Kansas City Missouri music is not going south in the sense of failure.
Quite the opposite from my humble observations. The “original music” scene in
town is rich and interesting. I hear musicians discuss the possibility of
taking the music south to Johnson County Kansas.
Johnson
County has money. In the city, musicians receive compensation for fuel and a
personal pan pizza. There is no one epicenter in Kansas City for the music
scene, but the choices of venues to see musicians perform their original music
appear to me to dwindle. My perspective may not have the history you possess.
Perhaps, over the long haul, the process rolls along naturally. Venues with a
space-in-time individuality.
Could
people in Johnson County connect with original music? Possibly, over time.
Musicians
and their music cannot connect alone. They need help, starting with a venue or
two; places willing to take a leap of more than faith. Music scenes,
historically, center on a venue. A bar may come to mind. And that’s the problem
for a Johnson County dream. I don’t think a bar will work. The Johnson County
context doesn’t include bars.
When
in college, I frequented the Towne Crier Café in Beekman New York. The place opened in the colonial
era Beekman Hotel for music in 1972 when I was a freshman. The Towne Crier
moved to Pawling in 1988.
The
Towne Crier Café did not serve alcohol. Great coffee, I remember, in
those expresso pots. Delicious pies, cakes, and cookies. Music was the
centerpiece. At the time, I didn’t appreciate the richness of the place and the
people. One night I shared my sugar bowl with Rick Danko of the Band. Saw Pete
Seeger in the audience once. Smoke breaks listening to Levon Helm on the front
porch between acts. Libations and fragrant smoke across the street. This was what it was, a few years before that Last Waltz film. It was a
time, but no more interesting than the people and the music scene I absorbed last night at the
recordBar.
That
sort of place, where people play and celebrate music without all the deep
fryers, alcohol spigots and vessels, catsup bottles and salt shakers could fit
in a rural-ish suburb setting like Johnson County. In fact, it would work well
just on the edge, where the burbs meet the diminishing prairie out in the
140s. Interesting things usually happen on edges. The old Town Crier was on an
edge at that time, just before the canonization of the Woodstock folks, and the
blessing of the farmland, site of the muddy fest now part of legend.
No comments:
Post a Comment