOTS all rolled into one.


Having these separate blogs really helps me track data and understand my readership. It is my version of the process of Natural Selection... Here are some interesting facts I have gleaned from my blog data provided by Google...


This blog is a Texas Ranger cyber-station! The Navasota Current has evolved into a Texas Ranger Internet resource. With 88,000 pages turned in over 500 articles in the Navasota Current alone, I can say without hesitation that Texas Rangers are one of my most popular subjects.  Almost 6000 of those pages turned have been in Ranger articles. My article on Texas Ranger badges, written this past year has already pushed to the top blog ever, with around 2,800 pages viewed. Articles about Rangers in Navasota, especially Captain Frank Hamer,  have accumulated another 2500 pages turned.

This is also a Texas Stoneware crossroads. The most popular subject overall has to be Texas stoneware. My series about Texas stoneware, parts I, II, & III, which can be found as permanent pages on the right side of the blog, has had 3000,  3700, and 630 pages turned for a total of 7330 pages turned.

I love statistics! These stats prove Texans still care about their history and about Texas artifacts. Some of these articles experience hundreds of hits in a day. On the right, at the top you will find a listing in the green column of "MY FAVORITE FEATURES." Here is where you will find permanant articles on Texas stoneware, Texas Rangers, thematic collections, and a series on Joan of Arc.

In the blue column on the right are my TOP TEN blogs, that my readers have made popular... These are the things most of you enjoy or want to know...

BUT Blues... not so much. Sadly, my blues blog, "Blues Valley," which includes lots of blues history and my manuscript on Brazos Valley blues, is now one year old, but has not collectively attracted as much as even one of these popular articles in the Navasota Current. THAT is marketing research. And I have responded accordingly!

If Texas stoneware is a 10, and Texas Rangers are a 9, and blues in general is a 1, then I  have a "photo-funny" about cowboy churches which would rate as a 6! Incredibly, with1300 pages viewed!  Not bad for something goofy that could be terribly misinterpreted! You can view it over on the right > "Boss, he says..."

The biggest surprise has been an article on INDIANOLA, TEXAS, (near the bottom of the list in blue) which has had over 570 hits! What is going on down there!?  Still, it's Texas history.. . so you can guess what you will see more of in 2014!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!  And thanks for stopping by!

Some wonderful shots of why I love this town!

Sorry Michael, but you are young to the rest of us!

Seeing these young people take part in our wonderful culture of music...
Tells me we are doing something right!

This little guy stole the show at the Navasota Bluesfest when he walked on the stage and knew the song just like the "real" Blues Brothers. 

The Blues Alley Cats' bass player, Jett McFalls' grandaughter Kensie made Navasota blues history as the youngest performer to sing on the professional stage. She did not blink an eye.  

The end of an era... the beginning of an another

It is the end of a couple of "eras" in our town's unfolding cultural scene.

Leon Collins has been painting on the sidewalk here for several years now and has become a familiar and popular Brazos Valley icon.

Spread out in front of Tejas Antiques (owned by Duane Garner, who had the vision and good sense to provide him a studio ) Leon Collins has sold thousands, yes thousands of his paintings to art enthusiasts from all over the country. He has been featured on television shows and magazine covers and newspaper articles. Recently Leon told me that he was turning a page and moving to cooler and more private headquarters, and planning on focusing his production toward the shows he is slated to do in Houston and New Orleans. After his success at Rice University, his place in Texas art is secure.

After all is said and done, Leon has taught local Navasota merchants what it takes to succeed using Navasota as a backdrop.

I feel like I could write a book after watching him carve out an art career against all odds, not to mention a bad economy. And in the process, his presence helped all of us, and I hate to admit it, he will be missed.

UPDATE; Leon came back... his art is still available at Tejas Antiques in downtown Navasota.

The Friday night jam session at Blues Alley is moving. We had our last jam there last friday night, with a packed house.

After seventeen months, we have outgrown the inadequate space at Blues Alley and the VFW Hall out on HWY 105 West has offered to host the event from now on. It has been a wonderful season, and in the process, I have picked up the wash-tub bass and drums as things I wish I could do... maybe someday with enough practice! Scores of musicians have complimented us with their attendance, and great music has come from this gathering. But last Friday night was a good example of why it had to go... fifteen musicians squeezed, VERY UNCOMFORTABLY IN OUR LITTLE STORE... all of whom deserve better, a place to flower and enough room for an audience to come enjoy their talent.

The jam has been a sweet chapter, a place to relish in talent and new friendships, a time to share and learn, and pass things on to those we love. Jett McFalls shares the bass with his granddaughter.

There is no doubt, it was special... the generosity of the musicians, the blending of rock and country and blues... it was just like heaven will be some day.

The jam will ot happen this Friday, as we will have a concert at the Brosig Auditorium the day before... THE BLUES CAPITAL REVUE, but we will resume the jam at OUR NEW LOCATION, ON AUG 17.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">

The Westernaires! At the Western Club in Navasota

Yes, this area has some outstanding country musicians. I tend to neglect them because I think country music has natural advantages in the Texas entertainment market, and I'm often trying to shed light on other, less popular genres. BUT, I was raised on country and always love a good country band... When Ray Hadaway put together the Westernaires, his goal was simple. Assemble the best Brazos Valley country artists that can lay down good old classic country... to play CLASSIC country made before the eighties. And that is what they do. Great Texas swing dance music, the kind our parents loved and we tried to learn as kids, long before John Travolta ever came to Texas and made Gilley's famous with Urban Cowboy and country music gradually went into a tailspin. Ray and his gang of veteran performers do right by Bob Wills, Asleep at the Wheel, and one of my old favorites, Johnny Bush, and many others. As the song goes, "If you wanna play in Texas, you gotta have a fiddle in the band," and the Westernaires have two. Contrary to the sound of their name, they are not the house band. Saturday evening they made their second appearance at the Western Club, to the delight of scores of serious dancers. Hoofers would plop down exhausted and then another great song would begin and they would jump up for "just one more." This is a solid Texas dance band that will keep the floor bouncing and make you remember what it was all about before country got so citified.

It all started with this guy...

As best as I can tell, this blind gospel singer was the first nationally known recording artist to bring the Texas blues tradition to Navasota...

Born in 1897 in Pendleton, Texas, Blind Willie Johnson sang his Blues-styled gospel songs on the streets of Navasota and other Brazos Valley towns for dimes. Mance Lipscomb remembered his visits here, when he would ask Mance to tune his guitar for him. Based in Marlin, Johnson recorded numerous times for Columbia beginning in 1927, first in Dallas, then New Orleans and Atlanta, and often with the sweet back up vocals of his wife Willie (Harris) Johnson, who finally settled down in Marlin to raise their only child.

Johnson remarried, the next time to Angeline Robinson, sister of blues master L. C. “Good Rockin” Robinson, of Somerville. He is said to have toured with Willie McTell, another blind bluesman, who also went on to become one of the most famous blues men in America. Mance told how Willie and another blind musician (whose name he could not recall), walked around town arm in arm, fearlessly crossing the muddy streets of Navasota as they slowly threaded their way amongst the horses and buggies.

Using a pocket knife or bottleneck, Blind Willie Johnson was one of the early developers of the slide guitar sound. Today his music enjoys cult status, and has inspired generations of guitarists, like Bob Dylan and Eric Clapton, who has recorded his songs. One of Mance’s best songs was a Blind Willie classic, also covered by Clapton, called “Motherless children have a hard time.” This song actually told of Willie’s unfortunate loss of his mother when just a toddler.

Johnson never enjoyed a financial reward from his music, which was so unusual that most American audiences ignored it. He had a novel affectation of changing voices in the middle of a song, escalating from a rugged tenor to an unsettling false bass that made a good impersonation of a demoniac. Legend has it that he so frightened authorities and the audience with his wild performance of “If I had my way, I’d tear this building down” that he was hauled to jail in New Orleans for inciting a riot.

His last years were spent preaching, but Blind Willie died in poverty and squalor in Beaumont, Texas in 1945. Only recently have the folks in Beaumont put up a historical marker celebrating this world-famous, yet impoverished musician. Ironically, today collectors will pay over $200.00 for one of his original 78 rpm records. And Willie was given a special status among his peers when his song "Dark Was The Night, Cold Was The Ground," was included on a CD of "essential music," made of gold and placed in the Voyager spacecraft to take our World's greatest music into the farthest reaches of man.

John Hogan: One more time... with ATTITUDE

It was another night at the Corner Cafe and I told myself, I have written way too many laudatory reviews for anyone to ever consider me anything but a local suck schmoozing for beers. I came into the performance by Jon Hogan and Maria Moss ready to hack them up. It was a matter of journalistic objectivity, my artistic integrity. They looked like two likely victims, a couple of big city wanna-be’s out trying to act like real talent where nobody knows the difference. I sharpened my pen.

Hogan, a wisp of a man, made my cynicism easy; I could probably take him later if I had to. You know, to defend my artistic integrity. Moss looked like… well, Ruth Buzze’s sister, some poor bag lady Hogan might have saved from a homeless shelter, who had kept her mother’s clothes, vintage hat and all. Either they were going to be laughable, or they had to be really good. I had found just what I was looking for, to re-establish my credibility. But quite inconveniently, they did not fit the bill. Once again, I must say, damn, where was the crowd that should have been there to witness such an extraordinary concert.

And it is just as well, when Maria Moss unwound and stepped off of the stage, all six foot of her, (or so,it seemed!) I felt... let's just say I felt like I should be very respectful... "Nice hat..." And then, it turns out the handsome stranger in the crowd was her husband. So I got a Shiner and started taking pictures.

I say Damn! Hogan and Moss were… I’m going to have to leave out everything but adjectives… Exhilarating… Fun, Heartbreaking, Wild, Crazy, Epic, Microcosmic, toe-tapping, head-nodding, gut busting, Soul searching, Wow, I can’t believe I’m in Navasota stupendousness.

John Hogan is a blast. He was born to entertain. If he had no audience, he would play to the forest. He just loves to sing. In fact, I have not heard such sheer joy in singing since my all time favorite, Rusty Wier, who was known to just haul off and half-yodel and laughingly holler for awhile. Hogan sings with happy abandon and sometimes seems to forget that the song even has an ending, or else he can’t stand to pinch it off, and everybody is just nodding and smiling with him. When he gets exhausted he turns the controls over to his co-pilot, Maria Moss who carries the musical journey until he gets back the air in his lungs, and then he might go another verse. It was exhausting to just watch them. What a gift.

By the end, they had made us live an extra year of our lives in a couple of hours. They made us love them... even their clothes... That's what genius does.

And all of this, just two blocks down from my house. It is such a great privilege to live at the center of the Universe. And thanks to Jon Hogan and Maria Moss for landing their magic carpet here, and sharing their song. If this is any sign of things to come, I’m not going anywhere!