Tab Benoit will provoke some frenzied boogie and Sonny Landreth will put on his Louisiana slide show.Īt the WUMB Music Fest in Beantown, perennials such as Susan Werner, Vance Gilbert, Buskin and Batteau and David Mallet are joined by newer acts like Pesky J. However, there are some wicked guitar licks that will expand the proceedings. The presence of Geno Delafose & French Rockin’ Boogie and Nathan Williams and the Zydeco Cha Chas get that point across. We hear that blue margaritas will play a central role in conveying recollections of Jack.Īside from all the national touring acts who appear on the main stage, there are hundreds of aspirants who gather around the campfires to share their songs and listen and learn from those who’ve worn out more car tires than Avis and Hertz.Īt Michael Arnone’s Crawfish Fest, you’ve got to figure that Cajun and Zydeco dancing will be a big part of the festivities. Camp Coho was the stomping ground for the late Jack Hardy. There are too many to point out, but some other favorites include Michael Smith, Brother Sun, Jonathan Byrd, Susan Werner and Cheryl Wheeler. Our April feature, Martyn Joseph, is dropping by to give the Texas crowd a sample of a Welshman’s world-view. It’s at a ranch and three weeks long … how appropriate for a Texas festival. The Kerrville Folk Festival, as usual, corrals the biggest herd of singer/songwriters. Speaking of genre-busting, let’s not leave out Ani DiFranco. We haven’t seen them yet and we’re looking forward to watching them work together. Red Horse with Eliza, Lucy and John are making the rounds. The Appel Farm Arts & Music Festival presents the always fascinating, genre-busting Josh Ritter. Blossoms on trees and a riot of bird calls herald her arrival. Our own wishes to plumb the depths of his wisdom on these pages will go unrealized, but we will join others in carrying on his legacy however we can.Īs of this writing, spring has finally arrived. We mourned him and did our best to memorialize the man. Master singer/songwriter Jack Hardy left us, felled unexpectedly by lung cancer. On the 11th of that month, fate crept in and dealt another cruel blow. For the first time in many years, the longing for summer hit me hard, smack in the middle of the big freeze.Īs winter receded, it still held the month of March in its grip. Laid low by an extended bout of bronchitis, I felt the accumulation of almost seven decades on the planet. This author, normally grateful for usually mild New York winters was also caught off guard. The street-clearing response improved, but the city’s residents grew winter-weary. One trade-off was that motor vehicle owners like me were treated to a three-week reprieve from doing the alternate side parking waltz.
More storms hit and cars were left buried for the longest stretch in memory.
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