Old Town School – On The Road
Dispatches from the road from our wayfaring travelers.
Why Abbey, Dvorak, Maddox, and Tyler
On two days notice, Juha Reunanen filled his photography studio with 30 guests for a Thursday night concert of an unknown American band Abbey, Dvorak, Maddox and Tyler. Auli Lehto-Tähtinen did an enormous amount of legwork in order to produce Finland’s 2009 Rootsinpyhtaa Bluegrass Festival, including making a cheese cake for the American band. Wasel Arar gave up sleeping for a week so he could host the Americans as well as play in two bands and help with the re-enactment camp. Marija Karhinen-Ilo and Lassi Logren dedicated prime space at their Helsinki folk school, Kansanmusiikkiopisto, and many hours of organizing to host a workshop put on by ADMT. Why would these Finns do so much work to host an unknown band of known folks whose reputations are spread out evenly across bluegrass, old time,folk and rock music?
Well, the answer seems to be that this band was billed to these presenters as both a group of professional roots music performers and as a group of teachers who have been trained by their work to lift the human spirt with all available musical means. What a joy to tour under these terms. Released from the need to be sexy young things or super pickers or torch bearer for a singular tradition, we were able to just be ourselves, make great music and communicate with some folks who were ready to receive. Paul sang a mean baritone and pitched some great material that bridged the gap between bluegrass and old time (Prodigal Son), Mark played some super fine claw-hammer banjo and transformed his amazing songs into ensemble pieces, and John found his inner-hillbilly and made everything sound cool by holding the whole band in his bear-like embrace.
As for myself, I felt like I was getting a rare opportunity to communicate using the international language of music. Silly style divisions were removed in the company of this band, and as a result the quality of the performances shot way up and the Finns really dug the vibe. This is the kind of festival experience that give people a chance to practice the art of being better people, and I was happy to be on board.
Filed under: Country,DMT in Finland,Finland,Notes from Colby by Colby | June 18, 2009 | Comments (3)
Why Finns
Finns hold back until they can give you a genuine response. Being from God fearing, Southern Illinois stock, I was prepared for the reserved part, but I was genuinely surprised and constantly charmed by how genuine Finns can be. It might take a few beers, or it might take until the end of the night but I was often locked into close conversation with folks. This kind of talking did not feel selfish, invasive or demanding and only occurred after some initial relationship had been established.
Matti, banjo player for the Clayhill Brothers, approached me on Thursday night to talk about how he got his banjo from Chip Covington 20 years ago, and how he had the chance to take a lesson with Bill Keith. We hit it off right away and shared stories about Chip, a mutual friend, and about Bill Keith’s curious fascination with the Circle of Fifths as a teaching tool. After a really great Friday night jam session at the bar (good rhythm, good turn taking, no contests), Matti secured a drink for me and began to talk about how he regretted not keeping up with the tall, boastful American who had sold him his first banjo. Matti was truly savoring the moment and allowing his emotions to bubble out like sweat from a good Sauna, and it was a surprising change from the usual “beer stories” that guys like to exchange.
Juha Reunanen, the owner of the venue we played at on Thursday night, found himself holding my mandolin about 30 seconds after I found out that he played mandolin. He played beautifully, and I figured if I gave it some time and slept on his floor for a few hours we would have some things to talk about later. Just before the show he introduced me to his musical friend who first gave him a mandolin, and as we were leaving he and his daughter Laura were overjoyed to receive a copy of the OTSFM songbook. A few days later I got an e-mail from Juha saying that Laura “got so carried away, that she is willing to pick up the fiddle after
years break.” Juha finally ended up in my Monday mandolin workshop where he picked everything up at lightning speed and was the first in line for my chord handouts at the end.
Kaisa, a musician and actor in the re-enactment camp, took on a whole bluegrass band with her accordion and beautiful singing at a late night Saturday night session. As the night wore on she was singing new verses to Shady Grove in Finish. The next evening when we returned to the camp we continued to exchange tunes with Kaisa, and by the time Paul and I had agreed on the titles, she had figured out the whole tune. Right click on this link to hear a sample.
After our Monday workshop in Helsinki we were treated to an incredible dinner by the folks at the Kansanmusiikkiopisto Folk Music School, and Kaisa dropped by after her work to say goodbye. Over a dinner of Reindeer meat and a dessert of fresh strawberries we got a chance to talk a little. She explained that her sister was attending the Sibelius Academy and that she had chosen to work a regular job, participate in a small theater company and enjoy developing her music at her own pace.
Wasel Arar, our endlessly friendly and helpful host, did not let on that he was a mandolinist until day two of our stay. Dressed in 19th century clothes from the re-enactment camp and sporting perfect English and a taste for American humor (both picked up from the American school he attended as a kid in Helsinki), Wasel became our bridge between Finnish and American sensibilities. By lunch on Friday I was playing early 20th century American instruments with a Finnish guy dressed up like an American frontier banker, and by late afternoon we were all crammed into a sauna cracking beers with our shaman, tour guide Wasel–mildly surreal.
Turns out Wasel is a really good mando picker, and I loaned him my mandolin on Saturday to play on stage with The Blue Velvet Band–his traditional bluegrass band. I spent the late part of Sunday evening playing Mark’s guitar while Wasel ripped through a bunch of bluegrass standards on my mandolin and Mark, John and Paul whooped it up with the Fins from the re-enactment camp (it takes a village to sell a mandolin).
Wasel arrived at our Monday workshop in Helsinki still in period costume handed me his 1996 Gilchrist Mandolin in exchange for my 2005 Gibson Sam Bush and sat down to participate in the workshop. I am honored to have one of the leading Finnish bluegrass teachers and musicians taking my class, thrilled to play his legendary and incredible mandolin, and floored at how fast the Finns are able to pick up the tunes I am teaching.
As the workshop is breaking up, Wasel lets me know he has decided to buy my Gibson. In the middle of making payment arrangements we find out that both of us lost our fathers and went through stressful legal battles in 2006, the same year that I won the Gibson at a Colorado competition. We took some time to share our experiences, went out to an excellent dinner with Lassi and and Maija from Kansanmusikkiopisto Folk School, and then Wasel maxed out his ATM card and brought two big piles of Euros to my hotel room in exchange for his new instrument–very surreal.
Filed under: DMT in Finland,Finland,Notes from Colby by Colby | June 13, 2009 | Comments (0)
Why Bluegrass
What is it about bluegrass music that drives people in far flung parts of the world to invest in instruments, form clubs and bands, and play and perform the sacred music of the American South together? In this June 2009 Finnish/American cultural exchange designed by Bau Graves, the role of bluegrass in the Finnish music scene was initially a concern for us teachers. The obvious question going in was “are we bluegrass enough for them?” I’m always a little concerned when my co-workers look to me to be the bluegrass authority, but on this trip I was never really worried. As we prepared to leave and put together material for our little band, I got the strong feeling that bluegrass would became a vehicle for communication with the Finns and not just a bad script that none of us could really follow.
Certainly the history and rituals associated with bluegrass are compelling, and after picking with the Finnish people I can say they know their history and seem to be naturals at the reserved, patient, focused group rituals that are necessary to bring bluegrass to life. Like the blues, bluegrass provides the participant and the listener the chance to exercise emotions–from the most personal and specific to the most mystical and general. Half of the bluegrass songbag deals with the perfect, natural state of early, rural America and the other half deals with all the ways we became divorced from that state. It was a thrill to hear my new Finnish friend sing songs like Old Home Place, Lamp Lighting Time In the Valley, or Danville Girl because I knew right away that they understood the emotion that they were communicating. Here is a clip of the Clayhill Brothers singing in church on Sunday morning (right click on the link to listen).
Fortunately the Finnish are way too smart and talented to turn bluegrass into some wooden code of conduct or, worse yet, a secular religion. So, in my next couple posts I will introduce you to some folks we met and explain how we used the elegant rituals of bluegrass to get to know one another. Hopefully these pictures of Paul and John in bathrobes will tide you over until then (jet lag is like a big pajama party).
Filed under: DMT in Finland,Finland,Notes from Colby by Colby | June 11, 2009 | Comments (0)
“The Finnish” or (“The Finnale”)
Monday morning we left for Helsinki. Workshops were set up for fiddle, mandolin banjo and guitar at a Finnish folk music school. The turnout was great we all taught the respective groups the same songs and got together for “2nd half” with everyone knowing the same as everyone else. A beautiful culmination to a week like no other. Tuesday morning Colby, Mark and I packed our bags to head home.
I was honored to be part of this group. I’ve had the pleasure of playing with and knowing Paul, Mark and Colby in some capacity in my 7 years in Chicago. Perhaps I’m stating the obvious but I feel I know and understand and respect each of them much more deeply now.
All of us who work at The Old Town School do so because of a passion for music, a passion to teach, to pass along our experiences that make us each unique but when the daily routines our lives impart upon us it is easy to overlook just how good and passionate and committed our fellow teachers and friends really are. The cultural exchange in and of itself is educational and rewarding butI learned more from listening to and watching my three comrades this past week than I ever thought possible….for that I am grateful.
Thank You
Filed under: DMT in Finland,Finland,Notes from John by John | June 10, 2009 | Comments (0)
Finnish Americana, Part II
As I mentioned in my previous post, Finns are often described as reserved and quiet. But that is only part of the story. They also show a lot of fire and passion. It helps to know the word they use to describe their spirit as a people: sisu. There is no exact English translation for sisu, but the term suggests strength, courage and Finnish soul.
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Ruotsinpyhtaa fire house and an iron works building (click to enlarge)
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Their character was reflected in the music we heard performed by the local bands in Ruotsinpyhtää. In my humble opinion, with a admitted bias for old-time music, the best were the Virtual Reality Boys, a band with two fine fiddlers, Ville and Patrik. Our host Wasku (aka Wasel) played guitar and an English immigrant, John Sheppard played a fine clawhammer style banjo.
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Fiddler Patrik Weckman in 19th century dress (click to enlarge)
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The Clayhill Boys do solid bluegrass, with true singing and clean picking that falls on the reserved side of the Finnish character.
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Matti Lehtola with the Clayhill Boys (click to enlarge)
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The Blue Velvet Band plays and sings with more fire. Wasku’s mandolin picking is much closer to the Bill Monroe sound than anything I’ve been able to generate. Both of these bands were enjoyable to listen to, and we had a good time jamming with all of them.
Wasel ‘Wasku’ Arar with the Blue Velvet Band on the main stage (click to enlarge)
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Wasku also presented a band of Workshoppers, he has been working with for the last couple of years. Don, a techie from Texas and a good singer, played some fine guitar in the Carter Family style, and a young 15-year-old banjo player showed that Scruggs style is thriving here in the Northland.
When we got back to Helsinki on Monday night, we did some Old Town School style classes for a dozen fiddle students, a half dozen mandolinists, and a handful of guitar and banjo pickers. Through the equivalent of two class sessions, we taught each group two old-time tunes from the Songbook, “Waterbound” and “Goin’ Down to Cairo,” plus a fiddle tune I learned from my southern Indiana mentor, Lotus Dickey. We invented a new kind of Second Half by bringing all the students back together to play all three of the songs, first slowly and then more up to tempo.
A Second Half at the Kansanmusiikkiopisto in Helsinki
(right click title and choose ‘save link’ to download file)
For more about the Kansanmusiikkiopisto, check out the resources posted on the Flog (Fiddle Blog)
Filed under: DMT in Finland,Finland,Notes from Paul by Paul | June 9, 2009 | Comments (2)
Finnish Americana, Part I
The Finns are absolutely wonderful people. Many of them speak English well, most understand it better, and all are incredibly patient and helpful during our tortured attempts to communicate. I feel quite dumb, because I speak only one language and know only two Finnish words: kippis and kiitos. I learned the first word years ago as a toast, thinking it meant nothing more than ‘cheers’ or ‘bottoms up.’ It literally translates as ‘keep peace.’ Kiitos means ‘thank you.’ And if you say kiitos to a Finn after he has made the effort to help you in English, his face will light up. The Finns are a peaceful people.
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The Clayhill Boys do a gospel set at the Lutheran Church (click to enlarge)
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We’ve been hanging out with a bunch who are crazy about American old-time, bluegrass and country music. John and Mark have reported on our opening concert in Juha’s photography studio, and the jam session in the bar on our first night at the Ruotsinpyhtää bluegrass festival. I’m sure the others will weigh in with their take on our main stage set at the festival (we were frozen) and our night time set at the bar (there it was much easier to generate heat). We also did a nice impromptu gospel set in the octagonal shaped Lutheran church that dates back to the 1800s. And we participated in one long jam at the old west rendezvous scheduled in conjunction with the festival.
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DMT jams with the Blue Velvet Band outside the “saloon”(click to enlarge)
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The re-enactors, by the way, fed us with food cooked around their campfires. At the “Indian” camp we feasted on beaver (American beaver were introduced in the Baltic region some years ago when it was thought the European beaver was extinct). At the cowboy camp we were fed a kind of rice and bacon jambalaya that cried out for some spicy andouille sausage.
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(click to enlarge)
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But I digress. After eating we played for another couple of hours, then adjourned into the “saloon” where our “western” hosts continued to ply us with strong homemade beer and even stronger shots of other brown liquids. Plus they entertained us with a mock theater troupe and all manner of tomfoolery.
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The Finns are generally described as a reserved and quiet nation. And that is often true in one-on-one encounters. Collectively, however, Finns are full of spunk and passion. They love to have a good time. At the bar on Friday night, I found it remarkable that even though quite a few men were a bit wobbly after several hours of revelry, they handled it by withdrawing into themselves. There were no bellicose scenes observed, no hostilities expressed. Kippis! (Keep peace!)
Filed under: DMT in Finland,Finland,Notes from Paul by Paul | June 9, 2009 | Comments (0)
Can You Tell Me Which Way is North?
Elovena is a kind of instant breakfast cereal. We’ve been calling it “porridge,” which somehow seems appropriate so long as we are in Finland. Elovena is produced by the Hetki Company and only requires some boiling water and one minute of your time. There is a graphic on the box of a lovely Finnish lass in her peasant dress and bonnet, somewhat reminiscent of the St. Pauli Girl, carrying a bundle of wheat and looking out across the table at me. There are some red things in my Elovena, which resemble bits of dehydrated berries, and I have chopped and loaded on the other half of yesterdays banana and a half an apple.
My throat is better today and my sinus has improved. I feel more rested than at any time I can remember over the last month and that is a good thing. The sun is out and it is warmer. We are scheduled to participate in a concert at the church at noon today, and we are scheduled to entertain in the saloon at the Wild West Village later today, also a kind of church, where familiar images of the American West have somehow taken root and been reborn as a hybrid of culture and stereotype that is somewhat peculiar.
It is a beautiful morning in the town where I am though I am still unsure of its name or where it is located. I have devised an impish little game for the purpose of my own entertainment and it goes like this. I will be walking and encounter another passer by. If our eyes meet I wave. If he or she waves back or acknowledges my gesture, I pause and ask, “Excuse me, can you tell me which way is north?” Sometimes the language barrier is too much. One guy tried to give me money. Most other times the guy will stop and look at the sky and then the tree line and point in this direction or that. I have pulled this ruse successfully perhaps a half-dozen times while here in the village whose-name-I-can’t-pronounce, and standing in front of the restaurant across the street from the lagoon I can now point you north in six different directions.
We are making do in our little duplex. On day one I blew the fuse on my adapter trying to recharge camera batteries, and have bungled many attempts at trying to access the internet with some ethernet rig Wasal has lent us for our stay. I have endured two cold showers before figuring out how to turn on the water heater and made a disaster of trying to operate the Mocha Master, a thing they call a coffee maker here in Finland. I have lost three flat picks and broken one string. The battery in my tuner died in the cold while on stage yesterday afternoon, and then after I put in a new one, the whole thing died during our set in the cold during the pub show last night at the restaurant. I wound up giving it to a boy who was perhaps ten years old. I asked him if he could point in the direction that is north. Without hesitation he pointed to the sky, by far the best answer yet, so I figured he deserved a prize.
Filed under: DMT in Finland,Finland,Notes from Mark by Mark | June 8, 2009 | Comments (0)
Gigs and saloons and daylight.
Yesterday was the festival….Finnish bluegrass bands and us. These guys all play great and have been as hospitable as can be.
We did a set at 5pm and then another at midnight. The “Roots in Pyhtaa” Festival is in it’s 22nd year…the same weekend every year and they attract about 300 or so people…including cowboys and indians and bikers (no not the Village People).
The evening sets move from the open field to the back porch of the Ravintola Ruukinmylly..the only bar/restaurant in town.
Music on and on till all hours…beer that never stops flowing…some good Finnish brandy…(no vodka..?) open face sandwiches of salmon and cheese.
We walk everywhere, everything is 2 minutes from where we’re staying..
Along with the music festival there’s an “old west” reenactment campsite (we played the church today and we do the saloon tonight)…a Finnish version of cowboys and indians.
The almost never ending daylight is a bit surreal…at 11pm it’s looking like 8:30pm(CDT), by midnight it’s getting dark and by 2am dawn is tapping you on the shoulder….it beckons you to stay up for just one more.
Filed under: DMT in Finland,Finland,Notes from John by John | June 7, 2009 | Comments (1)
Yesterday I Was Baptized
Yesterday I was baptized. I awoke in the late afternoon with a full blown case of jet lag. My throat was scratchy, my sinuses dry and I had the same feeling of congestion in my chest that precedes something like a flu. There was laughter and music coming from Colby and Paul’s apartment across the foyer. First one mandolin then two together. More laughter. One voice was thick with the speaking style common to these northern regions, the other more familiar. Names were being mentioned and I only recognized a few. Someone unschooled in mandolin nobility is left to measure the magnitude of each name by the reverence with which it is spoken.
Wasal Arar and Colby Maddox were jamming and comparing notes collected from two separate lifetimes spent bent over a mandolin in two completely different parts of the world. And to recognize how much they have found in common with one another is something to behold. Some of the same chops and riffs spill out of their instruments. They share some of the same chord voicings and scales, as well as a number of common musical friendships in the swirling world known only to those who pick at the mandolin. Details like string gauges, action, model numbers beginning with an A or an F were discussed and affirmed. Builders like Gibson and Kentuckian and others I have never heard of were addressed.
I made tea in the kitchen of John’s and mine apartment, enjoying the interaction. It is evident that Wasal loves all kinds of music. He is quick to point out some of the many things old-time music and bluegrass have in common. It is remarkable that Wasal has learned to play so well and has amassed so much knowledge considering the essence of his music is rooted a half a world away. He knows instruments too. He knows how they are built and how they ought to be adjusted. And he can articulate the subtle differences in the sound of one mandolin when compared to the next. I gathered then that Wasal has listened to a great many mandolins.
Now let me tell you something else. Sitting in my kitchen sipping tea, I thought I heard lightning sparking from the strings of Colby Maddox. His playing is at once powerful, subtle and rhythmic. His phrasing dances and struts with bluesy, syncopated vigor. Whoa.
I boiled another cup of tea water and listened to the music a while longer, then joined the two in the other apartment. “I am taking you all to the sauna this afternoon,” said Wasal. The word sauna hung in the air. Sow-nah. I guess you could say Colby and I said nothing, as it suddenly became awful quiet. “You’ll enjoy it,” Wasal went on, “It is something you come to Finland to do. All Finns enjoy their sauna.”
Twenty minutes later, the four of us plus Wasal trudged down the gravel road, towels draped over our shoulders, towards sauna. Sow-nah. Wasal explained some of the health giving effects of this age old Finnish tradition as we walked. He was sensitive to the shyness of his American guests, yet eager for us to take part in the experience. I wondered how many American musicians Wasal has coaxed and coached through their first Finnish sauna over the years. Sow-nah.
At once Wasal stopped in mid-speech. “Wait a minute,” he said, “I forgot something. Keep on walking and I’ll catch up with you.” The four of us kept on towards our sauna. John, who has traveled the world playing music, has enjoyed sauna in several different countries. Paul is generally eager to try new things and although this wouldn’t be his first sauna, he was fully looking forward to it. I’m pretty sure Colby and I said nothing, as it again became awful quiet.
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Ruotsinpyhtaa commuity sauna (click to enlarge)
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Wasal came hustling up the road toting a twelve pack carton of Finnish beer. “We’ll need these in the sauna,” he said.
We entered what Wasal called the dressing room, which is an interesting thing to call it, and we began undressing. “You can take your towel in if you like,” said Wasal. “You are all welcome to do what you are comfortable with. But if you take your towel in it will get wet and you won’t have anything to dry yourself off with.”
As we stood, one of the boys handed me an open bottle of beer. I folded my towel and placed it atop my stack of clothing and we exited the dressing room. Across the hall is the doorway to the sauna. As you enter you step past a container about the size of a small trash can. It is filled with what look to be man-made stones which are somehow heated by the container. Two gents, already sweating and pink welcomed us. We stepped up one at a time and the older of the two scootched around the u-shaped bench to make room. The younger one stayed on the end nearest the container and manned the pail. Periodically he splashed a ladleful of water atop the rocks. The water sizzled and evaporated, filling the sauna with heat and moisture.
A Finnish sauna is rather compact and is hotter than a traffic jam in Louisiana in August. Eighty degrees centigrade is a hundred seventy-six in our part of the world and you feel it immediately. Wasal explained something of the philosophy behind sauna. He spoke something in Finnish to the younger man who immediately splashed two more ladles of water on the stones. The water sizzled again and the heat increased. “There is an art to sauna,” Wasal explained. “You have to do things slowly and when you feel it is time, we will step out back to the river.”
Soon enough the time came. Dripping with sweat, we tiptoed out of the sauna down the short hall and tiptoed out of the doorway which led to the river. There we paused for a spell and I ducked back to the dressing room to deposit my empty bottle. I heard Wasal call, “Watch your step and ease in.” By the time I came back out, John, Colby and Paul were already in the water. “Some people like to dive right in,” Wasal said to me, “but try easing in and see how you like it. You may find it easier to back down the ladder into the water.” I turned around facing Wasal and backed down the ladder.
The water was cold but not icy. Steam was coming off my arms and off of Wasal’s shoulders. “Watch your step he said, the ladder is slippery.” I was in about as far as my knees and looked down to make certain my feet were steady on the ladder. I felt Wasal’s hand atop my head. He mumbled, “I hearby baptize you into the river of sauna,” and he pushed. I pushed off the ladder with my legs and fell back laughing into the chilly water. Wasal stepped down the ladder and joined us. “Don’t be in a hurry to get out of the water,” he said. “You’ll know when it’s time.”
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The Kymi River (click to enlarge)
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One carries the heat of the sauna into the river with them. And the heat of the sauna remains when one climbs back up the ladder and out of the water. Colby and John fetched another round of bottles from the dressing room and there we stood, talking and drinking, watching dusk and stillness settle on the lagoon. A seagull screeched from her perch on a rock while her still fuzzy babies paddled in the water below.
Finnish sauna is refreshing, just as Wasal promised, and invigorating. The shyness of disrobing in public is only temporary. Sauna in Finland is as commonplace as cell phones are in Lincoln Square, and one falls into the custom quite naturally. I have felt more naked on countless other occasions while facing an audience fully clothed with guitar in hand and a good set list to boot. Sow-nah.
Colby began to shiver and I began to shiver. The process of heating up in the sauna and cooling off in the river can be repeated as many times as one prefers. Wasal recommended three, so three it was. Paul and Colby stayed for a fourth, while John and I showered, dressed and headed over to the restaurant for dinner. The room was crowded and by the time we arrived, a bluegrass jam had already assembled in the corner. We took the small table by the door and ordered, astonished to find out it was nine thirty. We had spent more than two and a half hours in the sauna.
6 06 09
Filed under: DMT in Finland,Finland,Notes from Mark by Mark | June 7, 2009 | Comments (1)
A Finnish Update
Thursday June 4th 2009
Flew through the non existent night and after transferring in Stockholm finally arrived in Helsinki around 11 am local time.
Hano met us at the airport and we cabbed it to the gallery where we have tonights gig. Our host Juha is tremendous..plying us with coffee and Finnish brandy.
We finally got about 2 hrs of sleep in the venue this afternoon, woke up rehearsed a bit had some more coffee and brandy and in about 30min the show will begin.
A summation of the day to come later:
A beautiful gig…2 sets, about 40 people attending…the transformation from photography studio to concert hall was amazing.
After the gig we packed our bags and took a long taxi ride to Ruotsinpyhtaa and some sleep.
We were met at our hotel ( a 2 unit bed and breakfast) by Wasel Arar. He seems almost singlehandedly responsible for the Bluegrass scene in Finland…a fine banjo player, guitarist and singer.
Friday June 5
We all finally got a good nights sleep. The town we’re in is tiny (even by Finnish standards) and gorgeous and right on a lake.
After a casual day Wasel took us to have a Fin style sauna….sweating in 90 degree C then jumping into the ice cold lake…back to the heat…back to the lake…and repeat….aahhh.
Immediately after we were at the only bar/restaurant in town for an all night jam session.
So many great players here, totally entrenched in the Old Time and Bluegrass syles.
We all had a blast playing song after song with about 10 other musicians…Colby and Paul were especially on fire.
More to follow soon.
JA
Filed under: DMT in Finland,Finland,Notes from John by John | June 6, 2009 | Comments (0)
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