DEADWOOD
REVIVAL
Revivin'
the Dead
When
Deadwood Revival took the
stage at Eugene's Sam Bond's Garage on
a Wednesday night this last week, there was electricity in the
air, and it wasn't static. The crowd had been gathering for some
time, for Eugene is Trenerry country and the extended clan showed
up early to get good seats because DwR sports
two Trenerry's, Kim by birth and Jason by marriage. Sure, Jason
Mogi is not really a Trenerry, but for this one night it didn't
matter, for the family welcomed all of DwR as
family, as did the crowd. To the family, this wasn't a show, it
was a reunion!
What it ended up being was a party,
though, and if no dead were revived, it was through no fault of
the band who played long and hard in the vein of asses
off.
I was lucky enough to have caught the band last Spring at Corvallis' Bomb's Away Cafe and knew they came to play, but even those of us who had seen DwR's sweat-inducing shows in the past were not prepared for what was to come. The doors behind the stage slid open at 7 PM, and the five touring vagabonds (four band members and their manager, Carol Pope) filled the stage with equipment in less than ten minutes which was something to see in itself--- poetry in motion, it was. By 7:30, they had plugged, arranged, mic-checked, sound-checked and body-checked everything to their satisfaction and spent the next half hour visiting and reacquainting themselves with relatives and friends they obviously see all too seldom. Hugs, drinks and kisses were passed around like candy at Halloween until it was time to take the stage and I'm not too sure they didn't take it, literally, because I had to leave on the midnight side of 11:30 due to pure exhaustion (I felt like a deserter) and the party was still going strong. And this was a Wednesday, fer chrissakes!
From
the first note, you knew you were in for something. Jason Mogi is
a maniac on the clawhammer banjo, Ches Ferguson lays down a bottom
line with his uke-bass (you have to see it to believe it amd it
uses rubber strings!) that is as bottom as you can get and
Trenerry and Julie Campbell? Sharp as a tack on their respective
instruments (that would be acoustic guitar and fiddle) and loaded
for bear. The band quickly worked their way through a solid list
of country and bluegrass flavored songs, mostly originals with a
few traditional tunes for good measure and it wasn't long before
the tables and chairs were moved to create dance floor. Most
notable on the first set were Mogi's Bound To Go, a
light-stepper which allowed his banjo and the voices of Mogi and
Trenerry a chance to warm up, Mogi's rousing Roscoe Stomp,
and Trenerry's Ain't the Buying Kind. Along the way, they
belted out a version of Johnny Cash's Big River, Dylan's
You Ain't Going Nowhere and songs by the Dead and Neil
Young. The highlight of the night, though, was an extended version
of Mattie's Jam which eventually gave way to their rockin'
showstopper, Shake the Barnhouse Down. By the time that was
over, even the building was sweating.
After an hour and fifteen minute set, they took a short break and hit the stage again, picking up right where they left off, and the longer they played, the more the crowd responded. Hoots and whistles began to meet every vocal and solo and even crescendo until the crowd was as much a part of the music as was the band. Like I said. It was a party.
And like I said, I walked out on the left side of 11:30, tired and dreading the long drive home, but I felt good. My ears weren't ringing (my thanks to Kevin, the sound man, and Jason Mogi, who ran the instruments through his own board) and I was grinning (couldn't stop, in fact, and after a bit that gets downright annoying). All the way home, I kept thinking what a shame it is that festival promoters were so busy plucking from lists of so-called 'names' that they overlooked Deadwood Revival. Sure, they get an occasional spot, but not like they deserve, and they are made for the festival circuit. They are the kind of band you stumble upon and stick around for what you think will be a minute but end up staying for the whole set. They are the kind of band that people ask for because it isn't the popularity or status that puts the bomp in the bomp, if you get my drift, it's the music and the showmanship.
This isn't the review I wanted to write. I wanted to convey the rush the music gave the crowd and the good fellowship and the joy it spread. I am not a good enough writer to even begin to describe that, so you'll just have to use your imagination. I also wanted to say that it isn't easy, being on the road for two weeks and playing show after show between long drives. Imagine what it is like to drive somewhere and play two or three sets only to load up and drive again. Luckily, this was their last show of the tour and it was hellacious, the kind of show that can rejuvenate a band. Bet most of the people there that night needed rejuvenation on a grand scale the next morning.
Crap! I'm grinning again. My face muscles are sore. Know what? I'm beginning to hate those guys.
Frank O. Gutch Jr.
Supporting the Indies Since 1969
