BLUES JUNCTION Productions
7343 El Camino Real
Suite 327
Atascadero, CA 93422-4697
info
I was attending a blues festival hundreds of miles away from my home when a young woman walked up to me and said, “Thank you for supporting live local music.” She then handed me a button that said, ‘Support Live Local Music!’ That’s right a button with a message and an exclamation point.
I told the woman that I’m not really supporting local music today. She gave me this puzzled look and I explained that, “I’m not from around here. Therefore, I’m not local.” I told her where I hail from and she said, “Oh my, that is a long ways from here.” I said, “Yes it is, would you like your button back?” I told her, “It is lovely button, but despite its beauty, I don’t wear buttons.”
Now she was completely baffled and the conversation turned into a lengthy, esoteric explanation on why I don’t wear buttons. Believe me, this isn’t anything I’m going to bore you with today. She said that she would like me to have it and that I should give it to one of my button wearing friends. I thanked her and she kind of slumped away probably thinking that giving away buttons with messages with exclamation points to old guys at blues festivals might be more difficult than she realized. She must have been thinking, ‘Oh why, oh why didn’t I volunteer to work one of the micro-brew tasting booths?’
As for me, I just kept pricking my fingers on the sharp metal pin every time I reached into my pocket. I took this intermittent small shooting pain as an omen and a sign from this accidental muse to think about live local music.
First, I don’t think society in general thinks very highly of locals. They are often referred to as a “local yokels.” That doesn’t sound very nice. In many communities everyone is local, which is to say that they were born and raised right where they continue to plant their flag. How quaint and charming.
Other communities, including the one in which I reside, are made up of people from all over. Many decided that being a local yokel was just more than they were prepared to bear, so they moved to Huntington Beach, California.
Huntington Beach has its local yokels as well, however they are called “Old Surfer Dudes.” They lament the civic improvements, gentrification, revitalized downtown and of course the demise of the famous Golden Bear concert venue on Pacific Coast Highway right across the street from the iconic Huntington Beach pier.
As far as live music is concerned, this is not something the city of Huntington Beach is really keen on, as they never have been particularly supportive of live music, local or otherwise. Maybe they need a button. Of all the shabby rundown buildings that could have been condemned for any number of reasons, such as general principles, it was the Golden Bear nightclub, a live music venue, that was cited for not being up to code as it relates to earthquake safety standards. They closed their doors for good thirty years ago.
By my way of thinking, if I’m going to die in a massive earthquake, which is always a possibility, it might as well be while listening to Lightnin’ Hopkins, B.B. King, John Lee Hooker, Sonny Terry, Brownie McGhee, Ike Turner or any number of national touring bands who graced the stage of the Golden Bear through the years. These guys are of course long gone and, for the record, none of them perished in a massive earthquake.
Would I risk my life for a local? That’s a good question. If I’m going to die in an earthquake in a crowded nightclub you can bet it is enjoying the music of a damn good band. They could, but might not likely be local.
‘Wait just a minute BLUES JUNCTION man...you live in Orange County, right? Wasn’t that the home of the late great Lynwood Slim? Didn’t James Harman live there for years? Don’t Kim Wilson, Al Blake, Junior Watson and Kid Ramos still live in Orange County as well....right?’
Yes, this is all true. However these musicians are all considered “nationals” perhaps more appropriately they should be called “internationals.” Everyone has got to be from somewhere and Orange County, and of course the greater Los Angeles area, has an enormous population base so we have more local yokels than just about anywhere. I’m pretty sure we are going to need more buttons.
At this stage of the game the blues is like anything else. Southern California has more people therefore it has more doctors, lawyers, police officers and criminals. We have more teachers and more students. We have more truck drivers, phsycotherapists and hookers. More Olympic athletes and professional baseball players come from here as well. We also have more car salesmen, preachers, and politicians. We have more of everything and it would stand to reason we have more blues bands as well.
That’s a lot of local to support.
Wouldn’t supporting traveling blues bands from far off locales be something worthy of a button? These bands have to get here, find a place to stay, find the right freeway off ramp and the right Mexican restaurant. That can’t be easy. No, we are told that supporting local musicians is more magnanimous. Remember, I have a button to prove it. Can’t argue with a button...I’ve yet to see a button that says. ‘Support Music That Comes From Other Places!’
It becomes almost an expected obligation of the local yokels to propel any band that is produced from the firmament to greater heights of stardom. In the blues world this is where the IBCs come into play and other regional battle of the bands competitions. This all seems kind of cute, but unsavory all at the same time.
I got an email once from a rather overbearing pianist and an even worse singer who still fronts a real popular band in Houston that bears his stage name. He told me that a writer from one of the daily newspapers in that city wrote a negative review of one of his concerts and wrote a rather negative assessment of his entire career. We got on the phone and had an interesting chat. He told me in no uncertain terms that this kept him a local artist and out of the limelight of New York and Los Angeles. His career stalled in Houston as a result. This feature ran over 25 years ago and this musician still harbors bad feelings for the late great Bob Claypool who wrote the piece.
According to this musician, journalists are to eschew any sense of integrity and become cheerleaders for locals regardless of the merit of their music. As he told me, “That’s their job.” Maybe Bob Claypool could have used a button. He struck me as not much of a button wearing kind of guy, so maybe that wouldn’t have worked anyway. So this, not so poor musician, remains stuck in the mud of Houston and far outside the bright light of international stardom. Trust me...Bob Claypool should receive a posthumous Pulitzer Prize for his writing, regardless of what this egomaniac thinks. It is not the job of journalists to be defacto unpaid publicists for anybody, regardless of where the musician resides in relation to the home of that writer.
If folks in any community feel responsible to support live local music, and of course without batting an eye they will tell you that they do, then they sure have a funny way of manifesting that support. They often flock to clubs where there isn’t a cover charge, order a soft drink or iced tea and avoid the tip jar when it comes around. These people are always the first to congratulate themselves for helping to support live local music. You can see their pictures on Facebook clowning around at these local shows. ‘Check me out; I am supporting live local music and guess what? An evening’s worth of entertainment cost me almost nothing.’
Then the bar, club or restaurant owner who decided to take a chance on music that he really doesn’t appreciate to any great degree drops his Weekly Blues Spotlight. He was thinking that by booking blues he would attract a more mature audience. Sorry pal, you haven’t attracted a more mature audience. You have simply attracted an older audience that doesn’t spend any money.
A movie ticket doesn’t cost fifty cents anymore and a field level seat at a Major League Baseball game isn’t four dollars either. The cost of these entertainment options has gone up several hundred percent.
The only thing that hasn’t gone up is the cost of getting into a blues show. Cover charges have remained the same and in many cases have actually been reduced or abandoned all together. Do the people who are somehow offended by paying a cover charge have any idea where that money goes? Do they care? It goes to the musicians. It goes directly into the pockets of the people who make our lives bearable. To be more precise, those cover charges go to the best musicians. They deserve our financial support. Let me also let you in on a little secret. They may not be local.
Over the past 50 years or so everything in American life costs more. Gas is no longer twenty seven cents a gallon. A six pack of Budweiser isn’t a buck sixty five anymore and Lord knows how much a pack of smokes costs these days. You can’t get a cup of coffee for a nickel either. Nobody understands these facts more than the traveling professional blues musician.
When a real legitimate blues band comes rolling through town with a white panel van or an SUV full of chops, the so called blues fans disappear as they are off “supporting live local music.” Often the smallest cover charge will keep these people from experiencing some great music from a far off land. If this keeps up, the traveling blues musician will just have to stay home and become local yokels. Now this would be a tragedy for which there are no buttons.
- David Mac
Copyright 2022 BLUES JUNCTION Productions. All rights reserved.
BLUES JUNCTION Productions
7343 El Camino Real
Suite 327
Atascadero, CA 93422-4697
info