By: Katie Bratsch
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Charlie Parr - Photo by Peter Martin
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I finally made it out to hear Charlie Parr last Thursday at The Nomad after missing many opportunities to catch his Tuesday sets at The Kitty Cat Club. All summer, I had been listening to Parr’s recent King Earl, trying to visualize this singer whose voice seems to carry as many different characters as his intricate stories. I became familiar with Parr's slide guitar sound and his solid, steady foot stomping, which drive his songs like a locomotive. King Earl's 13 tracks took me along to dark places and hard times, but Parr's music was even more poignant at Thursday's show than it had been for months over ipod earbuds or car speakers.
Charlie Parr plays varyingly blues, country, folk and rock-n-roll. He names among his influences The Smithsonian Folkways Anthology of American Folk Music, Charlie Patton, John Hurt, Bukka White, Spider John Koerner, Dave Van Ronk, Jack Rose, John Fahey, and My Two Toms. I would've guessed Johnny Cash and Bob Dylan, too. And, indeed he paid tribute to both of them and more in the three plus hours he was on stage. He played 2 solo sets; one with Dave Simonett of Duluth's non-traditional bluegrass band Trampled By Turtles; and then finished with the full Trampled by Turtles lineup. This night of music covered the spectrum of energy, from contemplatively unplugged to veritable shack shaker. By the end, the band and the audience were both in full swing, and the floor WAS shaking.
As it began, though, I didn't know exactly what to expect. I settled into one of the church pew-like booths against the wall at the dimly lit and mellow Nomad Pub. I was one of the first ones there; but it is the kind of place to wander into early and stay late. It's comfortable, in the tradition of the old West Bank.
Parr began by saying "this one's for RL Burnside," the great Mississippi bluesman who had died just a few days before. He sat alone on the stage, sliding his fingers along the silver strings of his big National resonator guitar, stomping out the beat with his soft, worn work boots and singing his stories with the inflection of the old bluesmen -- his voice rising and sliding with the guitar and trailing off at the end of a line.
He switched to banjo for the next song, which he dedicated to his deceased father. I had talked to him before the show, and he told me "every song I've ever written has something to do with my father and his influence on me: telling me stories, showing me music, being an honest person." I also learned that Parr had worked for a long time with the homeless in the Twin Cities and in Duluth, where he now resides. He said many of those experiences are reflected in his songs.
What struck me most while watching Parr play was his craftsmanship. He uses his instruments, his voice and even his shoe in such a precise way, that it is mesmerizing to watch. Though, he is not a bit showy, wearing comfortable Saturday afternoon clothes and his wire-rimmed glasses a little low on his nose. He has a gentle way with his music, which pretty starkly contrasts the hardened things he sings about -- people living and dying on the streets; the tracks, the docks, the bus stops; wrecks, graves and devils; miners, sailors, dealers and murderers. But, the way he so compassionately delivers the stories in his songs raises these people above their unfortunate circumstances, giving them life somewhere else.
There were a few songs in particular that stuck out for me. The first was the ballad "King Earl", a story about a man trying to stay alive out in the cold streets, when a liquor store owner murders him for taking shelter in his doorway. The harrowing refrain is "I ain't done nothin' wrong, but I can't get up from down. I'm on my way back home, but I've got nowhere to go." Another was "Worried Blues", with Parr's driving and sliding guitar and his lighting quick picking. Also, there were "1922 Blues" and "1917", both ripe with the spirits of long ago souls headlong in tough times on the farm and in the mines. Then there was the fun, upbeat "West Bank 10 String Rag", which Parr segued into by saying "I lived in a big gray boarding house behind The Mixed Blood Theatre for a while. This is about that place." The song came alive, and you could just about see those boys rocking and picking on their front porch. Until, as the song goes, some drunken party guests smash old Dan Happe's guitar in the front yard, and so he sings the refrain "Well, I ain't got no baby now."
The show gained momentum as the bar filled up with a stomping and singing crowd. The Trampled by Turtles guys, who had finished their own show earlier at The Cabooze, joined Parr on stage for the last hour or so. They wrapped it all up in 3 rapid fires, including Parr's own powerful "Possessed by the Devil", followed by raucous covers of Dylan's "Highway 61" and Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues."
I left with a full and happy head, and I'll now look forward to Charlie Parr's upcoming CD Rooster, due out early October. The CD release is scheduled for Sunday, October 2nd at the Turf Club.
Location Info:
Nomad World Pub
Artist Info: Charlie Parr, Dave Simonett, Trampled by Turtles
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