For the Fun of It
Published in the Berkshire Eagle, 3/17/10
By Jeremy D. Goodwin
PITTSFIELD—In an interview last week, Sam Bush told me he frequently has dreams about traveling to the next gig.
"The most obvious translation of that is that I love being at the show!" he said at the time. Freudian analysis aside, this reality was on full display during the Sam Bush Band's performance at the Colonial Theatre Friday night. If body language is any indication, Bush may have had the most fun of anyone in the room.
The generous, two-set affair drew from his latest album ("Circles Around Me") while also ranging from bluegrass classics of the Bill Monroe era to a dip into the songbook of Bush's pioneering New Grass Revival.
His crackerjack band showed its flexibility, shifting ably from whip-smart deliveries of old timey tunes like "Uncle Penn" and "Roll In My Sweet Baby's Arms" to gently cosmic newgrass explorations and, occasionally, the relaxed shuffle of a rock outfit.
Bluegrass is a chops-dependant genre based on near constant tension-and-release; the innovation of Bush and his generation of newgrass-playing pickers was to dial down the tension at times and give the music a chance to groove. This technique was on glorious display during "Crooked Smile," a tune off Bush's 1987 solo album "Late as Usual" that formed the center of gravity of the second set and thus the show.
This instrumental number allowed for a deep, rich jam featuring the full quintet digging in its heels. Bush's swinging mandolin lines seemed to split the song open and tear out the stuffing, not with try-to-catch-me-now chops but with a questing, soulful touch that felt fully open to the inspiration of the moment. Bush even tossed in a somewhat imprecise quote of "My Favorite Things," the Rodgers and Hammerstein show tune famously turned on its head by John Coltrane. Stephen Mougin also shone on acoustic guitar.
PITTSFIELD—In an interview last week, Sam Bush told me he frequently has dreams about traveling to the next gig.
"The most obvious translation of that is that I love being at the show!" he said at the time. Freudian analysis aside, this reality was on full display during the Sam Bush Band's performance at the Colonial Theatre Friday night. If body language is any indication, Bush may have had the most fun of anyone in the room.
The generous, two-set affair drew from his latest album ("Circles Around Me") while also ranging from bluegrass classics of the Bill Monroe era to a dip into the songbook of Bush's pioneering New Grass Revival.
His crackerjack band showed its flexibility, shifting ably from whip-smart deliveries of old timey tunes like "Uncle Penn" and "Roll In My Sweet Baby's Arms" to gently cosmic newgrass explorations and, occasionally, the relaxed shuffle of a rock outfit.
Bluegrass is a chops-dependant genre based on near constant tension-and-release; the innovation of Bush and his generation of newgrass-playing pickers was to dial down the tension at times and give the music a chance to groove. This technique was on glorious display during "Crooked Smile," a tune off Bush's 1987 solo album "Late as Usual" that formed the center of gravity of the second set and thus the show.
This instrumental number allowed for a deep, rich jam featuring the full quintet digging in its heels. Bush's swinging mandolin lines seemed to split the song open and tear out the stuffing, not with try-to-catch-me-now chops but with a questing, soulful touch that felt fully open to the inspiration of the moment. Bush even tossed in a somewhat imprecise quote of "My Favorite Things," the Rodgers and Hammerstein show tune famously turned on its head by John Coltrane. Stephen Mougin also shone on acoustic guitar.
"Revival," Sam Bush Band (2/26/10)
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The printed setlist called for moderate weeper “Souvineer Bottles” at this point, but Bush apparently made a battlefield decision to keep the intensity dialed up with “Bringin’ In The Georgia Mail,” which opened with some great interplay between Bush’s mandolin and the electric upright bass of Byron House. The song featured an all-out string assault, with Bush, Mougin and Scott Vestal (on banjo) tearing it up in a long, leisurely intro.
Bush acknowledged his lack of fidelity to bluegrass conventions when he playfully announced drummer Chris Brown as an eight-time winner of the International Bluegrass Music Association’s “drummer of the year” award. (Strictly speaking, there are no drummers in bluegrass proper.) He expressed his gratitude to the fans several times, at one point thanking the packed house for making it possible to “have so much fun by making a living.”
Bush closed the first set by breaking out his fiddle for “River, Take Me” and “New Country,” each tune displaying a wonderful interplay of musical voices. Bush was a champion fiddle player before he took up the mandolin, and he keeps his skills sharp enough to impress on high-intensity workouts like these.
Elsewhere, the title track of the new record (a newgrass power ballad if there ever was one) and the haunting “The Ballad of Stringbean and Estelle” illustrated some emotional range, as well as the deepening strengths of Bush’s full catalog.
Bush is of a rare breed: he began making influential records nearly forty years ago, but still sounds as relevant and intriguing as ever. In a popular music sense, that’s important. But it can be pretty fun as well.
Bush acknowledged his lack of fidelity to bluegrass conventions when he playfully announced drummer Chris Brown as an eight-time winner of the International Bluegrass Music Association’s “drummer of the year” award. (Strictly speaking, there are no drummers in bluegrass proper.) He expressed his gratitude to the fans several times, at one point thanking the packed house for making it possible to “have so much fun by making a living.”
Bush closed the first set by breaking out his fiddle for “River, Take Me” and “New Country,” each tune displaying a wonderful interplay of musical voices. Bush was a champion fiddle player before he took up the mandolin, and he keeps his skills sharp enough to impress on high-intensity workouts like these.
Elsewhere, the title track of the new record (a newgrass power ballad if there ever was one) and the haunting “The Ballad of Stringbean and Estelle” illustrated some emotional range, as well as the deepening strengths of Bush’s full catalog.
Bush is of a rare breed: he began making influential records nearly forty years ago, but still sounds as relevant and intriguing as ever. In a popular music sense, that’s important. But it can be pretty fun as well.
