First I must say that this concert on the whole was for some sort of a woo woo crowd, a SoCal-local/NW-hipster/upstate-NY crowd. Robben Ford lives in Ojai, California and if that isn’t enough said, then I can’t really help you much more with a description. It was a short show at Tacoma’s own Jazzbones. With a full bar on the left upon entrance, the floor of tables and bench-booths faces a small, shallow stage. But not to worry, dancers! There is always four to five feet between the stage and the first line of tables, enough room to groove and boogy all evening. Lucky for show-goers, there is also a second level, with a small bar and a few rows of tall tables, often reserved for parties. The author of this article and guest were comfortably snuggled into the farthest corner in the dark, with a remarkably decent view of two very fine performers.
Danny Godinez’s sound reminds me a lot of those chakra albums, not only because of his manipulation of vibrations but also because I felt an instant and obvious sense of relaxation at his first notes. It’s the kind of music you want to wake up to. Like the chakra albums there was a growth to Godinez’s sound, a sense of leaving from somewhere and heading into a new, fresh place. His first piece seemed to be about discovering his sound from the inside out. Quite literally. He sang along to his guitar melody with the back of the guitar up to the mic, his mouth at the guitar’s belly hole. At first I thought this took away from his performance because I knew he wasn’t making up the guitar on the spot if he was singing along. I wasn’t convinced that he could adlib on guitar and vocals simultaneously. But when I stopped watching (largely because there was a 50+ year old’s head in my way) and just listened, the more I discovered Godinez’s ability to capture sound by it’s barest thread and expose the rawness of music. His other piece had more of a melody to it, and if there was such a thing as a morning lullaby, this was it. It was soothing and relaxing, but also refreshing. Keeping with the chakra sound I felt more inspired, more awake and more convinced of his sound the longer he played. I was sad to see him leave the stage.
But then Robben Ford took the stage in a Product Red t-shirt (“inspi(red)”), dark jeans, and seriously kick-ass black cowboy-esque shoes. And when he started playing, it wasn’t just that he was wearing a red shirt, and not just that he was wearing a red shirt under a red light, but I would believe that he sold part of his soul for the blues. Hot damn that man can play. Not to mention he has LA’s Gary Novak on drums and Travis Carlton on bass. The trio knew their instruments abilities and just how their bodies ought to use them. These musicians all made me want to start being a musician again. Suddenly I missed singing and pretending to play the guitar and, well, I never played drums or bass but always wanted to pick up both.
I heard that Eric Clapton was driving in his car at the peak of his own career and he heard Ford, then himself in his early twenties, on the radio. Supposedly, Clapton said in an interview later, that it was at that moment he new he himself would never be that good. I am no authority to say so but this is just an example of the caliber of Ford’s guitar skills. Forget nunchucks, Napoleon, the guitar is where it’s at.
Watching Novak was a bit like watching a horse’s tail swat at flies—his shoulder seemed to know just how to manipulate his arm, which knew how to manipulate his wrist, which manipulated the drum stick so perfectly the drum set begged for the contact. (This is not to say that the author believes flies beg to be swatted by horses’ tails. No flies were injured in writing this review). And a word about Carlton: he can take that bass for a walk that would make Uno the beagle tuck his tail, and “ar-oo” no more.
