Andrew Peterson's Ragamuffin concert live recording - some thoughts

Last time I was on an airplane I started playing the live recording of Andrew Peterson’s Rich Mullins Liturgy, Legacy concert at the Ryman, found myself choked up after the first song, and decided I didn’t need to sit sobbing on an airplane. Yesterday I was on an airplane again and decided heck, let’s give it another try. Short version: there were some tears, some rocking out, but hopefully nobody on the plane was too frightened by me. But let’s explore the long version.

First, just background: nine (!) years ago, Andrew Peterson put on a big concert at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville to commemmorate Rich Mullins and his rich legacy of music and faith. I managed to attend it, and it remains the best concert I’ve ever been to. They did a live recording at the time, but apparently the quality of some part of it was sketchy. Finally last year they did a Kickstarter to fund cleaning up the recording and releasing it digitally and on vinyl. (I have the vinyl still sitting at home waiting to be played. Soon.) Listening to it yesterday was the first time I’d heard those performances since experiencing them live back in 2017. I have two streams of thought I want to write about. First, in this post I want to just dig in with some thoughts on the music itself after revisiting it. Next I want to explore a little bit why these songs and performances are so meaningful to me personally.

Some general technical thoughts

OK, so first just general technical thoughts on the recording. It sounds great. The mix is good, the various instruments come through clearly (no small feat given the size of the band on stage), the re-recorded strings sound native, and the crowd mix is employed appropriately. (It was an amazing crowd. They knew all the songs and participated in all the right places. Goosebumps.) The only production question I walked away with was what Jeremy Casella does different in his own recording than was in place at the Ryman. Somehow on this live recording he doesn’t sound as much like him as he does on his solo recordings or usually does live. I dunno, I’m not a sound engineer.

Revisiting the concert itself

The concert lineup was so well thought out. Opening with Hello, Old Friends. Getting Awesome God out of the way early. Doing the artist round of favorites in the first half. Insisting on the note-by-note performance of the Liturgy, Legacy album in the second half. Starting the second half of the show with the same studio chatter that exists at the beginning of the original album. (The crowd’s reaction when they hear it: so joyful, so excited. The shared love and joy between the musicians and the audience at that specific point is almost overwhelming even in my memory here as I type this post.)

The performances in the first half are all so solid - no surprise given the artists - and almost entirely faithful to the originals. Jill Phillips notably adapts Cry the Name from 3/4 into 4/4, and Matt Giraud adds some amazing Marc Cohn-esque vocal riffs to Elijah, but otherwise, really you get the feeling that these artists grew up and were formed so significantly by Rich’s songs to the point that there was no concievable way to perform them other than just do what Rich did. And it was amazing.

Then I wanna talk about the band. You knew going in that they would be good - Andrew Peterson, Gabe Scott, Ben Shive, Andrew Osenga, Paul Eckberg, I forget who on bass… I have listened to the Liturgy, Legacy album countless times over the past 30 years. It’s one of those I legitimately know note-for-note across almost every instrumental part. And as I listened closely through the live recording, I was still astonished how closely the band nailed it. Osenga had all the electric guitar riffs dialed in. Shive’s piano parts were perfection. Maybe even more impressive (though it shouldn’t be surprising) was Paul Eckberg’s drumming. The drums on Liturgy, Legacy are involved, and Paul didn’t miss a beat.

Anyway…

If you’re a Rich Mullins fan, this live recording is well worth your time. I am so thankful first to have been able to attend the concert back in 2017, and secondly to now have the recording available to revisit.

Fans with Bands

I went down a little bit of a YouTube rat hole the other day watching a playlist full of videos where musician fans of big artists get pulled up on stage to play with the band. It started here:

twitter.com/CaseyNewt…

Which in the replies led me to this playlist:

Some of them are a little too obviously pre-planned - the 11-year-old who magically ends up on stage with Carrie Underwood has her own YouTube channel with 30,000 followers - but most of them are genuinely delightful.

For instance, this one where a teenager joins Bruce Springsteen on stage to sing “Growin’ Up”:

Or the college kid here who boldly asks Billy Joel to sing “New York State of Mind” while the kid plays the piano, and proceeds to win Joel’s grudging respect:

But hands down, the winner in these has to be anybody singing the “For Good” duet with Kristen Chenowith. There must be a dozen of these on YouTube. And why not? It’s a beautiful song, just challenging enough to let a good vocalist shine, some nice harmonies. And Chenowith is a generous performer, encouraging her amateur counterparts, guiding them along through the song, and seeming to genuinely enjoy the experience. Here’s an example:

I think I love these so much because you see momentary flashes of the true joy of making music together, and you get reminded that while a lucky (and very talented) few make it big, there are talented musicians everywhere who could, on a given night, step in and hold their own with their favorite band.

As a musician myself you can bet I’ve had idle daydreams where I was in this sort of scenario myself. But even though I’d give my eye teeth to do the Behold the Lamb of God Christmas show with Andrew Peterson and gang, it always seems uncharitable to wish that Ben Shive would break his hand and need an impromptu replacement. (But if he ever does, Andrew, give me a call, eh?)

A night with Bruce Hornsby’s brain

Last Friday night my wife and I had the opportunity to go hear Bruce Hornsby play a solo show at the Paramount Theater in Cedar Rapids. Hornsby is an interesting character - a fantastically talented pianist who has made his fame and fortune in rock and jam band genres, but who has made multiple bluegrass records with Ricky Skaggs and drops classical music into the middle of pop tunes.

When I first heard Hornsby’s stuff probably 10 years ago, I quickly recognized that my own piano styles and harmonizations aren’t too far away from what he plays… to the point that it was almost uncanny. So the chance to see him play in person was not one I was going to pass up.

Hornsby’s current tour is just him with a microphone and a piano (a Steinway concert grand), but with those two tools he commanded the stage for just over two hours. He set the tone by starting the concert with his biggest hit, “The Way it Is”, into which he dropped a long improvisatory section, morphed it into a couple minutes of a Bach something-or-other, and then morphed it back into the close of the song. Later on in a jam section he dropped in an avant garde ‘perpetual motion’ piece by American composer Elliott Carter. Even if he did spend the majority of his years with The Grateful Dead, the dude has serious piano chops.

When we got to our seats on the right-hand side of the theater, my wife lamented that we should’ve gotten seats on the other side so she could see his hands as he played. And I get the fascination with seeing those fingers fly over the keys. But for me the fascination was entirely a mental one.

To sit in the auditorium and engage with Hornsby’s brain as he improvised long sections was an amazing experience. I’m not a jazz player, but I hear and read jazz players talk about listening to and interacting with other jazz players, and after this Hornsby concert I finally think I understand what they’re talking about.

When you really understand the playing technique, the harmonies, the nuts and bolts of the music, then you can start to engage at a deeper level - the progressions, the expression, the choice to go around again or branch off somewhere new… it’s really quite a head trip.

I’d love to see Hornsby play again - preferably with a band next time, to experience all of those interactions. Playing good music in a talented group is a intellectually pleasurable exercise for me almost as much as a musical exercise. Sitting in the audience last weekend wasn’t as good as being in the band, but it got pretty close.

Andrew Peterson and Friends: The Ragamuffin Album, Live at the Ryman

Last Sunday night I had the privilege of attending an Andrew Peterson-organized and -led concert honoring the legacy of Rich Mullins at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville. Peterson and his cadre are roughly my age, and we share a deep debt to Mullins, who in his all-too-short musical career penned songs that showed that Christian music could be artistic, poetic, and honest in ways we hadn’t before seen. (Andrew wrote an essay for the concert booklet telling his Rich Mullins story that’s well worth a read. It’s posted on The Rabbit Room.)

This year is the 20th anniversary of Mullins’ death in a car accident, and served as an opportunity for Peterson to round up his friends and prepare the music. The Ryman was packed to capacity with an audience that clearly loves Rich’s music just as much as the musicians themselves do; the concert was punctuated with opportunities for the audience to sing along, starting from an impromptu acapella chorus of “Awesome God”, which Peterson led “just to get it out of the way”. (While it’s perhaps Mullins’ best known song to the general public, it’s certainly not his favorite among his more devoted fans.)

Peterson and friends followed a concert format that he has perfected over years of touring his Behold The Lamb of God Christmas tour. The first half of the concert rotated in each of the guest artists to sing a Mullins song of their choice, with AP sneaking a few of his own choices in along the way.

When we hit intermission I told my wife that I couldn’t think of another Rich song that I was disappointed that they hadn’t played in the first half. The set list:

  • “Awesome God” - AP
  • “Calling Out Your Name” - AP
  • “Boy Like Me/Man Like You” - AP
  • “Hard to Get” - Andy Gullahorn
  • “Cry The Name” - Jill Phillips
  • “What Susan Said” - Andrew Osenga
  • “The Howling” - Jeremy Casella
  • “Screen Door” (complete w/ cups) - Brandon Heath & Mitch McVicker
  • “You Did Not Have A Home” - Finnegan Bell
  • “Elijah” - Matt Giraud
  • “Buenos Noches from Nacogdoches” - Leigh Nash
  • “Bound to Come Some Trouble” - Mitch McVicker
  • “If I Stand” - AP

The second half of the concert brought each of those artists back out in turn to perform note-for-note versions of each song from Rich’s masterpiece A Liturgy, A Legacy, and a Ragamuffin Band. A string section played the original string charts as provided by Rich’s producer Reed Arvin (who himself was present and played the piano on “Creed” midway through the second half).

To my critical ear they were indeed almost exactly note-for-note and lick-for-lick. Gabe Scott had his hammered dulcimer skills tested and found awesome. My specific criteria for this evaluation was the little turn from the second verse into the pre-chorus of “Peace” - there’s a drum fill, a bass slide, and a little guitar riff that come together in a sublime little moment that I’m probably the only person in the world who cares about. They nailed it. The only place they diverged was I think they gave Andy Osenga an extra couple choruses to play a smoking guitar solo on the end of “How To Grow Up Big and Strong”… but ain’t nobody gonna complain about that.

The second half setlist:

  • “Here In America” - AP
  • “Isaiah 52:10” - Jill Phillips
  • “The Color Green” - AP
  • “Hold Me Jesus” - Brandon Heath
  • “Creed” - AP, Andy Gullahorn, and Jill Phillips
  • “Peace” - Andy Gullahorn
  • “78 Eatonwood Green” - Gabe Scott on the hammered dulcimer
  • “Hard” - Finnegan Bell
  • “I’ll Carry On” - Jeremy Casella
  • “You Gotta Get Up” - Leigh Nash
  • “How To Grow Up Big and Strong” - Andrew Osenga
  • “Land of My Sojourn” - AP

Even they they weren’t quite done. Peterson brought the full cast of musicians out and led the (now standing) audience in “Step By Step” (with guest vocals by Peterson’s daughter Skye) and the call-and-response of “I See You”, which itself leads back in to one final chorus of “Step By Step”. After some final applause, Peterson did his trademark exit, singing the first line of the Doxology, and then exiting the stage as the audience finished singing it. (1200 people singing the Doxology in the old Ryman auditorium: chills.)

Hearing so many of Rich’s songs in one sitting highlighted both the artistry and prophetic nature of his lyrics. For instance, the last few lines from “Hard”:

I am a good midwestern boy
I give an honest day’s work when I can get it
I don’t cheat on my taxes, I don’t cheat on my girl
I’ve got values that would make the White House jealous

Peterson wondered aloud (perhaps just as much as he dared) whether Rich had any idea those words would still resonate so loudly 25 years after he wrote them. But the lines that stood out even more loudly to me were from “Land of My Sojourn”:

And the lady in the harbor
She still holds her torch out
To those huddled masses who are
Yearning for a freedom that still eludes them
The immigrant’s children see their brightest dreams shattered
Here on the New Jersey shoreline in the
Greed and the glitter of those high-tech casinos
Some mendicants wander off into a cathedral
And they stoop in the silence
And there their prayers are still whispered
And I’ll sing their song, and I’ll sing their song
In the land of my sojourn

The list of concerts I’ve attended isn’t as long as I’d like - and shorter thanks to the U2 concert in St. Louis getting cancelled last weekend - but Sunday night at the Ryman has to be right up there at the top of the list. Peterson posted on Facebook the next day that it might have been his favorite concert ever. I’d be inclined to agree with him.

A Valentine's Eve Win

Last night my wife and I went to see Jim Brickman in concert at the Paramount here in Cedar Rapids. This is the second time we’ve seen this age-defying (the guy is over 50 and looks about 30!) pianist perform, and I have just a few observations:

  • To my ear, he played three wrong notes the entire evening, all of them before intermission. (Impressive, given the ridiculous number of notes he plays)
  • Either his piano is waaaaay too bright or he plays everything too loud. His performance has very little sense of dynamics. Everything starts at a solid forte and ends up somewhere around fortissimo.
  • The guy never stops using the sustain pedal. He mentioned during the concert that he only took a few classical piano lessons, and that all he ever wanted to play was pop music. If he’d taken a few more classical lessons, a good teacher would’ve beat some better pedal technique into him. As it is, his sound is uber-muddy.
  • The dude has the most dramatic arm movements as he finishes a song of anybody I’ve ever seen play. Were I to try to do a parody, I think all I’d need is a few chord structures and those arm movements and I’d have it nailed. Might have to try it sometime.

OK, so I’m just a cranky pianist who shakes my head at the popular success of a guy like Brickman. It’s gotta be kinda weird to be able to say (as he did last night,) “this is the song that you’ll hear if you go to the kiosk at Target and push on my face”.

But hey, it was a nice night out, my wife was happy, and we both agreed at the end of the evening that we’ve probably heard enough of Jim Brickman for a while. I’ll call that a Valentine’s Eve win.

Today I did something I've never done before...

I bought two tickets to a big rock-and-roll show.

I’ve been an Arcade Fire fan for a few years now, but have never seen them in person. This morning their advance ticket sale went live for their 2014 tour, and after a quick consultation with Becky, I bought a pair.

Minneapolis. March 8. Happy early birthday to me!

And yeah, I bought General Admission Floor tickets. Because if you’re gonna go to a big show, why do you want a chair in a fixed location if you can instead be down on the floor?

Also: many thanks to Becky for being agreeable. She’s not a huge Arcade Fire fan, and not always one for big shows. Hopefully she’ll enjoy this one.

An equation of insanity

So back in my Caedmon’s concert post, Daniel commented that he found the length of that road trip to see a concert “insane”. Being the nerd that I am, I decided an “equation of insanity” would be appropriate. (Geof’s equation of motivation was an additional piece of inspiration.)

So, without further ado, the equation:

I = (d+t)/qL

Where

I = relative insanity of the trip d = distance traveled to the concert t = time that trip took q = quality of the artist you are going to see L = length of the concert.

Of course the tricky thing here is that the q value will vary between persons, so just because you think my trip is insane doesn’t mean that I will agree with you. Also, by including not only the distance of the trip but also its’ duration, trips like Geof’s planned flight to Philly aren’t as insane as if he were to, say, drive to Philly.

There’s also the issue of theoretical insanity versus actual insanity. For instance, my trip to see Andy O’s The Morning release show theoretically should be much more insane because of the distance to Nashville, but in actuality the concert was so awesome that the real insanity level was much lower.

Note to Becky, my Mom, etc: Yes, this really just means that I am a huge nerd. Not exactly a revelation. :-)

Putting on the miles

The lengths I will go to hear a concert? Well, this weekend the length was 300 miles, each way. Lincoln, Nebraska ends up being, with short stops, about a five-hour drive. Well worth it to see Caedmon’s Call in concert again. First I should extend thanks to my mom for coming down to watch the girls for a couple of days. They had lots and lots of fun with Grandma, and it was sure a blessing for Becky and I to be able to get away.

Three hundred miles to Lincoln on Friday morning was broken up with P. F. Chang’s for lunch in Des Moines. It ended up being a good thing we ate a big lunch, because we never did get supper eaten, unless you count the McDonalds cheeseburgers we picked up from the drive thru around 11 pm while on our way to see Andy Osenga’s post-show set. After checking into our motel (very decent for the price), we headed down to the church where they were playing to hang out, take pictures, and watch the sound check. Everything was running late enough that once sound check was over it was almost time for the doors to open… so we ended up just staying there the whole night. Between Derek Webb, Caedmon’s, and Andy Osenga, the concert went a full three hours. Lots of fun. I’ve written up a full review with pictures over on caedmonscall.net.

After the Caedmon’s show, we trekked over a couple miles to Grace Chapel (a little PCA church in a neat old church building) where Andy Osenga did another half-dozen solo songs. It was fully midnight by the time that was over, and then we were headed back to the other side of Lincoln to our hotel. What a day.

The drive back home was rather uneventful, unless you count seeing multiple cars sliding off the road (not already in the ditch, but actually actively sliding into the ditch) as eventful. Made it home in one piece. Took most of Sunday to catch up on rest. In the end we drove about 750 miles for the weekend. Now, I’ve driven further to see concerts, and have seen better concerts, but overall it was great to hear Caedmon’s again, to be able to take Becky along (her first Caedmon’s show!) and to have a weekend out.

David Wilcox at CSPS

Last night Becky and I experienced a couple of firsts: 1) going to a concert at CSPS in downtown Cedar Rapids, and 2) hearing David Wilcox perform. I’ll take them in that order, but the first will be brief.

CSPS is a pretty cool music venue; an arts gallery and concert stage built into the upper stories of an old warehouse building. The performance area is an intimate setting - no more than 8 or 9 rows of chairs on hand-built risers, right up near the little stage. It’s designed to seat about 150, and wow, it works well. I was thinking how much fun it’d be to get any one of several Square Pegs in there… hmmm… I’ll have to keep that in mind. Anyhow, pretty sweet venue.

Then we got to hear David Wilcox. This was my first experience hearing David, though I did find myself familiar with a few of his songs that have been covered by Billy Heller singing down at Brewed Awakenings. David’s first set was broadcast live on KUNI radio as part of their regular “Live from Studio One” show, which I think rearranged his setlist a bit from what he’d normally do in a concert, shifting most all of his more popular songs up front. Still, he played two great sets of songs, just him and his guitar. And quite a guitar player he is, using lots of open tunings and capos to marvelous effect. His songwriting, though, is what really shines; the phrasing and ideas of songs like Three Brothers and Show the Way just rise above the lyrical skill you usually hear from, well, about anyone. I was very, very impressed.

As I sat through the show I kept trying to decide who Wilcox reminded me of. Vocally he sounds a bit like James Taylor, but without the annoying nasal tone that Taylor has. Heck, Wilcox can really sing. And then when I was just about done being impressed with his voice, breaks out some falsetto on the last song that was just amazing. Visually, put a scruffy beard on him and give him a cane and I’d be reminded of Dr. Greg House. There were times I was reminded of CCM artist Chris Rice, except that Wilcox reaches a level with his songwriting that Rice has never hit. I guess I don’t quite have enough words to say, or, as his one song said, I really can’t tell of the places I’ve been. Sometimes you just have to have been there. Thanks to Nick and Allie for inviting us along for a great night.

Entering the Whirlwind

I feel like I’ve been in it for a few days already, but I know there’s still more to come this week.

Friday afternoon I drove four hours to Omaha to see Andy Osenga in concert at a little place called The Foundry. It was a great show, fun to see Andy again and visit. There was a 7:00 Saturday morning elder meeting scheduled at church, so I had to turn around and head back home right after the show. What I did learn from that experience was that the right combination of diet pop, sweet tea, Red Bull, and candy will keep me wide awake on a four-hour drive in the middle of the night. Good to know.

Saturday was the aforementioned meeting and then time at home to catch up a bit - cleaning, spending time with the family, watching some of the Final Four on TV. Also watched a pretty cool SciFi channel miniseries that I’d TiVo’d back in December called The Lost Room. Becky even enjoyed it. Good stuff.

Sunday morning I led music for both services, then we had an afternoon elder meeting, then the church’s annual meeting in the evening. Thank the Lord most of that stuff is done with for now.

Now it’s Monday morning, and I’ll be at work for a few hours before heading home, eating lunch with the family, and then flying out to Salt Lake City for a quick trip for work. I’ll be back home on Wednesday night.

Friday morning I get off work (Good Friday) and so we are taking the girls up to my folks’ place for the weekend. The girls will have fun seeing Grandma and Grandpa again. By the time I get back home on Sunday night, well, I’ll be ready to be home for a while. :-)

Welcome to the Whirlwind. It’s a wild ride.