Priority Gal: A World War II Story

I was born in 1952, during Korea, but too late for World War II.  Still, it’s stories about the Greatest Generation that get to me, because both my father and grandfather were in that war, and for once it isn’t all hype (as it can be for sports figures). Some of these men and women really were heroes. I watch a lot of reruns of Combat! starring Vic Morrow, a show that was on when I was young and impressionable.

Priority Gal

“Priority Gal” and her crew. (Air Force photo)

And then there are World War II books. I came to The Final Mission: A Boy, a Pilot and a World at War (Westholme) by Elizabeth Hoban and (her father) Lt. Col. Henry Supchak via a circuitous route.

final mission

The Final Mission tells–very well–an untold story of World War II heroism.

Jim Allyn, a wizard of a multi-instrumentalist and producer, recently appeared on my WPKN radio show. I knew Jim’s wonderful work on mandolin and other instruments from the first few Terence Martin albums. He has just completed his first album, Backyards of the Brave, and I was immediately taken by the song “Priority Gal.”


It’s a true World War II story. Allyn’s wife’s uncle, Henry Supchak, was a B-17 Flying Fortress bomber pilot in the European theater of operations. He flew “Priority Gal supported by a crew of eight. He was on his 33rd combat mission, about to be sent Stateside, when on July 31, 1944, his plane was shot up over Neustift, Austria.


The B-17 Flying Fortress, seen here with her bomb bay doors open, was a fearsome weapon of war. It carried a crew of nine. After 60 years, Supchak finally flew one again–and kept it to an arrow-straight course. ((American Air Museum)

With no hope of reaching neutral Switzerland, and shrapnel embedded in his right knee, Supchak ordered his crew to bail out. “I was alone in a crippled bomber with no hope of reaching England,” Supchak writes in the book.

“I released myself from the seat and glanced up through the caustic fumes enveloping the cockpit. “Priority Gal” was headed straight toward a village at the base of the Alps. Her current course would wipe out most of the town and its residents.”

It didn’t matter that this was enemy territory. The village was full of non-combatants—civilians, women and children.

“Instinctively,” Supchak and Hoban wrote, “I jumped back in the seat and readjusted the controls to a maximum leftward flight pat and flipped the wing trim tabs. Forcing the extreme turn was not an easy task and it took some muscle and no room to spare to get my ‘Gal’ to make a 90-degree turn. Her riveted metal seams groaned in protest to the drastic maneuver, but she cooperated and veered clear of the village.”

Henry Supchak

Henry Supchak at the controls of “Priority Gal.” (courtesy of Elizabeth Hoban)

Supchak bailed out, and landed in an Alpine knoll, where he was quickly arrested. His dramatic change of course had been witnessed on the ground by a six-year-old shepherd boy, Ander Haas. Even at that age, he recognized that this airman had saved their village, Neustift. He and his aunt made their way to the German outpost where Supchak was held, distracted the guards, and slipped food to the prisoner over the course of several days. He might have starved to death otherwise.

Miraculously, the whole crew of “Priority Gal” survived the jump, and all were in prison camps until the end of the war. Supchak suppressed the bad memories of the prison camp after the war, but repeated bad dreams eventually convinced him he needed closure. Supchak lived a very long life that included 20 years of service as a process engineer at the Ford Motor Company, and he eventually went on the road and looked up all the surviving members of his crew. Only one died before that reconciliation could occur.

supchak and hoban

Elizabeth Hoban and Henry Supchak in later years. (courtesy of Elizabeth Hoban)

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Atlantic, Ander Haas—by now a successful developer of Alpine resorts—hadn’t forgotten about the airman who saved his village. He erected memorials to “Priority Gal,” and dug up parts of the buried plane. And when Supchak was 91 years old he went back to Neustift for dedication ceremonies. It’s all in the beautifully written book. I read it (in China!) and recommend it highly.

Jim Allyn and I talked about all this on the radio show. He was particularly taken by the fact that Haas’ bar has a drink—a strong one—called the Henry Supchak. So here’s a video of the song, and the lyrics are below. Supchak is no longer with us, but what he did will live on forever.

“Priority Gal” by Jim Allyn (used by permission)

Twas in the year of ‘44, the last day of July/Twenty thousand feet and falling/over German countryside/the plane they call Priority Gal was spinning in dive/and out jumped eight brave souls/as one remained at the controls

Here’s to all we knew so well/the Bride of Mars, the Memphis Belle/Jack the Ripper, Old Maxine/Careful Virgin, Sweet Seventeen/and to you old friends and pals/and the man who flew Priority Gal

There’s a little town in Austria/where they drink all night long/and there’s one they make called the Henry S./and they make it good and strong/for long ago, as that plane dove/‘twas Henry at the wheel/spinning as he gripped it tight/somehow he set those wings aright/five hundred feet above the ground/with one last turn he spared that town/he spared that town

Here’s to all we knew so well/the Bride of Mars, the Memphis Belle/Jack the Ripper, Old Maxine/Careful Virgin, Sweet Seventeen/Lady Luck, the Nine-O-Nine/Desperate Journey/Bachelor’s Bride/Just Plane Lonesome, Red Wing, Nightmare/Anxious Angel, My Baby/My Prayer/and to you old friends and pals/and the man who flew Priority Gal

Taking Chances: The Brooklyn Folk Festival 2019

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK—The 11th annual Brooklyn Folk Festival, in its long-time home of St. Ann’s Church in Brooklyn Heights, is about the agony and the ecstasy. The agony of sitting in hard, upright church pews for days at a time, and the ecstasy of a sublimely curated festival of folk music (using the most creative interpretation of that genre) for three whole days.

 Ozark Highballers

The Big Dixie Swingers brought their energy with them. (Jim Motavalli photo)

We walked in Friday evening as Tenares de Alelerúe was just starting. It’s a vocal quartet that sounds like a cross between barbershop music and shape note singing. They gathered in close to sing, holding each other’s shoulders. Has Joe Biden heard about this?

Little Nora Brown

Little Nora Brown is gaining control of that foghorn voice, and adding stage presence, too. (Jim Motavalli photo)

The repertoire was Sardinian and Corsican, and I thought that’s where these folks came from, but when the talked, lo and behold, Americans. What kind of Americans, bred on Top 40, decides to take on ancient European vocal traditions? Well, welcome to the Brooklyn Folk Festival, where this kind of dedication is commonplace.

Jerron "Blind Boy" Paxton

Jerron “Blind Boy” Paxton was a wunderkind on every instrument he picked up. (Jim Motavalli photo)

Up next was Jake Xerxes Fussell, whose Columbus, Georgia songs I’ve played on my WPKN show. “Did you ever see peaches growing on a sweet potato vine?” he asks. Fussell is getting known; he has a strong tenor voice and an even stronger guitar style. Some of his songs are a bit odd at first, but would probably wear like old boots. “Jump for Joy”; I want to hear that one again. He played a song he described as coming from Duke Ellington, but it sounded like 60s singer-songwriter.

The Downhill Strugglers

The Downhill Strugglers: Brooklyn’s house band. (Jim Motavalli photo)

Jackson [Lynch] and the Janks play R&B from New Orleans, where Lynch is now resident. Unusual instrumentation: steel guitar, sax and drums. Lynch is a master fiddle player, guitarist and folklorist; I like him better solo or with the Downhill Strugglers (featuring curator Eli Smith and John Cohen of the New Lost City Ramblers).

Frank Fairfield and Meredith Axelrod

Frank Fairfield and Meredith Axelrod. Fairfield seemed to be having a bad day. (Jim Motavalli photo)

The Big Dixie Swingers, also from the Big Easy, were my hit of the day. “Western swing, that’s mostly what we do,” said fiddler/vocalist Aaron Bushnell Gunn, but there’s a really big dose of New Orleans jazz in there too, thanks to Aaron Olwell’s clarinets and Nathan Wolman’s heavily Louis Armstrong-inspired trumpet. They swung like a gate. They also have a gem in vocalist/banjoist Elizabeth Gunn Bushnell, who conjures the crackly vocals off an old 78. Ruth Etting, maybe? Points for repertoire, too, with tunes like “On a Chinese Honeymoon.” Sample lyric: “We will live on love and kisses/On our Chinese honeymoon.”

Jontavious Willis

Jontavious Willis is still in college, but already a strong performer. (Jim Motavalli photo)

Jontavious Willis is still in college, but showed enormous promise as a young bluesman, particularly in his stellar harp and “talking” guitar playing.

The Old Plantation.

The Old Plantation. See the granddaddy of the banjo? (Jim Motavalli photo)

At this point I took a break from a music and walked up the winding stairs to the workshop room, where a lecture on the origins of the banjo was in progress. Scholars Pete Ross and Kristina Gaddy were knowledgeable and funny. The earliest banjos we know about were found with slaves in the 18th and 19th century Caribbean. They are seen in old paintings of revels at the slave quarters, and were made from a wooden stock stuck in to a sliced-open gourd (often with a sheepskin or hide covering)

Baby Gramps

Under that beard somewhere is Baby Gramps. (Jim Motavalli photo)

They’ve found them in Surinam, Haiti, Barbados, Madera, Jamaica, and in the U.S. too. A song—played during the workshop—was transcribed around 1687 by a visiting European from “the best musician there.” Was it called “Strum Stomp”? By 1736, there were references to slave instruments called “bangers” in New York (and from Congo Square in New Orleans, circa 1819). One definitive reference point is a 1792 painting called “Old Plantation,” with a banger and drummers and women waving scarves (also seen in Caribbean depictions).

Jim Kweskin

Jim Kweskin, with music unaffected by the passage of time. (Jim Motavalli photo)

Brotherhood of the Jug Band Blues reminds me of a group that might have been seen in Washington Square around 1969. A visit to the Square didn’t turn up much music now, though somebody had mysteriously left record albums (Lionel Ritchie, anyone?) strewn about the benches. The vocals of Samoa Wilson, sometimes heard with jug band pioneer Jim Kweskin, were a highlight.

Nat Polly was one of the musicians brought from eastern Kentucky by the Appalshop group of folklorists. He wasn’t stuck in the past—he did a song about the opioid crisis. “That song moved in next door to me,” he said. Also strikingly contemporary were the Local Honeys, two Appal Shop women with clear voices and a strong political conscience. Fiddler Linda Jean Stokley’s song about the coal mining czars was biting, specific and on-target.


Kids singalong at the Fest. (Jim Motavalli photo_

I’ve written so much about the Mammals I won’t go into detail here. I usually see them upstate at their Summer Hoot. But they met in the city, and it was particularly appropriate that they did their Woody Guthrie-lyrics New York subway song in Brooklyn. (Guthrie lived out on Mermaid Avenue.) Mike Merenda wore a shirt celebrating Greta Ernman Thunberg, the young climate activist, and then performed “Sunshiner” (his renewable energy song). Ruth Unger’s interpretation of an Etta James song reaffirmed what a great vocalist she is.

Little Nora Brown (just 13) is getting better and better, and is developing both stage presence and vocal command. Opening with a Shaker song, she calmly informed us that it had just been recorded for a Shaker tribute that also features Yo Yo Ma. She was joined by Anna Roberts-Gevalt of Anna and Elizabeth, and at one point played a banjo that had been used by Roscoe Holcomb in New York.

The Lovestruck Balladeers

The Lovestruck Balladeers were awe-inspiring on every level, with a ragtime repertoire. (Jim Motavalli photo)

The Ozark Highballers do a wonderful job of keeping alive the music in and around their Ozarks hometown of Fayetteville, Arkansas. They’re an old-time string band with a great respect for the tradition, and have a new album out on Jalopy Records (the Jalopy Theatre in Red Hook is the parent organization of the festival.) The Highballers have a wonderful asset in the vocals of guitarist Aviva Steigmeyer, but don’t avail themselves of it enough—she sang lead on only one song.

The absolute high point of the festival for me was a set by the recently formed Lovestruck Balladeers. It’s a supergroup of sorts, with stars from a variety of ensembles. Everyone is a multi-instrumentalist, and the repertoire is ragtime and early jazz.

I saw the amazing fiddle playing of Aaron Jonah-Lewis last summer on tour with Roochie Tootchie and the Ragtime Shepherd Kings, and he’s even more amazing with the Balladeers. Dennis Lichtman, also a monster on mandolin and fiddle, is most often seen with a clarinet (and also plays in The Brain Cloud, regulars at Barbes). Pianist Dalton Ridenhour knows his Scott Joplin; guitarist Jake Sanders has Django licks and more, and Sean Cronin had the audience in awe on bass. At one point, the whole front line was on mandolins.

Meredith Axelrod and Frank Fairfield were having an off night. Something was clearly bugging Fairfield, and his incessant tuning prompted Axelrod to quip, “Tuning is important. It’s more important than having a good show.” When they did play, they were great, especially an antique tune called “On the Brandywine” that was in the original Wizard of Oz stage play, circa 1905.

Jerron “Blind Boy” Paxton was captivating on a bunch of instruments, including fiddle, guitar, harp and more. He’s not bad on piano, either. He started one tune, then noticed that the audience’s hand clapping was out of sync. “It’s a waltz,” he said. “The African-American contingent of the audience is now up to at least half a dozen, and they should be the ones to set the tempos.”

Paxton was joined later by Jonah-Lewis and Fairfield for two trio dazzlers.

I wish I was more awake for Kashiah Hunter and friends. Sacred steel is amazing live, and there were two players on the instrument—one Hunter’s uncle. In full cry it always reminds me—for some reason—of the Allman Brothers. If they were spiritual, of course.

Tamar Korn

Tamar Korn was made to front a tight jazz/swing band like The Brain Cloud. (Jim Motavalli photo)

The Brain Cloud, featuring Lichtman and the vivacious vocalist Tamar Korn were still cranking when we left for the night. There’s only so much bench time one’s nether quarters can take, and we were worried about the subways still running. Lichtman is the best kind of historian, and he told a long and fascinating tale about “My Window Faces the South” being first recorded by Fats Waller in 1937. Now it’s a country swing classic and sounds positively corn-fed.

On Sunday, events started with a kids’ singalong of Pete Seeger material sponsored by Smithsonian Folkways. Seeger would be 100 now, and his legacy is large. The kids seemed happy enough singing “This Land is Your Land” with Emily Eager and Chris Q. Murphy.

It was just as Pete would have done it, but surely an update with some new songs is permitted. The kids would become an issue later when their running around and yelling got in the way of the quieter performances. Host Eli Smith handled it properly, telling the parents that they were loved dearly, but the kids had to be corralled.

Jim Kweskin, who’s 79, is still singing and playing at the top of his game. Kind of amazing. He even looks good. A set from him is like hearing music in your own living room. On his own, instead of with his trademark jug band you get a musician strongly influenced by Mississippi John Hurt, which isn’t a bad thing. He did Uncle Dave Macon’s “Wreck of the Tennessee Gravy Train,” gave “Eight More Miles to Louisville” another go-round and sang a hilarious song about the life of a guitar player—to the tune of “Swinging on a Star.” Inspirational wisdom: “My buddy Geoff Muldaur likes to say we play for old people—and their parents.”

John Harrod

John Harrod and friends. Don’t let the baseball cap fool you. (Jim Motavalli photo)

John Harrod, a Kentucky fiddler, sounded great and did a set that was strongly regional in flavor. One song was from a guy who had to be gotten out of jail to record it. But don’t let the baseball cap fool you—Harrod went to Oxford, and his accompanist wife to Vassar. Harrod made a strong pitch for his state’s music, Appalshop, and the Cowan Creek Mountain Music School (held the last full week in June). Indeed, many of the performers on Sunday had attended it.

The Downhill Strugglers were in rude good health, with Jackson Lynch in particularly fine form on fiddle and songs like “That’s All Right.” Eli Smith played a delicate banjo tune, “The Wild Goose Chase,” that was perfect for Sunday in church.

I’d describe the much-anticipated film The Ballad of Shirley Collins, about the British balladeer who accompanied Alan Lomax on his southern adventures, but the video player didn’t work. Oh well.

Ian Felice of the Felice Brothers looked like he just rolled out of bed, and his songs were in that same spirit. They were more like random journal entries than actual songs. For his information, Fred Neil did not write “Shake Sugaree”; Elizabeth Cotton did.

Molsky, Trischka and Daves

The dynamic trio of Molsky, Trischka and Daves. (Jim Motavalli photo)

I can’t say too much about the uniting of Bruce Molsky, Michael Daves and Tony Trischka. As Trischka pointed out, they have busy schedules and don’t get together all that often. But when they do, sparks fly. All three are giants in old-time (and progressive) circles, and they played at blistering tempos when they weren’t making you cry with ballads like “The Blackest Crow.” The breakneck finale, a workout on something called “I Get My Whiskey from Rockingham,” was just awe-inspiring. Here’s video (but not of that song!):

Anna Roberts-Gevalt, half of Anna and Elizabeth, appeared earlier accompanying several of the acts (including John Harrod and Little Nora Brown), and was totally well-behaved. But her own set on Sunday night was the most avant-garde folk performance I’ve ever seen. One song was accompanied by the amplified sound of her washing her hands in a basin. In duet with Robbie Lee, she played the viola and he the alto sax, and they walked towards each other from corners of the church. It was dramatic, to say the least.

Anna Roberts-Gevalt

Anna Roberts-Gevalt reinvents folk music. (Jim Motavalli photo)

Other songs had her wailing like Yoko Ono, deconstructing the standard “Careless Love,” and radically re-interpreting the purpose of the banjo. Bravo for taking chances. The same should be said of the Brooklyn Folk Festival. Long may it wave.

The 11th Brooklyn Folk Festival is Here!

BROOKLYN, NY—This year’s Brooklyn Folk Festival, the 11th, offers one of its best lineups ever, strong this year on Southern folk and country or, if you prefer, Americana. The musical trees and their offshoots, presented by Red Hook’s famed Jalopy Theatre, grow in Brooklyn April 5-7 at St. Ann’s Church, 157 Montague Street.

jackson lynch

Jackson Lynch, an MVP at the Brooklyn show, playing old-time country and New Orleans R&B.

Eli Smith, both the curator and the main announcer, said that string bands from Georgia and Kentucky will be featured this year. There will be three bands, a pair of films, a workshop and square dance presented by Appalshop, the nonprofit folk arts aggregation based in Whitesburg, Kentucky. And, as always, they’ll be plenty of blues and gospel. As well as a slightly smaller dose of music from New York’s immigrant diaspora, though there’s Tenores de Aterúe (a Sardinian vocal quartet), La Cumbiamba NY (playing music from Colombia) and Ukrainian Village Voices.

One of the Appalshop films is Catfish Man of the Woods, about a fifth-generation herb doctor living near Glenwood, West Virginia. Speaking of films, I’m looking forward to seeing the documentary about British folk singer Shirley Collins’ Southern adventures with folklorist Alan Lomax in the late 1950s.

jerron paxton

Jerron “Blind Boy” Paxton dazzles on just about any instrument. (Jim Motavalli photo)

As usual, a lot of the music is new to me, but it all looks intriguing. The Ozark Highballers and the Dixie Swingers? I’m there. “A good part of my job is knowing what’s happening and bringing it either to the Jalopy or to the festival,” Smith said. “I hear music on the road with my band [The Downhill Strugglers] and via word of mouth,” he said.

The Brooklyn event seemed packed to me last year, and the fact that it’s a younger crowd is encouraging. Is it growing? “It can only grow so much if we’re going to stay at the 800-seat St. Ann’s which we definitely want to do,” Smith said. That said, the audience turns over quite a bit during the weekend, and there’s lots of room (f instance) Sunday afternoon and evening. I’ve done the whole thing several times in the last few years, and there’s never a flat spot—or sets you’ll be glad you missed.

little nora brown

Little Nora Brown will be back, 365 days older. (Jim Motavalli photo)

Groups I do know about and am looking forward to seeing include: Jake Xerxes Fussell (Friday evening), Jackson and the Janks (Friday evening, featuring the versatile Jackson Lynch), The Mammals (Saturday afternoon; their Summer Hoot is also strongly recommended), Little Nora Brown (Saturday afternoon), the workshop on the early African-American history of the banjo (Saturday afternoon), a panel on the impact of the late folk impresario Izzy Young (Saturday afternoon), Frank Fairfield and Meredith Axelrod (Saturday night), The Brain Cloud with Tamar Korn (Saturday night), Jerron “Blind Boy” Paxton (Saturday night), Jim Kweskin (Sunday afternoon), the Downhill Strugglers (Sunday afternoon), the trio of Bruce Molsky, Tony Trischka and Michael Daves (Sunday night) and Anna rg of Anna and Elizabeth (Sunday night).

brooklyn 2019

A great festival find: Meredith Axelrod, appearing with Frank Fairfield. Don’t think the 40s, think the 20s and 10s. (Jim Motavalli photo)

The church pews are kind of hard, but you’ll get wrapped up in the music and won’t notice it. There’s good food on the premises, restaurants a-plenty just outside the door, and the opportunity to buy records from Jalopy’s own label. I recommend the albums by Jerron Paxton, Tamar Korn and Mamie Minch, the Downhill Strugglers, Jackson Lynch, and the Whiskey Spitters.

The Downhill Strugglers

The Downhill Strugglers take old-time into the city–as the New Lost City Ramblers did. (Jim Motavalli photo)

I asked Smith why he’s so successful at attracting young audiences. A graying crowd is a big issue at other events. “We have young bands, and they have young followers,” he said. Makes sense. Smith said the event is holding its own, but “on a shoestring every year. It would be nice if we didn’t have financial problems.” All the more reason for you to get your can down to Brooklyn.

Smith is working on an oral history of folk music in New York, 1935 to 1975. That covers a lot of territory, and I’m looking forward to it. Researching that will make him a better curator. He’s already revived The Fugs and the Holy Modal Rounders (or at least a piece of them).

I’m telling you, this is a good event. Don’t miss it. The Brooklyn Folk Festival kicks off the summer season in fine fashion. For details, visit the website or email

This video captures the spirit of the event, though it was recorded in Texas. The duo will be in Brooklyn Saturday evening:

A Cold Night in New Haven

NEW HAVEN—For a city its size, New Haven, Connecticut has a pretty darned impressive music scene. There’s the annual International Festival of Arts and Ideas, which sometimes goes all avant-garde on you, a passel of clubs (Café 9 is a favorite—it really punches above its 30-seat weight) and now the State House.

proud flesh

The Proud Flesh in action. Sorry to blur you, Alexander. (Jim Motavalli photo)

This new space has a warehouse-type entrance off a parking lot, but once you’re inside it’s a compact layout with an open floor for standees, a few tables around the periphery, and a big bar. Don’t ask for food—they’ve got bags of chips, and that’s about it.

But there’s plenty of food for thought—the bills are really adventurous. I don’t know a lot of the acts, but almost all of them sound worth coming out for—even on a snowy night in February.

state house morgan eve

Multi-instrumentalist Morgan Eve Swain played bass with Ian Fitzgerald. (Mary Ann Masarech photo)

What drew me on one such evening was a triple bill of Proud Flesh, Ian Fitzgerald and the Brother Brothers. I didn’t know Fitzgerald, but it turned out he had my old friend Morgan Eve Swain (late of the Liz McNicholl Band and Brown Bird and currently of The Huntress and Holder of Hands), on standup bass. It’s an instrument in which she excels. (Liz herself was there to show support.)

The Flesh are local to New Haven, and they’ve been on my WPKN radio show. They have really good singers and songwriters in Pat Dalton and Alexander Burnet, and for this show had two guitars, bass and drums. Dalton left his trumpet in its case.

Ian Fitzgerald

Ian Fitzgerald was a presence. (Jim Motavalli photo)

Dalton took most of the lead vocals on music that was a nice blend of punchy folk rock. He’s a good lyricist, but the band was loud and it wasn’t a poetry reading. This was also a problem with Fitzgerald’s set—on the basis of snippets I heard, he’s a wordsmith, too, but the message is a lot clearer on his records. The quieter songs were more effective. “Lillian,” written when he was a teenager, apparently, was a standout.

brother brothers

The Brother Brothers make magic together. (Jim Motavalli photo)

The Brother Brothers don’t carry a band around on the road, and don’t need one. These identical twins (hey, I’m one too!) are exceptional on fiddle, cello and guitar, and they switch off at will. Both are full-bodied, expressive singers, and excel at harmonies—drawing inevitable Everly Brothers comparisons.

But the Everlys, good as they were, didn’t write songs as good as “Cairo, Illinois,” “Bird in a Tree,” “Tugboats” and “The Banjo Song.” I’m telling you, this is the Americana band to see in 2019. It’s a quiet storm of folk genius. Even if they did forget the words. Here’s the video:

I’m going to keep an eye on the State House. I’m sure I’ll be back soon.

Westport and Brooklyn: On the Road in Search of Music

You can be twins and have diametrically opposed views on things, contrary to the impression created by Three Identical Strangers, the fascinating documentary about triplets separated at birth. For instance, my identical twin just told me he doesn’t care for live music, and I can’t live without it. To that end, I recently took in a pair of performances, one in Brooklyn and one in Westport, Connecticut.

The fourth annual Brooklyn Americana Music Festival was a delightful free event at multiple venues September 20 to 23. I saw music in two vastly different spaces—inside the Dumbo Archway, with trains rumbling past every 10 minutes, and on Pier 3 of the newly built—and bustling on a Saturday afternoon—Brooklyn Bridge Park. The latter was more intimate, with tables set up to create a kind of club, and the former offered spectacular views of Manhattan and a chance to watch the passing parade.

nora brown

Little Nora Brown (right) and Stephanie Coleman: peers, rather than student and teacher. (Jim Motavalli photo)

I think I’ve seen 13-year-old banjo player Little Nora Brown three times in the last month—lucky me—and in Brooklyn she was paired with fiddle player Stephanie Coleman. It’s a tribute to Brown’s burgeoning talent that they seemed more like peers than teacher and student. Her singing is maturing, too. Here she is on video with Stephanie Coleman:

What little I saw of Nashville-based Indian-American sibling duo Giri and Uma Peters was impressive, in a Nora Brown kind of way. He plays fiddle and sings, she plays clawhammer banjo. On their website, it says, “They have attracted the attention of MacArthur Genius Grant awardee Rhiannon Giddens, dobro master Jerry Douglas, guitar virtuoso Molly Tuttle, and blues harmonica great Phil Wiggins.” Add me to that list.

The M. Shanghai String Band was missing some key players, and one regular singer had lost his voice, so it didn’t add up to a stellar performance. Also, songs from John Prine’s first album should be retired due to over-exposure.

minch and korn

Mamie Minch (left) and Tamar Korn: the odd couple, but two big talents. (Jim Motavalli photo)

I loved the combination of Mamie Minch and Tamar Korn, first encountered at the Brooklyn Folk Festival. Korn was also fine up at Oldtone this year. As a duo they’re a bit like the Odd Couple; Minch is quite tall and relatively still when she plays, and Korn is short and extremely animated—really “putting over” a song, as they used to say. She plays an array of fake instruments, too. Their harmonies sounded a little under-rehearsed, but I love their choice of material—old gems, for the most part. Minch has an absolutely lovely, deep alto, and is a fine songwriter and guitarist, too. They’ve made one somewhat lo-fi EP; I hope they do more soon.

Jolie Holland and Samantha Parton, whose work I loved in The Be Good Tanyas, were curiously slack in Brooklyn. The songs (including a cover of Dylan’s “Minstrel Boy”), and the harmonies, just weren’t cohering.

Karen Dahlstrom is from Idaho, but has been resident in New York many years. She’s been on my radio show, and I’ve caught her in the band Bobtown. She was fine solo, with the wide open spaces of Idaho a frequent theme. Check out her album Gem State.

Cricket Tell the Weather, which relocated from Connecticut to Brooklyn, is one of my favorite bands, but fiddle player and leader Andrea Asprelli recently started graduate school at NYU so the version of the band we got was a duo with guitarist Jason Borisoff, her former partner in Atlantic Crossing. They were just fine in a set that showcased her singing and songwriting and his hot picking.

queen esther

Queen Esther under the arch. (blurrily photographed by Jim Motavalli)

And I love Queen Esther, who always reminds me of Valerie June, but is a bit more urban in her approach. Although fine with just a second guitarist, she’s working in a staggering number of genres and formats, including theater.  Listen to this:

Her work as a vocalist, lyricist, songwriter, actor/solo performer and playwright/librettist led to creative collaborations in neo-vaudeville, alt-theater, various alt-rock configurations, (neo) swing bands, trip hop DJs, spoken word performances, jazz combos, jam bands, various blues configurations, original Off-Broadway plays and musicals, experimental music/art noise and performance art.” She played with Elliot Sharp, and was in the original touring company of Rent.

Queen Esther is working on a song cycle about Cathay Williams, probably the first African-American woman to serve in the U.S. Army—albeit, disguised as a man. Despite many possibilities of exposure, she served for two years after the Civil War. She’s in an upcoming book of mine; stay tuned for that.



The grand finale at the Connecticut Ukulele Festival. (Jim Motavalli photo)

And last night in Westport I went to the first annual Connecticut Ukulele Festival, produced by Peter Propp and held at the Westport Suzuki School. I missed all the workshop stuff—I’ll never be a musician, and I know it—but the point is that this is an instrument you can pick up and be playing straight away.

Steve Forlano is an amiable uke player who embraces that philosophy wholeheartedly, and began holding sessions for would-be strummers at the Westport YMCA. These days they get 20 to 30 beginners at the weekly events. Forlano brought Propp and three or four other uke players (collectively known as the Cukes) up to my WPKN radio show. They performed the Beatles’ “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” and the Kinks’ “Sunny Afternoon.” Very nice. That’s the video above.


The Edukated Fleas play the hits–from 1930. (Jim Motavalli photo)

I made it down for the concert, which was very well attended for a first event. The Edukated Fleas have a laid-back approach to standards like “Me and Jane in a Plane,” “Deed I Do” and “No Moon at All.”

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Uncle Zach revives the Allen Sherman songbook. (Jim Motavalli photo)

Uncle Zak was amusing, playing song parodies and oddball tunes. He grew up in a family where all his uncles played music—especially ukes—and a lot of the songs were from that repertoire. There was “Blue Moon” and something called “She Ain’t Rose but Rose Ain’t Here.”

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Abe Deshotel’s quirky songs were modernized with effects pedals. (Jim Motavalli photo)

Abe Deshotel was the evening’s moody singer-songwriter. He played his uke through pedals and played both some striking originals and covers by Leon Bridges and Hozier. Could work on his stage presence, though.

The headliners were worth waiting for. I’ve followed uke pioneer Victoria Vox through 10 albums and maybe a dozen live performances, and even when she’s down the evening is up. These days she’s decidedly upbeat and playing with her husband, the talented guitarist Jack Maher.


Victoria Vox is upbeat these days, and has a lot of new songs flopping around on the deck. (Jim Motavalli photo)

Vox is a one-woman band with her uke and mouth trumpet, but Maher (who records with Feed the Kitty) adds a lot, both in terms of fills and the occasional solo, plus vocal harmonies. I was thrilled to see Vox has written a whole crop of new songs, all of them strong, and some of which appear on her latest album Colorful Heart. “Out on the Rails” is a tuneful number about hobos, and “I Remember the Music” about the stuff that stays with you.

“Leaving Without Goodbye” is from her new project with Maher, Jack and the Vox. It’s about a fight Jack and Victoria had, but as Maher pointed out, “We got a song out of it.”

I’m sure there will be a second Connecticut Ukulele Festival.

Oldtones and New Tones Close Out the Festival Season

NORTH HILLSDALE, NY—When I told people I was going to an old-time music festival, they asked me who might be playing that they’d know. “Bill and the Belles,” I said. “Anna and Elizabeth. The Foghorn String Band. Big stars all.”

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Little Nora Brown and John Cohen. There’s no generation gap at Oldtone. (Jim Motavalli photo)

They certainly are to me, and to a widening coterie of fans who make the trek up to the rural three-state region (Connecticut and Massachusetts are minutes away), even braving the cold to stay up late into the night—when honky-tonk, Cajun and square dancing rule.

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The Foghorn String Band were everywhere over the weekend. (Jim Motavalli photo)

If you don’t know these acts, you may soon. Move over, Beyonce. Let’s start with Anna and Elizabeth, who are ballad singers and tradition explorers, but also a great deal more than that. Along with fellow adventurers Sam Amidon (from Vermont) and House and Land (from North Carolina) they aren’t afraid to add an electronic sheen to their music—at least on record, at Oldtone it was shivery pipe organ and fiddle that added the effects.

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Esther Rose (foreground) on the Tweener Stage. Singer-songwriters were welcome. (Jim Motavalli photo)

Elizabeth LaPrelle has been described as the best ballad singer in America, and I second that, with a nod to June Tabor, who’s the best ballad singer in England. LaPrelle sings with a sense of high drama, and I absolutely love that. Murder ballads are, after all, about murder—something that gets lost as bluegrass folks rush to show off their hot licks.

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Anna and Elizabeth, going for the dramatic. (Jim Motavalli photo)

At Oldtone, Anna and Elizabeth made each song a dramatic event. They used tools (some centuries old) such as the pre-movie “crankie”—painted scrolls that tell a story—to heighten the effect. On one song, Anna Roberts-Gevalt started out playing a frantic banjo part, which got more and more percussive until she was pounding on it and screaming. Believe me, it worked.

On another song, “Margaret,” Elizabeth held up a laptop and played a scratchy 1940 Margaret Shipman recording from the archives of Vermont’s Helen Hartness Flanders. Then they played the song themselves. That worked, too. Just before I left, I heard Elizabeth sing an eight-minute version of “Pretty Saro” accompanied only by two sax players providing drones. Check out the results here:

Providing effects was fiddler/organist Cleek Schrey. A highlight was his luminous fiddle tune, with Anna dancing and Elizabeth providing wordless vocals. Schrey is the perfect tour partner, an almost avant-garde folkie.

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Tamar Korn on the Tweener stage. She played novelty and ancient Yiddish songs with great vivacity. (Jim Motavalli photo)

The first act I saw at Oldtone was Run Mountain, sadly lacking the multi-talented old-time pioneer Bill Dillof, who died this year. His wife, Paula Bradley, bravely carried on without him, in a duo with Vermont-based fiddler and singer Jim Burns. They were wonderful. Did you know that the “Diamond Joe” in the song of the same name is a steamboat? I didn’t, either, but as Burns said, it makes sense of the song.

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Cedric Watson made the hills reverberate with his resonant voice and accordion/fiddle playing. (Jim Motavalli photo)

There’s a nice tribute to Dillof (1948 to 2018) in the Oldtone program book. He said that with music “I just get lost in the rhythms and the chord changes, the hum and the resonance all around you…It’s as strong as the need to eat when you’re hungry to sleep when you’re exhausted. You just float right into the music. That’s what I do…I’m a musician.”

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Paula Bradley and Bill Dillof performing as Moonshine Holler at the Buttonwood Tree in Middletown, Connecticut. (Jim Motavalli photo)

Cedric Watson was ubiquitous at the festival. It’s great to see young musicians so capable. He played Cajun, blues and folk stuff on accordion and fiddle and sang in a resonant voice that made the cows perk up. He was mostly solo, but sounded great with a band on some things.

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Bluegrass old-timer mandolin player Frank Wakefield gets his photo took by the Afghan Photo Studio. (Jim Motavalli photo)

I’ve been closely following the Foghorn String Band since seeing Sammy Lind and Nadine Landry at The Hoot recently. Along with fellow Foghorns Caleb Klauder and Reeb Willms, they were the festival’s MVPs, playing in every conceivable combination. Lind, who’s an incredibly versatile fiddle player with a voice that doesn’t get used enough, was on the bandstand half the time with various combinations.

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The Downhill Strugglers: ragged but right. (Jim Motavalli photo)

The Downhill Strugglers were ragged but right. I’ve written so much about them via the Brooklyn Folk Festival that suffice it to say they make the pre-war music come alive. John Cohen, an original New Lost City Rambler, was in good voice, and Jackson Lynch and his fiddle were on the bandstand when Lind was not.

An Oldtone innovation is to offer between-set acts on the small “Tweener” stage, and it was there I heard a darned nice newcomer named Esther Rose. The festival is not averse to singer-songwriters, though it’s not the regular fare.

A highlight of the excellent Jimmy C. Newman tribute (organized by Klauder and Willms) was a song called the “H. Brown Shuffle.” Newman composed it for a local auto parts store to finance the release of the flip side, “Cry Cry Darling.”

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Bill and the Belles, with banjo player Helena Hunt. (Jim Motavalli photo)

I’d just seen Bill and the Belles at the Hoot, so was surprised to see a new banjo player, Helena Hunt. She seemed to know all of Grace Van’t Hof’s parts. But maybe she was just filling in. Of course, they brought alive a tradition that never really existed but should have. What if 1930s crooners had loved the Carter Family and classic jazz? Absolutely nobody sings like Kris Truelsen. He’s a 78 come to life.

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Jill Turpin of the Green Mountain Festival in Vermont acquited herself well on the stage. (Jim Motavalli photo)

It was a pleasure to see Jill Turpin up on stage during Nadine Landry’s gospel feature on, of course, Sunday. She just promoted the very first Green Mountain Bluegrass and Roots Festival, but she can sing very credibly, too! It figures, since you have to do these events for love, not money.

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Hubby Jenkins read from his little book of ghost stories. (Jim Motavalli photo)

Oh, and don’t let me forget Hubby Jenkins, who triumphs in the art form known as the solo set. Not only did he do a song written by a white guy from the perspective of a black guy regretting the end of slavery (and put it in context), but he read a suspenseful ghost story—with chapters after each song. What a showman! He played fine banjo and slide guitar, as well.

Little Nora Brown was a delight, as always. She’s more mature—in her banjo playing and backwoods singing—every time I see her, even if the interval is mere months. I love her song patter. She gets tied in knots sometimes trying to explain her love for this music, but it’s sincere and charming.

As usual, the cows seemed to enjoy the scene. Cool Whisper Farm must be more placid the rest of the year. Here’s Elizabeth LaPrelle with saxophones, performing “Pretty Saro”:

And here’s one more Anna and Elizabeth video. their performance of “Margaret,” using the original field recording:

Festival Season Winds Down

Festival season is in full swing, and I’ve been making an effort to get to as many as I can. The things I do for art! Recently I’ve been to the first annual Green Mountain Bluegrass and Roots festival in Manchester Center, Vermont, and the Summer Hoot at the Ashokan Center in Olivebridge, New York. Let’s start with Green Mountain.

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Molly Tuttle (right) with Allison deGroot.

The weather was threatening when we arrived at the site, an accommodating city park. Matt Fliner was playing gentle instrumental pieces. Then came the Goodbye Girls, an international ensemble including a Swedish fiddler, Lena Jonsson. Doing most of the vocals and guitar playing was Molly Tuttle, who I remembered from a duo she had with John Mailander and a great performance at Fresh Grass (a festival I’ll have to miss this year, alas).

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deGroot again with Tatiana Hargreaves (right).

Tuttle is a phenomenon, a great singer and an amazing flatpicker. In a later solo appearance she essayed her version of Townes Van Zandt’s “White Freightliner.” You can catch a couple takes of her doing that song on Youtube. Flying fingers. There’s even a video entitled something like “Five Things Guitarists Can Learn by Watching Molly Tuttle Play White Freightliner.”

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Peter Rowan did a wonderful make-up show, with colorful stories, the day after the rain.

The Goodbye Girls are great, too, with material all over the international map.

Jordan Tice, a performer I didn’t know, was subtly impressive on a country repertoire. He’s from a bluegrass family in Maryland, and has a stellar all-star cast on his latest album, Horse Country. Tice did a wonderful job later in the festival with a session devoted to the music of John Hartford. It was one of the best of such endeavors I’ve seen, involving nearly all the performers in attendance. But not everyone was with the program: Hartford was such a prolific composer that performing a Waylon Jennings song (even if Hartford recorded it) didn’t make much sense.

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Lula Wiles, harmonizing.

One of the MVPs of the festival was fiddler Tatiana Hargreaves, who backed Tuttle, paid tribute to Hartford, and appeared in a duo with banjo player Allison deGroot (as seen in Bruce Molsky’s band).  I didn’t realize Hargreaves—a star fiddler and deep historian of the music—was such a good singer. She’s raw, loud and great. I especially appreciated her version of Leadbelly’s “Out on the Western Plain.” You bet there were female cowboys.

A powerhouse trio of Danny Barnes, Grant Gordy and Joe Walsh (no, not that Joe Walsh) was laid-back, with Barnes proving a strong country-type singer. Barnes told a story about the “gig of fear.” It’s 800 miles away, the audience is stinking drunk, the sign outside just says “live music,” and the pay doesn’t cover the cost of gas. I think I added that last one.

I am a big fan of Rachel Baiman’s voice. She’s half of 10 String Symphony, which has her fiddle paired with Christian Sedelmyer’s. They play other instruments, too, and write memorable songs. Sedelmyer was also frequently on the bandstand all weekend. I have to put this in. Sedelmyer has performed or recorded with:

Jerry Douglas, Emmylou Harris, Bela Fleck, Vince Gill, Kacey Musgraves, Sierra Hull, Molly Tuttle, Alison Brown, Sam Bush, Darrell Scott, Tim O’Brien, Bryan Sutton, Buddy Miller, Jim Lauderdale, Peter Rowan, Andrew Marlin, Steve Earle, Langhorne Slim, The String Cheese Incident, The Indigo Girls, Rayland Baxter, Kelsey Waldon, Caroline Spence, Sons of Bill, The Apache Relay, The Greencards, The DanBerrys, The Black Lillies, Eli West, Mac McAnally, Carolyn Martin (TX Western Swing Hall of Fame, The Time Jumpers), Jenni Lyn Gardner, Sally & George, and Nora Jane Struthers.

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Sierra Hull, with mandolin, saying howdy.

Eli West is a sturdy singer and banjo/guitarist who performed solo on tunes that ranged from “Silver Dagger” to “Isle of France,” a ballad from the 1770s. He must have performed in Scandinavia recently, because he told us about BaconOst, a disgusting-sounding bacon/cheese combo that’s squeezed out of a tube.

festival baconost

I’ve interviewed both Rayna Gellert and Kieran Kane, so it was a pleasure to see them together for an easy-going set. Kane, who has a wry sense of humor, told us we were seeing the same set “we do in Vegas, but minus the dancers.”

Gellert is one of the best fiddle players in the world, and Kane one of the best songwriters, and together they are magic. Kane’s songs are full of wisdom and hard-learned truths, and if you haven’t heard them, you owe yourself. Look especially for the several records he made as Kane Welch and Kaplin. Kane also sang a song by David Francey, an undiscovered genius from Canada by way of Scotland.

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This was the first-ever Green Mountain Bluegrass and Roots festival, but there will be another next year.

The bass player and lead singer in the Lonely Heartstrings Band looked like the same guy, so I wasn’t surprised to learn they are twin brothers Charles and George Clements. Amazingly enough, they were raised in the same town, in the same house, with the same parents. Even their birthday is the same! But one sings and the other doesn’t.

Alas, the threatening skies finally delivered on their promise, and it began to pour rain. Peter Rowan and Donna the Buffalo were rained out, but fortunately Rowan turned up the next day and did a fine set that included quite a lot of history, from first meetings with Carter Stanley (resulting in his great song “Carter Stanley’s Tears”) to the founding of Earth Opera with David Grisman.

Sierra Hull is a curious case. She burst on the scene as a precocious mandolin talent, and has matured into a major star and a mature singer. She has a very talented young band that shined in the instrumental pieces. The issue, though, is two-fold. She insists on singing her own songs, which are weak and without distinguishing features, and offers on-stage patter that is superficial and slick.

I wrote down, “Sierra Hull could be the next Alison Krauss if she just sang other people’s songs.” It worked for Linda Ronstadt! I have this same problem with Chris Thile’s band, Punch Brothers. The original songs just sit there, something that can’t be helped by even the most stellar musicians. And Punch Brothers are that.

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Sam Reider (on accordion) brought the bracing compositions from his album Too Hot to Sleep.

Mipso was also rained out, and it was the second time I missed seeing them, but I hope to make up for that. Members of the band shined on a song at the Hartford tribute, and the songs I’ve heard online are very nice.

Lula Wiles have recently signed to Smithsonian Folkways, and at Green Mountain they were as engaging as ever. They delivered a strong version of a Dolly Parton song I didn’t know, “The Pain of Loving You.” And Isa Burke and Ellie Buckland both had lovelorn new songs.

Mandolin Orange were headliners of a sort, and are big stars on the North Carolina music scene. Andrew Marlin, who looks like the Tim Hutton around the time he starred in Ordinary People, is a wizard on the mandolin, as he especially proved during a later gospel set. In Mandolin Orange, with Emily Frantz, he mostly plays his very philosophical songs—some of which were better than others. But they have a lovely sound.

Organizer Jill Turpin told me, “Jim, not in our wildest imaginations could we have ever planned something so magical. We were definitely blessed by some amazing force of nature and somehow, the rain was a magical momentum that bonded everyone, audience and artist alike. We are still glowing. Now the big problem of…how do we top that next year?”

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Mike and Ruthy, going through the Hoot logistics.

OK, let’s journey south a bit to the Summer Hoot, the oasis of a festival put on annually at the Ashokan Center by Mike and Ruthy, a/k/a the core of the Mammals. Ruth Ungar is the daughter of Jay Ungar, who’s been organizing music camps and workshops at Ashokan for 30 years. (And, yes, he wrote “Ashokan Farewell.”)

The Hoot is something of a family affair, as Mike and Ruthy’s kids are much in evidence, Ungar plays with his wife Molly Mason, and also with his ex-wife, Lyn Hardy (Ruthy’s mother). Got all that straight?

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The Hoot wakes up to love waves from the gongs.

If you think festivals have gotten too expensive, check out the Summer Hoot. A night in the bunkhouse is only $25, and it covers breakfast! No price gouging at the Hoot, where you can go for a nature walk along the Esopus Creek, and then make it back for the music on the gentle slope of Hoot Hill.

Billy Wylder is a curious band, influenced by the music of Mali. Wylder himself, a dynamic performer, reminds me a bit of Johnny Clegg. He’s not African himself, but he did tour with Bombino, the breakout Saharan guitar star. The band is very multicultural, and they put on a good performance. Wylder’s best song had a title something like “Restless Mutineer,” but not all of the material was of that quality.

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Bill and the Belles have a unique pop/old-time sound.

The festival isn’t strictly a folk event—the music is too wide ranging for that. Take Bill and the Belles. The band, the brainchild of Kris Truelsen, is an enchanting mashup of 1930s pop with old-time and swinging gals like the Boswell Sisters. It’s very listenable. Truelsen perfectly recreates what a period singer in thrall to Bing Crosby might have sounded like, if he had both old-time and jazz obsessions.

Aiding in the effort are the Alaska-bred fiddler and singer Kalia Yeagle, and banjo player Grace Van’t Hof, harmonizes with Yeagle. “We quickly discovered our mutual love for rich vocal harmonies and simple catchy melodies,” Truelsen said. “We picked out a few songs we’d been throwing around in various settings that were from the early commercial recording era and it clicked.” Don’t miss DreamSongs Etc, their latest album.

I was also quite taken with the duo of Nadine Landry and Sammy Lind, who can also be seen with their Foghorn String Band at the Oldtones Festival September 6-9. If you can make one more festival this summer, make it that one.

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Sammy Lind and Nadine Landry mix up the old time and the Cajun.

Landry is Acadian, and learned to play Cajun music in Alaska (of all places). Lind is a multi-instrumentalist very strong on old-time music, but also Cajun—which he essayed on banjo as well as fiddle. Landry sings nice and loud, which reminds me what Cajun dances must have been like before microphones. Oh, and Landry sang another heartfelt Dolly Parton song I didn’t know, about a guy who wants to leave as much as you want them to stay.

I saw two fine singer-songwriters at the Hoot, and one of them was Huck Notari, who reminded me of a rural Jesse Winchester. Not that Jesse himself wasn’t rural, in his way. Notari told corny jokes. Here’s one: “What did the chick pea say to the garbanzo bean when it work up with a headache? I falafel.” I liked a song called “Bird’s on the River,” which had no other lyrics other than those.

Of course, the Mammals were wonderful. Playing home base, with their kids and family all around, they were both relaxed and very dynamic. Ruth Unger is an increasingly powerful singer, Like Rhiannon Giddens, she might benefit from a solo album that showcases that side of her talent.

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Little Nora Brown, at 13, does grown-up sets, and her love for the music shines through.

Kudos to Little Nora Brown, who at 13 did an entirely grown up set. I love her between-song patter, which shows both that she’s still a kid but also a serious student of old-time music. She’s the Sierra Hull of her time. Sammy Lind and Nadine Landry sat in on a tune, and they made natural partners. Brown even did a bit of solo shape note singing.

Amber Rubarth was the other good singer-songwriter I heard. She writes crafty little tunes with thoughtful lyrics, and they stay in your head. “What if our hearts were colored glass, and wars were games?” she asked. If you can, catch her starring role in the dramatic film American Folk, which was screened at the Hoot. She’s very natural; her character is just like Rubarth in person.

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Amber Rubarth. We had a (modest) movie star in our midst.

Guy Davis was a first-timer at the Hoot, though I’ve seen him many times (particularly at Clearwater). Mark Murphy was an occasional bass foil. Davis kicked off with Reverend Robert Wilkins” “Prodigal Son,” which the Rolling Stones stole and claimed to have written. “Like Sonny Did” is an affectionate tribute to Sonny Terry.

Let’s see. Amalia had a nice jazzy sound, but weak songs and a pretty bad sax player. Elizabeth Mitchell was fine, also bringing her family into the act. I could listen to her sing anything.

As we were reluctantly leaving, a band called Max’s New Hat was just starting up, with spirited wedding music from the Balkans. They’d be great in some little Brooklyn club, but at a Balkan wedding, too.

Let me add here that I also attended an end-of-summer show at Concerts on the Hill in Easton, Connecticut featuring my friend Danny Tressler. The band is called Amber Anchor, the latest of a string of ensembles Danny has been in. This one featured Andrew Whitten on bass and Jeff Smith on excellent dobro, guitar and mandolins.

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Dan Tressler on fiddle with Jeff Smith (center) and Andrew Whitten.

They did mostly the classics: “Angeline the Baker,” “Jambalaya,” “Hesitation Blues,” “Little Birdie,” “A Pallet on the Floor.” But also curve balls such as Cat Stevens’ “Moonshadow.”

I could hear Danny Tressler sing anything, and he’s a superb player also, especially on fiddle but also mandolin and guitar. Smith is also a good singer, and a wizard on dobro and guitar. Maybe this is the group that will hit the big time. Here’s some video, with the group playing Townes Van Zandt’s “White Freightliner” (the same song Molly Tuttle did):

These festivals are still coming up:

Oldtone Roots Music Festival, September 6-9.

Rhythm and Roots, August 31-September 2.

Brooklyn Americana Festival, September 20-23.