I was eating at La Carreta this past Friday night reading ‘Grave Matters’ and the night was just about to take over when the headlights from “Metal” the green 72 Dodge Charger rolled freely into the parking lot right outside the window. A yellow blast and the rumble of this machine was about to change my plans for the evening.
The spirit that moves with this relic of independence is burning gas tonight and over a cold lager we decided a road trip around the town might be enough to leave our troubles for a bit longer and see what was coming out on this Friday night in the middle of summer.
The seatbelts are strong inside the hollowed interior of this beast and the smell of gas and rattle of the sheet metal may be worn, but never to be underestimated. There’s a vicious heart beneath this car and passing import autos and shiny SUVs with tinted windows and wreckless regard, the Charger knows how to crash a party.
Tommy Thai’s is Kingsport’s new Thai hangout and I’ve played there a couple of times and the green monster has never rumbled into this venue. The BMWs turned their heads when it finally came to a stop with a scowl.
Doug Habenna was standing outside smoking a cigarette in the night air and sporting his signature converse tennis shows. Doug is on a hiatus with Goose Creek Symphony and has found a favorite hangout. Tonight he was playing bass with Bluesman.
We talked a few minutes about the local gigs and Reagan and he is doing well and looking better than ever. His zen-like buddha style is intriguing and it was good to know we were among friends.
I’d never heard Bluesman before, but it wasn’t hard to spot him. He had a Steve Rau Vaughn leather cap on and knew the ferryman. The other guys were completely strangers, but the cat on the keys had my attention as soon as I nestled into the bar.
Sarah was on deck tonight and her smile is enough to peel the paint off any old soul, but I couldn’t help but be attracted by the noodling of a guy that looked like Schroeder with thin hair, glasses and leaning into the keyboard like it was another space. His jazz lines were spacy and evocative and although noone else noticed, it was a nice greeting for me.
Bluesman is a good player and good singer too. They play interesting blues songs, but I enjoyed watching Doug the most. Everytime I’ve played with him or heard him perform, he’s given 110%. He enjoys his work, his sound, his rig and his backup vocals shine like a pro. Amy says it’s a natural extension and there’s no doubt.
Amy came in a little later during the set and as we talked one of the bartenders offered me and my guide an unusual elixer called a Zipang. Evidently it’s a sake spritizer. I’ve never had sake before, but the taste of vinegar is usually reserved for lesser wines, but it was nice to share a drink together.
After the band finished their set, I talked with Richard Swallow. He was hanging out in the shadows and I thanked him for the vibes. He really is a great piano player from Virginia Beach (now Abingdon) and he explained. “I just now started getting back out playing. I raised a family and worked in a factory and put it down for a while, but I’m having a lot of fun.”
I was surpised by the sound of the Yamaha Motif he was playing. It had great organ sounds and the Fender rhodes tones were cool too. He sat down and showed me a few things and I especially enjoyed his old Steely Dan riffs which were effortless for him. I could have listened to an hour of him by himself and I can tell why Doug enjoys playing with him.
After the set break, we throttled up the green machine and headed back toward the hangar and drove by Rush Street. Not much happening there. The parking lot was half-full and we could see the drummer staring into the window as the reflection of green justice drove right back on to the street.
It was a quiet night. Over the crest of Fort Henry, we rumbled into The Woodstone.
I’ll try to keep this tasteful. Many of you probably would never find yourself in the Woodstone after midnight and although it’s not the most imposing room in Northeast Tennessee, you might need to watch the ones that look sick because it’s a long way to the bathroom and the mad dash of the guy on the front row scared me for a moment.
Mindset was on stage. They are a new rock/metal band and they had a pretty good showing of their fans in the room tonight. It was muggy and hot, the kind of hot that doesn’t make you sweet, but it does make you want a shower. Luckily the cold beer was enough to keep me comfortable long enough to take in the band and the environment.
The Woodstone has a good spot for a stage and they have a fair amount of entertainment, but it’s highly unpredictible. I was suprised to see them open because some nights the lights are out at 10pm.
Mindset was playing plenty of metal cover tunes including Nickelback and an old Black Sabboth song, but for the most part, I was lost in the mood. There are two brothers in the band and one plays a sharp and devisive rock guitar. His brother on the sound board was completely aware of every lead and missed no note as he turned the levels on the console at just the right time.
Their family and friends seemed to enjoy themselves, but my time was just about up for the ride with the green metal guide.
A lot of family and friends were sleeping away in their cottages and the moon was laying low and golden as we crossed the Holston. It reflected upon the water like glass and the car…like zink.
The mood was quiet and there was new concerns for my friend tonight as we shared new secrets before going our seperate ways into the morning and the birds were singing in their sleep.