Happy 67th B-day plus 1, John!
“Now Elvis had a woman …
With a head like a rock.
I wished I had a woman …
That made my knees knock.
She’d sing like an angel …
And eat like a bird.
And if I wrote a song …
She’d know ever single word.
There’s a big old goofy man …
Dancing with a big old goofy girl.
Ooh baby …
It’s a big old goofy world.”
John Prine- “It’s a Big Ol’ Goofy World”
“The kettle’s on the boil,
Lord, the night is almost gone.
The fire is a-dyin’ down,
and I’m tryin’ to write this song.”
“The Highway Callin'”
Sit back and give a good, close listen to this live wire of a live album of Fred J. Eaglesmith’s songs about the living and the dead- whether in heart, mind or soul- and you’ll be damn grateful he opened a vein in pain to let loose this bracing bunch of songs … these tales from his musical root cellar of growin’ up in the open farmland of Ontario, Canada.
It was his American debut twenty years ago next month, for about a hundred of us soundly stunned listeners in a tiny, suburban Detroit church choir room- but let me be very clear that these, fatally true country blues birthed north of the border … speak loud and very clear to anyone, anywhere with an open heart to the struggles of others- even if you’re never planted seed, raised cattle or been to a rodeo.
It’s just a pack of straight shootin’ songs- cracked, detail-packed, a bit sweet ’til gone bitter, story-stacked … a view into the small gains and oft’ permanent, soul slaying pains … of Fred’s people from the plains.
And on this special night of razor sharp, raw and rowdy, quietly shocking and even rocking sounds … Fred’s mates The Flying Squirrels- the now sadly late, master and so moving mandolinist Willie P. Bennett, and solid bassist Ralph Schipper, earned my huge respect for their instrumental and vocal harmonic contributions … professionals and pals perfectly pitching in for the concert cause.
As to them truth-telling voices, the opening acapella three-part on “(He’s got a heart made of) Yellow Barley Straw” alone flat out flattened us that night … it just ain’t for the faint of us still runnin’ on our red, flesh-and-blood organs.
On the “odds stacked against us” side of relations with the fairer sex, just be real still and hear Fred’s achingly blunt “ain’t fooling no one but myself” confessionals, “I’m Just Dreamin”, or “My Last Six Dollars”.
And go ahead, close your your eyes and hear it from each side of that personal picket fence- a bridge too far battle in the stillness of “Summerlea” … and the wild young ones in the ridin’ high, yet still lonesome sound stakes of “Rodeo Rose“- on a lifetime loser to the law, and a lifetime loser of a maw.
As Fred’s family were losers of their farm when he was a teen, sending him train-hoppin’ across Canada … the heart-breaking songs here make it clear the crops lost and financial drops cost are just the tells … of the inner bells that toll louder, and kill the prouder of the growers, once lowered.
A few of the stake-in-the-soul, sown-and-blown, down on the farm ‘ers … “Thirty Years of Farming”, “Sunflowers” and “Go Out and Plough”. Hear ’em and either you get it, or you don’t.
After Fred tells his tale of him and his siblings crowded in front in his Dad’s five-ton, with cattle crowded in back … the really rough-on-the-ears, rocky road rhythms of “Rough Edges” … leaves far more than mere scratches on your soul.
Fred gets the last word here …
“The whistle wails, the trains roll on
“I guess I’ll go back to where I come from …
to where my daddy sits, on a little porch,
on a little farm, in a little town that they call Jericho.
He always told me, son, you should know,
The walls always tumble down just when you’re sure they won’t.”
“Jericho”
To get your own copy, and get to know some new old friends, go to
Folks, unlike on the cover of his album of the same name … I capitalize his four self-labels in my caption, since Michael on Fire (MOF) just plain out don’t do nuthin’ musically small at all.
Whether he’s softly singing and strumming, or wailing and slashing guitar strings with all his weight … is irrelevant … he just goes balls-to-the-wall when he plays for one and all … thankfully, MOF just don’t know any other way.
My hearty fellow- paisan and native Detroiter- … is just one of them musicians who seemingly explodes his songs on stage- always unrehearsed, unabashed and unbowed … and lets the chips fall in our heads and hearts where they may.
After 40 years of putting himself out there across the world, now using a California base … am embarassed to say I just was smacked in the soul with MOF’s music early this year, as he opened for pal Billy Brandt, at an intimate church/house concert gig in Livonia, MI.
After soaking in his energy, as he roamed the wooden stage, rocking on his guitar, wild curls tossed back over his army jacket … he then retreated to a piano off to stage left. He just tore us all up, as he humbly, softly played piano and dedicated to Billy’s dying mother and his own seriously ailing niece … “Thank You For Today (for all those times you never heard me say)”. Talk about reminding one what’s really important.
He’s done many albums over the years, after cutting his teeth in highly regarded Detroit bands like jazz/fusion group Prismatic (didn’t always get their power as a non-musician, but recall the sheer talent) … and country rock pioneers Old Buck.
His albums … with their variety of soully strong, historically, wildly worded songs, shot thru with his potent vocal passion and urgently executed instrumental backing by his friends-in-arms … all are truly meaningful sonic snapshots in time- he wrote, played and sung ONLY what he wanted to do that musical moment- dig it or don’t, but MOF has never let his pilot light go out … that internal flame keeps him trying to jump higher and higher. Ain’t no accident, that album title, “Keepers of The Flame”.
And when not off traveling the world, seizing solo gigs at house concerts or various venues … MOF’s backed by a strong, natural country outfit out of his Cali base. To testify a bit to their talents, they’re prone to be abducted by a certain “crazy-hearted” actor and country musician for easy traveling, moonlighting duty out on the road. Have heard them backing both MOF & JB … first rate fellas one and all, able to bring it back home … all that down home sound.
Just a couple notes on a couple of his very musically noteworthy recent releases-
on “Live from London”, MOF gathered some new friends with UK and Irish ties … and they all just cut some killer, unrehearsed live takes on his soaring songs. He headed across the pond to find the old country’s ties that will always bind them with our “new” country’s so real, rocking and reeling roots music. I brand this boldest of cultural collaborations in sound … loosely and lovely dangerous– only hurts if it’s first time you’ve taken your sad ears outta the mundane musical box.
Back home in a Detroit studio last year- an almost hellish wintry period including a power outage- “Cadillac Ranch” (nuthin’ to do with The Boss auto ode) was birthed by MOF on all instruments … a rich sounded, oft-romantic but not rose-eyed remembrance of The Motor City and really America’s glory days … as well as a sharp shout out to awaken our sleepwalking selves, and once more at least try bringing back a great land of the free.
As you might’ve gathered by now, Michael on Fire plys his craft larger than life, of course … living out his songs on stages for us all … and in essence, daring us to love life as he does … work till our own dreams come true, and just maybe enlarge our own little lives.
Anyone who’s heard his music at all, or sees MOF play anywhere … must humbly thank him for that gracious gift.
Now go catch a spark with Michael on Fire at …
http://www.michaelonfire.com
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Michael-on-Fire/243920222693
There is no band I know of that’s so lovably crazy and deeply talented than the Django-dipped, driving folkestra ensemble, The Luddites. At 2013 Detroit Metro Times Blowout at Como’s in Ferndale, I was Ludditized- for sadly only the first time, I saw mesmerizing diva Lisa Goedert and the veteran boys in the band practically destroy the Upper Room … and make a big group of new dancing disciples. Listening now to their most recent album, “Twisted In” (BIG bonus points for “Where Y’ At” Nawlins love) … so much Euro drama and sugar and spice and everything- both rhythmically and melodically- nice. So am asking the recording establishment, in its rubble- why ain’t someone giving this natty, note-worthy brazen bunch the promo they’ve earned in 20 years of gigs in the Music Capital of the Midwest?
But now like me you have no excuse, so everyone get hip at http://www.theluddites.org or Facebook https://www.facebook.com/TheLuddites
TimMusic- “I don’t fear the words and sounds … just try holding them close to my heart” 