Old Music in New Hall
Johnnie Ward's band at Ladd's Inn, April 15
by Melody DeVault
It's called a jug band. This particular group of players is 7 in number, with acoustic guitar, steel guitar, kazzoo, harmonica, mandolin, upright bass, fiddle, washboard, jaw harp and 4 men singing standars like On Top of the World and Don't You Lie To Me.
The bar is Ladd's Inn, on 12th and Clay. A few years ago, when I did my stint of sucking down greyhounds and playing pool here, there was a much different crowd. Gone are the coke deals, under-aged drinking, and vibrant energy of invincible youth. The new owners knocked down a wall, put in a couple of couches, but kept most of what the past few owners had contributed. The carpet, paint, neon signs and hanging lamps are still here. The pool table, the small dance floor are still here, but they're occupying the same spot of floor, where the fireplace once was. What's new is the style of music being played in this room, and the maturity of the audience. The music floats somewhere between blues, bluegrass and barbershop quartet.
Johnnie Ward and the Eagle Riding Papas are playing at Mock Crest Tavern (3435 N. Lombard St.) every Tuesday night, but have recently started playing in other venues. The seediness of this particulart tavern matches the pre-war, delta-blues style sound perfectly. Talking to Klaus (vocals, guitar, harmonica, jaw harp) about it, he proudly states that all the songs are about sex and drugs and betrayal. On the surface, these songs may sound innocent by todays standards, but the spirit that flows through the generations between these men and the hillbillies who first started interpretting this set of songs carries an air of debauchery and moral ambiguity more sincere than any of today's young artists.
Maybe that's what engaes the room so much. In the front is a group of people who, I assume, are friends of the band members.  They're middle-aged and conspicuously sober. Few of them are able to last through both sets, but they all wear their weathered years as proof that this isn't their first time out on the town. They're all smiling.. In the back of the room are the hipsters. The 20-somethings who haven't figured out this music just yet. Old as dirt, it's new to them and speaks to the desire to find life and passion in the past, perhaps compensating for some vacancy today. It's like antique store furniture, record players and old soap ads. Part souvenir, part badge of cool, but very largely genuine approval and enjoyment of what is, in its most basic element, foot-stomping good music.
www.mockcrest.com/index.jsp
www.cascadeblues.org/NWBlues/JohnnieWard/JohnnieWard.htm |
