A full stage at the Cedar Lounge. photo by Elsa Krantz.

This is my June-ly self-imposed jabber about how I am getting my kicks around town. As overcast days turn us on with intermittent teases of sunshine, thunder and lightning and double rainbows, I am craving heat. I am getting warm rain. I suppose I am satisfied, but am still wanting. 

Wednesday night at the Cedar Lounge the stage upheld eight: Jumpsuit, Ricky Francy and Boss Mama.

Two voices, six instruments. Fleetwood Mac, Bob Marley, JJ Cale and Saltydog were all covered. A few Boss Mama & the Jebberhooch originals were sprinkled throughout for some bluesy, scratchy soul punches. Hearing local musicians cover other local musicians is my favorite. It’s especially wondrous when two boisterous female voices combine with body and soul to render the gift of a familiar tune. Ricky Francy and Boss Mama hitting Saltydog’s “One Line at a Time” and “Suit” is really quite satisfying. 

I love a performer who simply lays down their lines and remains ever present on stage – their sound: produced. Their poise: collected. They exist otherwise solely as a listening funkster awaiting sweet sonic space. There may be some physical swaying in between but mostly, they are just there and there. And by there and there, I mean here and now. It is one thing to interact with the audience, but when there are so many sound makers on one stage, it is critical that you are there mostly listening. Turn your back to the audience for all I care! Some of these eight I could not even see because they were sitting behind another two or three who were standing shoulder to shoulder. It doesn’t matter. Listen. 

Highlights were the spinal cracking, sheriff shooting, big ol’ Ford driving (I imagine this vehicle muddy, rusting and full of a fresh hunt of maybe, hare?), Cajun mooning and the putting on of the suit. What if he took the suit off? I yearn for a disrobing of this elusive man who keeps putting his suit on again and again. If these lyrical verbiages are not resonating, that is because you weren’t there or you weren’t listening and that is just too bad. Make your excuses. “It’s summer in the Twin Ports! There is too much going on!” or, “I didn’t get enough rest this winter!” 

Well, I agree and neither did I. Just put your jorts on and enjoy this brief and glowing time. And also have good boundaries because it is only mid-June and we must make it all the way together as one whole unit. 

As the suit was being put on, I stepped out the front door of the Cedar for some fresh double rainbow-infused air. Completely miraculous and certainly not hailing, the sun came through here and there, lit the underside of billowing dark clouds and we danced. The sound carries out the front door quite well. I may integrate more outdoor dance breaks as summer proceeds and the front door remains propped open for our pleasure. 

After a few days of good boundaries and reclusion because one cannot be in all musical happenings of the Twin Ports at once, I went south to the Rugged Spruce for Minorbirds. 

Jim and Colleen Mryhe have indeed cultivated a warm and welcoming, rugged and sprucey family space. The intermittent moisture of the northland this June has dampened a lot of outdoor music potential, but adjustments can always be made. 

We got cozy indoors as the Minorbirds graced us with their spooky tendrilous harmonies. People really truly listened. They sang of marriage and all its ebbs and flows, feet on the damp earth and the sanctity of the elements.  

There was a Gillian Welch tune or two. Sigh. Oh, sweet Gillian. 

Colleen dropped in for a few three-part harmonies to round out the depths of the bucket collecting blessed droplets of “gypsy folk” that the Minorbirds pour out. I am quoting because two or three or maybe even four individuals have described them as such. It’s somebody’s quote, not mine. 
Listen to their newest album Body Knows. The growth of a prickly thistle blossom and roots spread beneath ground on the album cover depicts their effervescence fabulously. I had a burger with not one but two extra pickles. This is how it’s done. 

Solstice is here. We are called to embody the reflections of ourselves that are quite visible in the present landscape. There is blooming. Blossoming is over. We are in full bloom. We are in full force. Fully force yourself to make space for these earthly pleasures and light filled days. You are the earth, double rainbow, rain and billowing clouds. Take the suit off. Listen. Present and upcoming bloomings include and are not limited to the following: Saltydog’s Pepper, the anticipatory return of Babie Eyes (I don’t know when so don’t ask and don’t tell), tolerable dips in now somewhat temperate Mama Superior, Concerts on the Pier and basil.