How I’d almost forgotten what it’s like
That buoyant highline ride across a string of performances that just won’t let you stop til it’s all done.
But after two days of wake-up, travel, play til numb, stare at alien bedroom ceiling, get up too soon after a dawn ice storm, absorb coffee and carbs, play too many hours too long but not stop even after the last video is shot, prattle on over burgers before bed, and then performing for a third day at the Martin Museum despite swollen fingers and the unexpected construction of a special presentation site for a private, deep-pocketed tour heard just off-camera, and ending up in a hotel room rented to construct our own makeshift video studio because some new Martins suddenly became available at the Distribution Center, just as I was on my way to that stage coach home, I still ended up spending Friday night back in Brooklyn, vibrating in front of my best friends while gratefully absorbing their 21-year-old Balblair and Insanely-year-old Caol Ila, and then staring at my own bedroom ceiling only to not be able sleep past 7 on Saturday, what with my girlfriend sick as a dog in Florida when I can’t take care of her, and so much back log of writing to do after the soul-crushing fatigue of my own 30-day bout of the flu has finally dissipated just in time for this past week’s trip.
And here I am on Saturday night, now after midnight, after a good sushi dinner with “super dry” hot sake, after borrowing a pre-CBS seafoam green Stratocaster, after one too many glasses of the Great Malt Which Wounds from the Isle of Skye, after Season 1 episode 2 of Grantchester, here I sit, with roommates and cat having given up long before.
And 11 hours from now I head out, Strat in hand, to the plush Battalion Studios in Gowanus for a large amplifier reunion jam with my 1990s rock band, the Cheese Beads. (And me with no ear plugs!)
I have a sneaking suspicion that sometime Monday morning I will fall off the proverbial cliff…
Until the next tour gets underway.
But at least that one will require of my fingers little beyond giving massages to some very special toes situated near, if not always on, a beach in Florida, and lapping up some sun and sea.
I’ve never been that far south before. I hear it’s nice there.
Live from Rome, 1980, Talking Heads featuring Adrian Belew
Hypnotic, Exhilarating, and Far Too Long Ago
Talking Heads had been together for five years at the time this concert film was shot. There is as much time between this performance and today as between this performance and the Attack on Pearl Harbor.
The band’s sneak attack on conventional popular music ultimately changed the musical world order, as ripples of the post-Punk revolution were felt ever afterwards. It could be said this was Talking Heads at their peak, just before they took a hiatus and returned as a slicker, well-established music industry entity that appears in Johnathan Demme’s cinematic release Stop Making Sense.
By this time, the core members of the band were supplemented with many more human components that gelled into one of the most original and influential contemporary concert acts of their time. This included the exuberant anarchy of guitarist Adrian Belew, whose compelling fretboard antics continued to be imitated by other Talking Heads guitarists (and elsewhere) after he moved on to other musical horizons.
Happy 70th Birthday to Jerry Harrison!
If you missed the interview with Paul McCartney, here it is
Along with extra footage, 60 Minutes profile of McCartney as the White Album turns 50
T Spoon Phillips’ album Lost and Haunted Ways is now available for digital downloading
Please follow the link below
Praise for Lost and Haunted Ways…
“A five star soundtrack for a long journey… Well done, Mr. Phillips!” – Gary Hlavinka, Pittsburgh, PA
“A musical storyteller who spins yarns in his playing, the cuts on Spoon’s Lost and Haunted Ways have an evocative, narrative quality, with unpredictable plots and dramatic twists that draw in the listener.
At moments — for example, during “The Ghost’s Walk” — I felt the sensation of getting pulled toward the speakers. Really well done. “ – John Stone-Mediatore, fingerstyle guitarist, Delaware, OH.
“The quality of the recording is crisp and clear, with a performance that is flawlessly executed. Enjoying it!” – Stan Entsminger, Jacksonville, FL.
“Love it! … With each song, I envision traveling to a new location and enjoying the trip.” – Steve Bolfing, Brazoria, TX
“A very gifted song stylist at a really, really high level. And with songs so well constructed, so melodic, so visually evocative, I found myself not even listening to the sounds, but just traveling on little journeys. – Max Zug, Lancaster, PA.
T Spoon Phillips – Lost and Haunted Ways
“…a brilliant piece of musical art for the ages. Bravo, Spoon!” – Rhys Ord
Hear the full compositions of the original guitar music used in our video reviews, onemanz.com and at maurysmusic.com.
Available on CD and as a Digital Download*
Prices for USA:
CD – $15 + $5 processing, Total $20
Digital Download – $12 + $3 processing fee, Total $15
CD and Download Combination – best deal – Total $25
CDs will be mailed within 24 hours of payment.
*The Digital Download is a pre-order, as it is still in production. Expected completion date is August 15, 2018.
The Download will include two copies of the album, in remastered 24-bit high definition wav files and mp3 files.
Additional donations to help cover production costs, which greatly outstrip any monies made back in sales, are gratefully accepted.
Do to U.S. Postal costs, CD’s sent to Canada, UK, and Europe are $30, but will include a coupon for the Digital Download.
PayPal payment to firstname.lastname@example.org
In the note section, please state if you are buying CD Only, Digital Download Only, CD and Digital Download Como.
Also list your mailing address (for CD orders) and the email address where we can send a link and password for the download (done through Drop Box Pro.)
For other payment options, please inquire here or at onemanz.com
Check out Spoon’s detailed notes on each track HERE.
So there I was, sliding my room card into my room’s door at 3:30 AM…
And I was still leaving a few people standing in the snacks room with guitars in their hands, or hovering about those who still had guitars in their hands.
Three of these people were Jim.
There was Jim Adams (Green River Running) pounding out the tunes on a rosewood custom dreadnought, customized enough that it would be hard categorize it, other than to say it subtle pearl accents around the top, rosette, and fretboard. Jim has been the last man standing alongside me at more than one Martinfest, although it has been more difficult for him to get here since he relocated out West to Vista, CA.
There was Jim Burke, from Colonia, NJ, as even keeled as ever with the CEO-7 that just seems like an extension of his corporal and spiritual body, and that constant expression of serenely enjoying yet another Martinfest, while humbly exhibiting how, as was described that night by someone else as, Jim is a much better guitar player than he realizes.
And there was Jim Fortmuller (Fortja) from Alexandria, VA, with someone else’s 000-28 Eric Clapton model – Jim’s own loyal D-35 still waiting for its master in the song circle room, in its baby blue Martin case. It has been over five years since he and I were working for the same company, and here he is, finally making his first Martinfest, and making the most of it. I knew he was a very good songwriter, and now so many others found that out, in the song circle room, and from his short set at Martin on Main earlier in the day.
The others in that last little group were Skye Van Saun (Skyewriter,) just enjoying the vibe with while holding her long-empty champagne glass like a scepter of high office; Tony Phillips (Tonguy,) whose scotch class was rarely empty, nor the chambers of his smoking Quip and Jestin’; and Danny Kerr, from Marysville, Ohio, who opened the Martin on Main performances in harmony with his brother Matt (Orangematt), and who was falling hard for the Madagascar and Adirondack seduction in the America’s Guitar limited edition belonging to Jay Keller (Jay Keller,) who was also there as I slipped out, still pounding out songs with Jim Adams.
Before I found my way to that hardcores sanctuary, I had been taking part in some jamming on traditional Country and Jazz and Latin tunes led by Paul Ukena (Mac Mechanic,) with one of our guest artists, Will Marin on the upright bass fiddle and lead vocal, and including stalwarts like Rick McClay (McThistile) on a Martin acoustic bass guitar, Fred Kagen with his wonderful 1943 000-18, when he wasn’t playing Bob Hamilton’s (Pickaherringbone) heavenly 1934 000-28, and Al Coppella (AlCopp) who wasn’t singing a capella, and eventually Frank Krupit (LEFTFRANK) whose arrival allowed us to pull out some of our Paul Ukena Trio tunes, albeit in much looser arrangements to accommodate the other players.
Similar loose arrangements were filling up the room next door early in the evening, as Will and her partner Robert Bowlin were at the heart of a much larger play-along with mandolins and a bunch of guitars in addition to Robert’s 1943 000-18 and his well-worn fiddle, as well as Will’s 1950’s D-28. Standouts included Don MacNeil from Celtic Spirit, on Mandolin, and Lee Cunningham on his very new custom dreadnought that appeared to be a D-18 with a large sound hole, and colorful wood marquetry ala Style 30.
Lee caught me mesmerized as my internal computer tried to download the imagery and processes what his guitar might be, and he turned to guy next to him and said, “He’s doing it again.”
And I spent the first part of the evening in the song circle room, listening to some of the people already mentioned, along with Diana Keller (Dianasaur) just knocking it out of the park with contemporary cover tunes owned by her soulful voice, and Gypsy Davey Kraut (David’s Harp) pulling out edgy traditionals and delightful originals I have never heard him play in all these years.
By the way, I got a report of a fella in that circle with “curly hair” and a pinkish shirt, who had a wonderful singing voice and sang something he had written for his wife. But I was out of the room. And I cannot figure out who it was. So if anyone remembers, please let me know!
Not much else to mention, except for another successful Martin on Main at the top of the street fair in downtown Nazareth, PA, where Martin had a booth set up of new guitars – including an amazing D-28 Authentic 1937 with a surprisingly comfortable neck, running into Danny Brown, manager at the Custom Shop who sought me out to thank me for the letter I wrote to them expressing my appreciation for the custom Martin I received in December; C. F. Martin IV, who was happy to have his photo taken with me and that same guitar, a whole host of talented musicians taking the main stage, along with our guest artists Robert and Will, who played a very nice set indeed thanks to Will’s charming voice and Roberts very genuine voice and his nimble fingers that have made him the only person to date to win the title of National Champion at Winfield in both flatpicking and fingerpicking.
It is too bad that the rain came back to cut the day short. But it was great fun while it lasted. I was among those whose set was cancelled. But I still got some brownie points back at the hotel by playing the Tom Waits song I had doctored a bit in dedication to my sweetie pie, who is here for her first Martinfest and having a wonderful time. And she finally got to do some singing of her own in the song circle room last night and will be making her lead singer debut at the Park open mic later today.
OK, gotta get to the free breakfast while it lasts…
What a difference a good night sleep can make.
Thursday was whirlwind. We had smooth sailing once we were through the Holland Tunnel, but ran into zero-visibility rain, just a few minutes form the hotel.
This is our second year at the Best Western Lehigh Valley Conference Center, with some overflow down the lane at the Hampton Inn.
The greeting of old friends began the moment I walked through the door to find Ken Klamert (kens d28) from down Louisiana way, sitting in one of the lobby chairs, happy to be here and happy to have brought along the old 00-18 he knows I am so fond of – which is celebrating its 70th birthday this year.
It would be a birth-year Martin for another favorite southerner who is happily in attendance. But since he don’t look his age I shan’t mention any names. But I hope he will forgive my sporadic reports.
I sent out an APB about my room location and soon heard a knocking.
There was Ed “Sweet Lips” Madonio, David Musselwhite, along with Fred Schrager. And with them was a brand new D-1 Authentic, which Ed claimed to be the best sounding brand new Martin he ever heard. I have yet to experience this instrument myself, but I hope to later this evening. [Didn’t happen. Sigh. Next year!]
And then came the many hellos and reunitings, and delightful meet ups with some various friends who haven’t been able to come to Martinfest for some time, in some cases four or five years! These included Stuart Sharp a Scotsman who lives in Homefirth, England and Mark Stalwick, from the Seattle area, who was clearly having a great time back in the ranks of us long-time Martinfest vets.
The weather had kept many from arriving for the traditional first night. So it was a more intimate event. I was quite tuckered out from the previous two weeks of 14 hour days, so we retired early, without any clue of course of the tragic events that followed soon after. And while Greg’s tragic death is a sad blow for all his Martinfest friends, I know the last thing he would want is ruin the party for everyone else. And we will bond together all the more as a result.
On Friday morning, after the somber breakfast at the hotel, my guest and Bella the wonder pooch headed off to the Martin factory for their first ever tour. We missed the turn off and ended up coming back through the countryside from the east of town, and through the hamlet of Cherry Hill, which is where C. F. Martin Sr. settled his family after they moved from New York City circa 1839.
I used to imagine Cherry Hill being way out in the countryside, from the letters and descriptions from that time. Only in recent years did I realize that it is in fact the gentle rising land directly across the street from Martin Guitar’s current location! Then I realized back in the early 1800s, Nazareth was situated on one hill, and Cherry Hill was basically the next hill over. And all that bottom land between has been swallowed up by the modern town.
I have not taken a tour in some years, so I was surprised to see so many aspects of the guitar-building process has become the work of high-tech robots, like the stamping of the center strip that goes inside the guitar, and other things once done by human hands.
As a reminder or a caution to those who don’t know, Martin starts work at 5 AM so most of the work stations are empty by 2 PM. A word to the wise is, get the earliest tour possible. And these days, you cannot get a tour before 11 AM, unless you reserve it in advance.
I did get a quick handshake from Tim Teel, Director of Instrument Design, and a quick wave to Jeff Allen busy in a meeting, as one can expect the Vice President of Global Manufacturing to be. And there, putting some extra hours in, was Emily of the Custom Shop, who is focusing on the ornate cosmetic appointments these days.
They have moved the Custom Shop to the front door where the tours enter, rather than having it hidden deep inside. A very smart move I feel.
Despite getting there later in the day, we did get to go up to the desk of Michael Dickinson, where he showed us an 0-28 from the early 1890s in immaculate condition, with its original coffin case, and the period shipping crate! It had hand written addresses on it, in flowing script, and there was even a photograph of the guitar’s original owner, sitting on a lawn as a teenager, playing a banjo among older family members. After a little work the old ivory friction peg tuners should allow it to be tuned up and played. Hmmmm. Another Authentic Series model in the works?
Speaking of new guitars in the works, one of lucky members has purchased a very special prototype – of the CEO-7 TWELVE-STRING! I have yet to see this guitar. But it was making the rounds Friday night after I was tucked up under the covers to get a march on the world. (More about this special instrument later.)
That reminds me The first guitar I played at this year’s Martinfest was an AMAZING 1932 00-40H that has been converted to a 00-45 by T J Thompson. He even managed to preserve all the original pearl and binding while inlaying the extra pearl. The guitar was purchased without a fingerboard, so he had to make a new one, as well as a new bridge. But as expected, they were both emasculate reproductions.
But I am getting ahead and behind of myself. After our tour and checking out the Summer NAMM Martins, which I unable to come see in July do to my recording project schedule, we headed off the Nazareth Boro Park for the first official UMGF Martinfest day.
Again the weather and work schedules kept many way on Friday this year. So it was a small but content group listening to the open mic performances, playing some the guitars set out, etc. I most enjoyed a MINT 1902 00-30, with extra light steel strings on it. I remain amazed how the vintage 00s can project so much beautiful tone when played with even a light hand.
And then the rains returned with a vengeance. And I mean biblical proportions as the light struck repeatedly near by, and the downpours when from heavy, to extremely heavy, to this is ridiculous heavy, and the creek running along the Long Pavilion took on the looks of the raging Colorado River.
After it broke we all scattered for the hotel, but another even harder rain hit and the highway came to a halt, so we did a U Turn on the entrance ramp and took the back rounds, which paid off well.
There was a cheese and wine sort of reception at 7 PM and by that time many more regulars and first-timers had arrived and things were getting well under way. Both of the main music rooms were full, but as I was still running on fumes from the past month, I was back to another early bed (by Martinfest standards) and my overworked hands were given another day off, except for the short rehearsal I had with Paul Ukena and Frank Krupit for our Martin on Main performance.
I am happy the good night’s sleep and hand rest have paid off.
The rains have stopped, the sun is supposed to be out by noon, and it looks to be a right fine day ahead, if a swampy one after the week’s monsoon.
to be continued…
A great friend and even greater human being has died.
At long last I can get back to a keyboard to share the very tragic news that Greg Kendig (Kendig97), died suddenly at the end of the first evening of Martinfest.
I got the news as we were on our way to breakfast at the hotel restaurant.
No words can adequately convey the loss for us all, which does not come close to what his wife and family are now suffering.
This has been a year of loss in the dearest, saddest of ways. But no one could have predicted such a tragedy could befall such a strong and vital man, and one of the be persons one could know, at the very event that brought him into all our lives, and which he so loved.
Sunday’s memorial for our departed friends will now be as much for Greg as all the others who have gone before him.
I have suspended posting in my Journal of Adventure for the time being. I will return to it tomorrow, Saturday, if not tonight.
Each year, I am expected to write and post my Martinfest Journal of Adventure
And I must do it whilst trying to play guitar, catch up with old friends, get to know new ones, and maybe find time to sleep. OK, maybe not sleep.
Here is the first installment, just now posted at the Unofficial Martin Guitar Forum, the organization responsible for this amazing event.
I pulled into Nazareth, just about a year ago, not having a clue as to what would transpire across the coming twelve months. And now I can reflect a bit as I await my ride to take me to the Shangri-La that is Martinfest – the 17th Annual Martinfest no less.
And as the years have accumulated, this event has started to eclipse birthdays and Christmases as the major milestone marker in my life, and turned into a family reunion of sorts as much or more than a wonderful opportunity to see and play some of the most exquisite acoustic guitars ever created, and hear so much wonderful music, in a setting of all-day, all-night celebration and frivolity.
This Martinfest comes with some significant firsts.
I always enjoy meeting people for the first time, at their first Martinfest. So, if you are a Green Dot newbie, please feel free to seek me out and say hello. And pass that along to anyone you veterans might be bringing as a guest.
I am actually bringing along a guest for the first time ever, myself. And she is quite excited about meeting everyone and joining in the singing of songs and the making of merry. So, in the Martinfest sense, I am a bachelor no longer.
That makes me very happy. But I am also quite sad that she never got to meet Laura Voorhis, as I am certain they would have made fast friends and enjoyed each other’s company and humor immensely.
Laura, who had been to every Martinfest, and who was the hostess supreme of the informal Thursday Night Welcoming Party, had to leave this greater cosmic party early. And as far as I am concerned, this entire Martinfest will be played-out and made the most of in her honor.
No one was more supportive and encouraging of my own music than Laura, from the moment she handed me her first Martin at the first Martinfest and asked me to play it for her, because she was too shy about playing in front of other people. So, I am selfishly sorry she didn’t get a chance to see and her my first commercially available album of original solo guitar compositions.
It will be officially released on August 9, 2018. But until then, it will be exclusively available to anyone attending Martinfest who might be interested in owning a copy. And you can learn more about that at tspguitar.com and One Man’s Guitar.
A copy o f the CD will be auctioned off at the Park on Sunday, to benefit the UMGF Martinfest coffers.
And so I am seriously ready to wind down and unwind after the four months of recording and production, and mourning far too many losses, and to get down to playing guitars just for the fun of it, and the love of it, and for the love of music that we all share at Martinfest, while we can.
May there be much rejoicing and delightful voicing.
More to come…
For those wishing to better understand what Martinfest is all about, please see this article from 2013.
July 1, 1968 the band called the Band released Music from Big Pink
They changed American music forever
But not just American music was widely influenced by this scraggly group of Americans and Canadians. Eric Clapton heard the record and decided to quite what he was doing and go do something else. He even considered moving to Woodstock, NY to meet these guys and talk them into letting him join the Band.
Here’s the Band 30 years later, joined by the Staple Singers, performing the most iconic song from that first record.