By Sonny Smith
I kept seeing this guy at all the shows, always with the big Grizzly Adams-type beard, with a flannel shirt and cowboy boots. A tall man, long hair, large features. I met him outside the public library once. It was raining, and he stood there spouting some convoluted scheme to make art across the country. I couldn’t puzzle together what the hell he was talking about.
Every time I see him at a show he’s setting up little microphones all over the mic stand and the stage, and then video taping it, too. He’s got a big Samsonite suitcase full of digital tape. He’s probably got about one hundred thousand billion hours of live local music – not to mention video. The Oh Sees, Jolie Holland, Michael Musicka, Entrance, etc.
“I like the idea that music actually makes a difference” he said to me. “More than just a soundtrack to people’s lives. I wanted to shoot stuff and put it in the context of my life, the story of my own life, so the songs tell my story. Isn’t that what a mix tape is all about?”