An Evening With David Lindley in Campbell River BC

An Evening with David Lindley in Campbell River BC
Last night Debra and I attended a concert in Campbell River. We don't go out
here. Life is pretty simple. I was just back on my feet (sort of) after a lung
infection. We have had these tickets for a while. We last planned to see David
Lindley on Long Island and planned a trip on the Harley down to see him with
John Hammond Jr. Then, the house sold in Crystal Beach and we had a month
to find a new home so we didn't go.
Last night we went.
It was a really big deal. Anyone who knows Lindley knows he is the consummate
musician. Talented, off-the-wall, possessed of improvisational skills that are
beyond belief.
We went for dinner at a sushi joint in the old part of town. Shopped for all the
essentials that are hard to get in Gold River. Got Emma a bone to enjoy while we
were in the concert.
The venue was huge. It is a 435 seat theatre owned by someone called Art Deco.
I think he is a cousin of Art's Lunch in St. Catharines. There were probably 300
people in attendance so we had our choice of seats. We were dead centre and the
3rd row back. After living in Gold River for almost 2 years being surrounded by
300 other people felt like Christmas Eve by Holt Renfrew in Toronto.
Lindley had a fancy light show set up. Two red floods on each side bracketed by a
blue and a yellow with a single white spot over his seat on stage. The sound
system was gigantic. Three speakers over the stage that were about the size of
what I had in my bedroom back in the 70's.
The theatre said the artist did not want any photographs taken during the
performance. I took one of the set before the show so it would be stuck in digital
memory.
The road crew came out about 10 minutes before showtime. He was an old guy
about my age. He carefully lined up the finger picks and slide bar just so and
loaded the instruments for the performance in the long rack at centre stage.
These were three Weissenborns of different sizes and tunings, an Irish bazouki
and a Turkish Oud.
A guy wandered out at 7:30 and said a few kind words about David Lindley then
wandered off stage left and out came David. He was clad in polyester from head
to toe except possibly for his shoes. They looked like they were azure blue fake
crocodile patent leather. The pants were stretchy red white and blue with
possibly some yellow and green buried in there. The shirt he wore was a dark
blue with some form of geometric design. I think it provided some needed accent
to the pants. It was like watching the test pattern on TV after the station went off
air.
He's old! Bags under his eyes just like me! Musically that is where the
commonality ended. He said the usual things about the border that American
artists say when visiting here then went into a rap about a Saskatchewan farmer
he had read about who was squared off against the GMO corporations. He knew
all the details and rapped about Percy Schmeiser at length including the details of
a phone call he had with him. It turns out David Lindley doesn't like GMO foods
and corporations very much.
All the while he is talking and he is tuning and warming up on a Weissenborn
about the size of an aircraft carrier. The sounds were tantalizing. He was teasing
out long slow bluesy sounds. The bass string had a deep rich tone that filled the
room with warm earthy tones. Later in the show he shared the technical details
of the strings construction including the maker. I suspect the room was full of
guitar enthusiasts since everyone listened quietly and respectfully. All I know is
when he plucked that string it was like he reached inside of me and plucked the
main string of consciousness.
We were graced with two 45 minute sets of beauty, artistry and humour. This guy
is a riot. He's a story teller par excellence. It never sounded like the repeated
patter of a hundred shows on just another night. Each line was delivered
personally like he was talking just to me in my aluminum foil walled music den
back on Tecumseh Street.
The musical meandering moved from the slow bluesy warm up into a beautiful
cover of Warren Zevons The Indifference of Heaven. He explored slow blues,
boogie, honky tonk, with no trips down through past repertoires. It was all new
stuff and totally engaging. I could go on about artistry and talent. I won't. It
would be presumptuous to think my words could adequately portray a master
class by a master.
Oh yeah! Did I mention? He sat on an equipment box left over from his band El
Rayo. It was a small black thing with the shiny metal corners used to store
microphones and effect pedals on the road.. He had one of those round cloth seat
cushions to sit on like Mom used to have in the '57 Chrysler.

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