You are using an outdated browser. Please upgrade your browser to improve your ReverbNation experience.
Living room atmosphere with blues
210131207 Charles M. Mailer , musician, body and soul, playing with "The Sunhill Palace Band" at Disharmonie Schweinfurt, Germany
He calls it rightly “living room atmosphere”: With the five musicians and at least twice as many instruments it is something cozy on Saturday at the “Disharmony”. No problem for the blues singer and pianist Charles M. Mailer , who’s brought "The Sunhill Palace Band" as support into the boat or on the stage. Nor for the audience, who listen spellbound, clap along , stomp with their feet and sing along . This is due to Mailer the frontman, who’s leading through the program with a powerful voice. Secondly, the talented band, whose members dominate their instruments with such virtuosity that is no doubt in seconds: It is a good evening for the “Disharmony”.
It starts with a little quip : "It could have been so beautiful today ," Mailer sighs , " but then “The Sunhill Palace” have decided to perform here with me". He grins mischievously and suggests at the same moment a conciliatory tone. After all, the band is a "really damn good looking men chapel ". Then the first blues number follows - and the audience is captivated.
In addition to the distinctive voice of the singer Mailer there are also influences from different genres that make the concert a musical experience: the specially composed pieces of the thoroughbred musician inspire with the combination of classic blues, garnished with influences of soul, rock, country and reggae . Typical for the genre Mailer processed fate and personal experiences in his lyrics. The repertoire spreads from the song " Friends" , which tells of false friends , to the semi- autobiographical piece " She's gone": The song tells the story of a professional musician , who returns home one day and discovers that his key no longer fits and the packed suitcase is standing outside the doorway. Driving resistance of the story is of course a "friend", Mailer says with a wink.
But the lyrical melancholy does not ruin the mood. Mailer sings not only the soul from the body . He snaps his fingers , stomping their feet to the beat , asks the audience to clap along to and is working his flesh from the bone. Thanks to her own individual style Charles M. Mailer & The Sunhill Palace Band are making cover versions of "pearls" of blues and music history as their own. The audience explained to Disharmony Choir sings loudly to "Got My Mojo Working". At the latest on "Flip, Flop & Fly" it keeps Mailer no longer on his seat behind the electric piano. The flat cap upside down on his head he swings his legs and jumps off the stage into the audience rows.
It is really difficult not to be carried away by the six thoroughbred musicians. It has quickly proven for the above- mentioned "Men chapel " that it is much more than that - Ernst Luksch convinced on drums as completely as Gawlas Thomas on bass. Martin Vogel plays keyboards , guitar and synthesizer. Most applause he harvests for his violin solo in the Country version of " Rollin 'and Tumblin ' ". And even with the trickiest handles Kai Hetzel proves technical perfection on guitar again and again. But another one was the favourite of the audience on Saturday: saxophon player Vladimir Strecker. He blowed out his lungs and played in the hearts of the audience until his veins were standing on his forehead.
December 2014, the ensemble will return at the Disharmony.
The Rock’s Backpages Flashback: Thoughts On Woodstock, 'The Ultimate Rock Festival' by Barney Hoskyns
"It was too big," says one old local shopkeeper of the festival that turned his town upside down in August 1969. "Too big for this world..."
The question now is: is Woodstock still too big for the world to comprehend and contextualize? It remains the defining assembly of rock's half-century lifespan, an unprecedented gathering of at least 300,000 young, longhaired, raggedly-clad Americans "going up the country" in New York's Catskill's mountains, searching for answers, hoping for transcendence... and finding what, exactly?
The most famous song about Woodstock was, of course, written by someone who wasn't there. So were the 300,000 "stardust" and "golden," in sister Joni's lovely phrase, or were they exhausted, hallucinating inhabitants of a middle-class disaster zone? Watching Michael Wadleigh's original 1970 documentary--and all its enhanced 40th anniversary extras--will probably have you concluding that the truth lies somewhere in between (unless of course you were there, with your own unreliable memories to share).
There is much euphoria and jubilation on offer here--and sundry musical delights--but there are also telling echoes of footage from the Vietnam war: helicopters and medical tents, young men looking dazed and confused, the muddy chaos of it all. And of course Vietnam hangs over the event like a shroud, infusing everything from the mess call that follows Wavy Gravy's famous breakfast invitation to Jimi Hendrix's ceremony-closing deconstruction of "The Star-Spangled Banner." One of the most significant interviews in the whole film is with the jovial Port-a-loo guy who has one son in 'Nam and the other at the festival itself.
Coming two years after Monterey Pop signaled that rock was destined to do big open-air business, Woodstock is still "the big one," even if 1973's Watkins Glen drew significantly more people to upstate New York and on the strength of just three bands (the Band, the Grateful Dead, and the Allman Brothers). Woodstock is where the overheated rhetoric and psychoactive disturbance of the 1960s hits fever pitch, with Altamont as its wretched aftermath just four months later.
....to be continued
David Ackert - LA Times, wrote:
"Musicians are some of the most driven, courageous people on the face of the earth. They deal with more day-to-day rejection in one year than most people do in a lifetime. Every day, they face the financial challenge of living a freelance lifestyle, the disrespect of people who think they should get real jobs, and their own fear that they'll never work again. Every day, they have to ignore the possibility that the vision they have dedicated their lives to is a pipe dream. With every note, they stretch themselves, emotionally and physically, risking criticism and judgment. With every passing year, many of them watch as the other people their age achieve the predictable milestones of normal life - the car, the family, the house, the nest egg. Why? Because musicians are willing to give their entire lives to a moment - to that melody, that lyric, that chord, or that interpretation that will stir the audience's soul. Musicians are beings who have tasted life's nectar in that crystal moment when they poured out their creative spirit and touched another's heart. In that instant, they were as close to magic, God, and perfection as anyone could ever be. And in their own hearts, they know that to dedicate oneself to that moment is worth a thousand lifetimes."
The head of a six-piece band is asked, "What do you billing me, if you play at my wedding?" "2000 euros," says the musician. "How much?" asks the customer. "For MUSIC only?" "Listen," said the musician, "Call for six plumbers and ask them if they could work on Saturday from six clock in the evening until one in the morning in your home - and 300 miles to your house and back - whatever they demand in wages -. We play for half amount -Is this an offer? "