The first thing that I notice are the hands, well the right hand, David's strumming hand. It's huge, long, sure, but not lanky - long shoreman huge. Like he's been pitching 100lb. boxes into trailers for 40 years, not coaxing sounds out of a guitar. They are big. Meaty and long. How the hell does he play a fiddle with those sledge hammers? Man there's a lot of meat on that thing, but that really doesn't go to the heart of David's playing. The guy is a master of acoustic stylings and stamps a huge imprint of his own on everything he plays. Blues single line and fingerpicking. Bluegrass flatpicking. Cross picking, folk style alternating bass picking and strumming, Django inspired two finger jazz runs up the high strings of his much played, much loved Martin M38 guitar. The guy is a walking fucking library of how to play guitar and, like I'm 16 again, I cannot take my eyes of his hands. He laughs as he moves from a bluegrass run into something even he didn't expect to play, then moves back to the run he had going. He struts to the front of the stage like he's holding a Les Paul with a stack of Marshalls behind him, leaning back on his heals and ripping off licks while smiling, no smirking alternately at the crowd and the ceiling. And I'd forgotten how goddamn funny David Bromberg is - he ad libs in a carefree, irreverent fashion on everything from Newport, Ky. never to be redeemed relationships and national politics.

My wife Monica and I got to the Southgate House about 7:00 for a 7:30 sound check, and true to headliner fashion, the David Bromberg Quartet had just showed up for their sound check. Excellent, I thought. I was hoping to see their sound check, but feeding the kids, fetching the babysitter, and waiting for Monica to get home from work was conspiring against this hope. I love watching touring bands do sound checks. You get a feel for what's important and what's unnecessary. The Quartet blows through some tunes while the monitor and DBQ's FOH sound guys' set some levels and get some feedback from the band as to what they need on stage. The band, fiddle/mandolin, guitar/mandolin/fiddle, bass and guitar/mandolin/fiddle do some nice three violin tunes and then the break from Fiddlin' Tunes on three mandolins. They end up with an instrumental take on Somewhere Over The Rainbow that apparently only David knows, but by the 4th or 5th bar, the other members have fallen in with him. They head of stage and their manager, Stephen, shouts to Dave and introduces me. Jesus, I stammer like I'm 12 and mumble something about seeing him a dozen times while growing up in NJ in he mid-1970's, but fell into punk rock by the early 1980's and hadn't really been following his career. He laughs an easy laugh, grabbing my hand with those HUGE mitts and saying something to the effect that he stopped playing for 20 years, so it'll be just like we left off and he's looking forward to hearing me play. You know, you meet so many ego driven assholes in this music game - some of them have reason to have the ego, some don't. I'm so relieved and refreshed David's not one of the assholes. He could be another local player, for all anyone knows, well except for producing the ground breaking John Hartford LP Steam Power Aero-Planes, creating signature licks like the oft copied acoustic guitar part from Jerry Jeff Walkers Mr. BoJangles and playing and recording with everyone from Bonnie Rate to Jimmy Smith and Willie Nelson to Ravi Shankar. It's really pretty mind boggling when you think of it. The guys a walking talking Americana music machine, and I'm on his bill.

I unpack my guitars and get up on stage and run through one song for a quick sound check then head off for a beer. David has 3 players with him, bassist Butch Amiot, fiddler Jeff Wisor and guitar/mandolinist Mitch Corbin. Nice guys, Mitch with gracious compliments wants to know about my songs and guitars (and I ask him many questions about the guitar he had - he made it!) and Jeff Wisor quizzes me about NJ, though we find a mutual hate for NYC and love for the NY Fingerlakes and Southern Tier as Jeff lives up around Corning.

I got to say I'm a little aprehensive about the size of the crowd. David Bromberg does not come to Cincinnati and hasn't been on the road in a good many years. The ticket prices are high ($30) - what if there are 50 people in this 600 person venue? But the doors open at 8:00 and the place fills up FAST. By my start time of 9:00, there's at least 500 people in the joint, mostly people in my age group - 40-60 years old, which isn't surprising. I roll through my tunes effortlessly, grab one more beer and chat with Mitch Corbin some more about the songs I was playing before he needs ot get on stage, then join Monica at a table right in front stage right for the David Bromberg Quartet.

No disappointment here. It was just like I had walked out of the Bottomline in NYC 30 years ago. Joyful playing. Lots of familiar tunes. The band started the 90 minute set with 'Get Up and Go/Fiddlin Tunes' and proceeded to march through 'Someone Else's Blues', 'Come On In My Kitchen', 'Summer Wages', 'Suffer To Sing The Blues', 'Will Not be Your Fool', and a hole lot of songs I either didn't know or can't remember the names of, ending the set with the always rousing New Lee Highway. A three song encore included a song I didn't know, the always entertaining 'Sharon' and ending with just David and Butch on 'Mr. BoJangles' with David telling the story of recording that song with Jerry Jeff Walker and the story Jerry Jeff told him about writing it in jail in New Orleans. The crowd thunders their approval as he finishes and leaves the stage.

Damn, Such A Night.