Billy was charming, gracious, out going, hospitable, brotherly, fatherly, friendly and fun.  He greeted us with hugs, introduced us to his crew who were gracious and gentlemanly.  He even apologized for taking so much time during his sound check and lamented the fact that we wouldn't be able to join him in Albany.  I told him it was because we were playing with Pete that day and he said he have to come after us with an axe if we were to say no to Pete Seeger.  Interesting choice of words.  Maybe he didn;t say that, but one of his crew did.  It was part of the conversation at least.

Our set was solid. We played it pretty down beat and took advantage of the incredible acoustics we experienced during sound check.  I did manage to slip in my new anti-war song, "How Many More" which I felt good about.  I think it's a good song.  I still haven;t gotten an overwhelming response from it anywhere I do it, maybe it's too long.  I really thought Billy's fan would lap it up.  Instead the I believe they just, "liked" it.  Good enough for now.

Our set, by the way, was:

Short While

All the Time

Something's Got a Hold on Me

Another Dawn Another Day

Slow Train

End of Time

End of Time fucking rocked if I do say so myself.  Especially with the rest of the set having been so much on the mellow tip.  Everyone was ready for and perhaps not quite expecting a bit of drive from a low tuned, chugging Yamaha dreadnaught from the 70s played by one mjmjr aka mm aka m

So, Billy.  It took me longer than I liked to get our selves and gear settled before I could go and latch on to Billy's set.  His ease on stage and confidence as a solo performer was awe inspiring to me.  Purely confident with execution 30 years of experience gets you.  

My first favorite moment was his version of Woody's "I Ain't Got No Home" which he performed more as a lamet as opposed to the upbeat, bluegrassy version I'm so used to hearing "on the circuit." It was a nice reminder to continue to reinvent these old favorite songs of mine and do them like I would do them and not like so many others who shall remain nameless.   A gorgeous verison.

Okay, so shortly after that he starts a rant about his pre show ritual back at the hotel which actually ended with the phrase - I shit you not - "Shit, shower and shave."  The fucking balls, I tell you, of a performer to clearly and confidently deliver the information to an audience that he, within the two hours, cleared his bowels.  The gall, I tell ya.  What a master!

Okay, so, I do need to sleep tonight before Willy wakes up so I'm gonna wrap this up shortly.

So, I watched most of the set from the wing sitting next to Billy's manager whom I had met at MSG and whom I contacted about getting on this Bill, Peter Jenner (bad ass) but decided I better go check it out from the front before he wrapped up his set and I'm so glad I did. 

So, Billy's sort of summing up his world views and philosophies with us the audience, praising Americans for voting Obama in to office, reminding us of the significance of this event and how the time is now to believe that something positive can be done, that there are possibilities, when a fucking right winger from the balcony goes on the taunting offensive with "shut up and sing, we paid to be entertained, yada yada, etc.  And it gets a little tense for a minute there.  Billy yields to the heckler and doesn't seem to be in complete control, as a choice, opting to invite a small amount of anarchy onto the set list, when he finally and defiantly declares, "Listen, I didn;t come here to just sing songs, I came here to change the fucking world," and the place went fukcing nuts!  Screams followed by a standing ovation.  It was hot.  

I knew I was gonna wanna be back stage when billy came off so I made my way back. Sure enough, when Billy came back he need a little bit of reassurance from that epic yet unsettling moment and he had a hug.  Me and Billy.  Billy and I had a hug backstage before his encore in solidarity and in agreement that he played that point to a fucking tee.  As you, reader, might imagine, these are the moments that define my career and what end up being the reasons I remain in this strange, torturous, and, at times,  unbelievable rewarding business. 

That's more or less what I have to share with you, friends.  After the show Billy and I drank a Corona in the green room which he popped open for me by smashing the cap against the edge of the table in true punk rock, backstage fashion.   We conversed about the state of society as it relates to democracy and what can and can't be done at this time in history.  While we are not on the brink of a revolution, there is still so much that can be accomplished and so much promise for a more civil future.  

We exchanged some pleasantries with Leah Kunkel (Mama Cass's daughter whom I, strangley, lived in the house of in Middlefield, MA when I left NYC, that story another time) and then we headed up stairs to try and hock a few more records.  

All in all, a great success and one hell of a fucking birthday.  

(please excuse the curses abundant in this blogg.  This is how I talk.)  Oh, and if you can ever go see Billy Bragg, DO.  

Until later,

Mike