I Heard it Downtown

So a few days ago, me and Blake headed back to Granville for the annual Hot Licks Bluefest. If the Granvillle Street Fair is the best event in downtown Granville, then the Bluesfest is certainly right behind it. Downtown Granville is closed down all day, and replaced with a beer gardens, food stands, and of course, a huge stage hosting master bluesmiths melting faces all day. Plus, the whole thing is free. Clearly, my kinda event right?

I hadn’t been back to Granville for any real length of time in almost a year, and haven’t really *lived* there for 3, but that didn’t stop every third person from stopping me and wanting to catch up. Granville is one of those “Main Street Americia” towns, where everybody knows everybody. Sometimes the smallness of the place was terribly aggravating to me (like when it was Friday night in high school and I had run out of ideas for things to do like, 4 months ago), but the community togetherness is very comforting to me now. Its a great feeling knowing that I could knock on every 4th door in town and say “Hi, I’m Matt Brown. I’m Regina’s son/Maya’s Brother/that drummer kid. Could I crash on your couch tonight?”, and know the answer was prob. going to be yes.

Plus, blues festivals just seem “homey” to me, even when they aren’t being held on that same little familiar stretch of pavement where I grew up. The blues community is full of my kind of people…its a warm, friendly atmosphere, full of smiles, the smells of familiar, delicious food, and of course, fedoras. I will always feel at home with a crowd of people in cool hats.

After I had made the rounds with some old family friends, I made my way over to the Columbus Blues Alliance tent. The CBA is a non-profit organization that helps manage the blues community in Columbus, and was absolutely instrumental in promoting Aces High, the blues band I used to play in. I walked over to see if I could get a replacement “Got My Mojo Workin’” bumper sticker, since mine was starting to fall apart. I was a little surprised by what happened next.

“Hey, I remember you. Aren’t you in that local blues band here? Aces something?”
“..yeah, Aces High. I used to be their drummer!”
“…used to be?”
“…Well…yeah. I got jobs in Arizona and DC, and they needed a replacement.”
” DC huh?…buddy, you went out and got straight jobs. Are you becoming a square?”

This sent me reeling like I had been blindsided by a Mike Tyson knockout punch. I was becoming a square! It wasn’t just the increased responsibilities of growing up that scared me, it was the slow abandonment of the things that made me cool. The second I sold that drumset and went to work for the Federal Judicial Center, I traded in my fedora and sunglasses for a power tie and an ID badge. Thats responsible…but it isn’t cool. Huey Lewis was wrong. It isn’t always hip to be a square.

I left the CBA booth feeling a tiny bit bummed…and nearly walked right into Sean Carney. Sean is the frontman for the critically acclaimed Sean Carney Band, a blues group out of Columbus that now tours the world. Sean is actually a Granville native, and we opened for his band several times in Columbus. Me and Sean caught up for a little bit, and then he dropped this little bombshell.

“After the festival, me and a lot of the other musicians are going to jam at an afterparty at Brews (the neighborhood bar).  You and Blake ought to come up and join us.”

Who could turn something like that down? A chance to temporary relive my rock star dreams, and with the finest musicians in three area codes? Thats like Brett Farve asking you if you want to hang out after the game and play a little catch. We agreed, and went back to catch the last act of the festival.

And guess who the headliner was? The regal and legendary James Cotton himself. Mr.Cotton was the harmonica player for blues legends like Muddy Water and Howlin’ Wolf, and is pretty much considered the gold standard for harmonica playing everywhere (yeah, even more than John Popper). What is he doing in my tiny excuse of a hometown? I mean, Granville isn’t even on every map!

James Cotton is a seriously old dude. Me and Blake weren’t 100% sure he was alive (wait, so does the James Cotton band just tour without James Cotton now?), and he needed a hand to get to his chair to start his set. But man, he can still make some serious soul come out of a Harmonica. His tone was finely aged and sophisticated, like maybe his amp smoked a few cigarettes and had some bourbon before the set. A throat problem had left him basically unable to speak, let alone sing, but ol’ Superharp didn’t need to…every note, every thought, every expression was coaxed out of those 10 holes with ease. Seeing a true blues legend practice his craft with the familiar backdrop of Granville behind him was absolutely one of the coolest things I have ever seen.

After Cotton finished his set, me and Blake headed over the Brews, Granville’s neighborhood bar. As you all might imagine, I’m not typically a big fan of the bar scene. The other thing puts me a big social disadvantage I think. Its too loud to properly tell a joke or a story. I’m not drinking, and everybody knows I can’t dance. Whats left? Play Foosball and drink my ginger ale I guess.

But not today! No, today I would be back behind my drums like I belonged. Sean and his band played a brief 5 song set, and then called me and Blake up to sit in with an “All Granville Band”.It was me on drums, Blake on the Harp, another old granville jam-circuit friend on the bass, Sean on guitar, and a man dressed head to toe in a bright red pimp suit on the other guitar. I need a suit like that.

I hadn’t played drums since Febuary, I was a terrified that my skills atrophied drastically…but after the first min. or so, muscle memory and pure emotion took over. I’m not linguistically talented enough to properly express the cleansing feeling of making music after a long hiatus. I had forgotten how comfortable and righteous it is to bang out 2 and 4 behind a face-melting guitar.

Blues, at its most basic level, isn’t a genre about sorrow…its music of redemption. It isn’t just I didn’t get up this morning but, I’ll get tomorrow and the sun will shine. It isn’t just my baby girl done left me , but Maybe I’ll find love somewhere tonight, where I don’t expect it. I am down now, but tomorrow will be a better day.

And thats exactly what this experience was, pounding and filling away with great musicians and old friends. Maybe the whole square thing is just a cover. Maybe I can still be cool.