Simone Felice never fails to deliver. Erstwhile drummer in the eponymous band he formed with his brothers, he now leads his own band, the Duke and the King. “Leads” is perhaps the wrong word though – I’ve seen few bands that are more democratic than D&TK. Where else would you see the singer take over on the drumkit so the bass player and drummer can sing? Or see the singer and drummer dance together while the violinist and bass player take centre stage?
D&TK, too, have taken a step beyond the kicking country sounds of the Felice Brothers. The country roots are still there, but the band incorporates soul and funk as well – most obviously when drummer Nowell Haskins takes lead on a cover of Sam Cooke’s ‘A Change is Gonna Come’.
While their records are good, it’s live that the D&TK shine. Their joy at playing together, indeed just at being alive, is obvious (earlier this year Simone came through surgery for a life-threatening heart condition, something which adds a poignant intensity to lyrics like ‘If You Ever Get Famous’ (“I say a prayer for your heart”) and the cover of the Felice Brothers’ ‘Radio Song’ (“please don’t you ever die/ever die/ever die”).
It’s a joy that the audience shares: the first time I saw D&TK was at a festival: I’d decided to check them out for a few minutes before seeing Shearwater, who were one of my ‘must-see’ artists of the festival. Five minutes into the Duke and the King’s set, my girlfriend and I turned to each other: “we’re staying here”, “yep”. This time around, the highlight is the audience participation on the traditional set-closer: Neil Young’s ‘Helpless’. As the song winds down, the audience begin singing the chorus, quietly at first, but gradually louder and louder, and Haskins improvises a call-and-response “let me hear you know”, “sing from deep down in your soul now” in reply. Truly magical.
Four people: black and white, male and female, playing soul and rock and roll and country and psychedelica with love and joy. It really doesn’t get much better than this. Every time I’ve seen The Duke and the King (this is the 4th) they’ve been magical, and every time they’ve played to a bigger crowd. Word of mouth is clearly paying off – take my advice and go see them, you won’t regret it.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Thoughts on recent shows, new material
When you see the same band so many times over a period of 4 years, the songs, the shows start to blend together, your ability to spot the exceptional, is muted, and I suppose you can lose your connection to the songs. I feared this might happen, as The Felice Brothers rolled into my area this month. The band is presenting new material for an upcoming unnamed album, for a yet to be named record label.
Sure, the band is playing a lot of older songs as well, including slightly altered versions of "Greatest Show on Earth", and "Marie".
The best part of these shows are the new songs, specifically "Fire on the Mountain", with it's catchy chorus, and great harmonies, "River Jordan" which begs to head "back to the sand", and is chopped in half by Ian's punkish wail to "Fuck the News, fuck the House of Blues, fuck my whole career",
"Ponzi" is replete with rhythmic changes, Greg Farley, bouncing all over the stage playing virtually any instrument in sight, finishing by pounding the floor Tom. "Stepdad" is a reminder of how far (Christmas) has come as a songwriter and more impressively, as a performer. "Better Be", the Greg Farley ode to his Gramps, with it's beautiful reminiscence of his last days with his elder, sounds like a hit record.
"Dance Hall" is another fantastic piece sung by Christmas, with it's catchy "ain't it good to be back again" and featuring Greg Farley and Brendan Sheehan on trumpet.
The kids in the audience are really responding to the new stuff, bouncing all about, during "Fire on the Mountain", "Ponzi" and "River Jordan"
Perhaps the finest moment of these recent shows was the return of the older song "Got What I Need", to the setlist. James Felice is a gifted performer and a very soulful singer who emotes so beautifully the lyrics of this number. Probably written at the outset of the idea of "The Felice Brothers", the song, probably semi autobiographically details the pain, dissapointment and trancendence of the burly keyboard player with a big heart. When singing this line, I felt he was in that moment years ago, living in his car, knowing there was more, but appreciating the blessings around him;
against an old oak tree
a river by my side
ain't got no money
sleep in my car at night
but i don't mind
no it don't bother me
cause i got what i need
The one disappointment I might have is that there isn't new material featuring James Felice's writing and singing present. You can't have it all.
Judging by what I hear, and how the songs have progressed over the past several months and the messianic delivery of the new material, I think The Felice Brothers best work is ahead.
Sure, the band is playing a lot of older songs as well, including slightly altered versions of "Greatest Show on Earth", and "Marie".
The best part of these shows are the new songs, specifically "Fire on the Mountain", with it's catchy chorus, and great harmonies, "River Jordan" which begs to head "back to the sand", and is chopped in half by Ian's punkish wail to "Fuck the News, fuck the House of Blues, fuck my whole career",
"Ponzi" is replete with rhythmic changes, Greg Farley, bouncing all over the stage playing virtually any instrument in sight, finishing by pounding the floor Tom. "Stepdad" is a reminder of how far (Christmas) has come as a songwriter and more impressively, as a performer. "Better Be", the Greg Farley ode to his Gramps, with it's beautiful reminiscence of his last days with his elder, sounds like a hit record.
"Dance Hall" is another fantastic piece sung by Christmas, with it's catchy "ain't it good to be back again" and featuring Greg Farley and Brendan Sheehan on trumpet.
The kids in the audience are really responding to the new stuff, bouncing all about, during "Fire on the Mountain", "Ponzi" and "River Jordan"
Perhaps the finest moment of these recent shows was the return of the older song "Got What I Need", to the setlist. James Felice is a gifted performer and a very soulful singer who emotes so beautifully the lyrics of this number. Probably written at the outset of the idea of "The Felice Brothers", the song, probably semi autobiographically details the pain, dissapointment and trancendence of the burly keyboard player with a big heart. When singing this line, I felt he was in that moment years ago, living in his car, knowing there was more, but appreciating the blessings around him;
against an old oak tree
a river by my side
ain't got no money
sleep in my car at night
but i don't mind
no it don't bother me
cause i got what i need
The one disappointment I might have is that there isn't new material featuring James Felice's writing and singing present. You can't have it all.
Judging by what I hear, and how the songs have progressed over the past several months and the messianic delivery of the new material, I think The Felice Brothers best work is ahead.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Pawtucket RI 10/29 Setlist
Lou the welterweight
Fire mountain
Rise and shine
RunChix
Limo
Wonderful
Whered you get the lLiquor
Got what I need
Stepdad
River Jordan
Love me tenderly
Lady day
Ponzi
Let me come ohm
Marie
Stephen's End
Dancehall
Frankie
We should have pics, video soon.
Fire mountain
Rise and shine
RunChix
Limo
Wonderful
Whered you get the lLiquor
Got what I need
Stepdad
River Jordan
Love me tenderly
Lady day
Ponzi
Let me come ohm
Marie
Stephen's End
Dancehall
Frankie
We should have pics, video soon.
Mountain Stage Review
From Muruch Music Blog link
Mountain Stage’s October 17th concert featured Adam Haworth Stephens of Two Gallants, Lost in the Trees, Mollie O’Brien and Rich Moore, Alejandro Escovedo, and The Felice Brothers. I reviewed the show for a local newspaper, so I initially didn’t intend to write about it here. But I do enjoy rambling about good music, so here’s an expanded review with more details that pesky newspaper word count wouldn’t allow me to include…
A small but very enthusiastic crowd greeted Sunday night’s Mountain Stage performers.
During the standard pre-show announcements and applause rehearsal, host Larry Groce jokingly blamed the controversial John Raese ad for his casual attire.
For the first time in the show’s history, Mountain Stage engineer Francis Fisher didn’t condemn the audience’s first attempt at cued “spontaneous applause.” He actually said it was “ok.” Groce look visibly disturbed and I know I was! Thankfully, Fisher still requested the usual second practice session and all was well with the world again.
Two Gallants singer Adam Haworth Stephens gave the show a solid start with chiming, harmonica-accented songs from his folk-rock solo debut, We Live on Cliffs. The album features members of My Morning Jacket, Blood Brothers and Vetiver.
Stephens’ voice is similar to labelmate Bright Eyes and to be honest, he sometimes sounded like he was being strangled. But that didn’t matter, because his songs and particularly his Sufjanesque arrangements were grand. He promised at the beginning of his set that he was “gonna get gradually louder as the night proceeds” and he stayed true to his word. For a lil blonde indie guy, Adam Haworth Stephens sure put on a good rock concert.
Wheeling native Mollie O’Brien dueted with Mountain Stage singer Julie Adams on a Robert Randolph tune, and Adams later joined O’Brien and her guitarist husband Rich Moore on stage for their set.
Mollie O’Brien and Rich Moore were a big hit with the locals. After twenty-seven years of marriage, the folk duo has finally released their debut studio recording, Saints & Sinners. The album includes a wide range of genres, instrumentation, and musical styles. Whether singing their own original songs or covering classics by Tom Waits, Jesse Winchester, Harry Nilsson, and George Harrison, the supercouple liven things up with splashes of jazz, blues, gospel, and cabaret.
However, it was North Carolina folk orchestra Lost in the Trees that dazzled the crowd during the first hour with their enchanting, multi-instrumental circus. Their latest release All Alone in An Empty Houseblends folk and acoustic pop melodies with lush orchestral arrangements.
Larry Groce called the band “a cast of thousands” and not since The Low Anthem have I seen so many instruments on one stage. Horns, strings, an accordion…Lost in the Trees had it all.
Singer and accordion player Emma Nadeau’s haunting wail melted beautifully with the band’s string section and drove the quiet melody of their first song up to chill-producing heights. Other songs made fuller, more rhythmic use of the entire orchestra.
Composer Ari Picker charmed the audience by temporarily abandoning the radio microphone to “connect” with them before leading them in a pretty sing-a-long. Theirs was probably my favorite set of the night, which was quiet a feat considering the rest of the lineup. I urge everyone to see Lost in the Trees live if you have the opportunity.
Texan singer-songwriter Alejandro Escovedo and his band, The Sensitive Boys, kicked off the second hour. Alejandro Escovedo is a favorite in my household and I’ve reviewed several of his albums over the years.
A legend in the folk community, he was named “Artist of the Decade” by No Depression magazine and deemed “his own genre” by Rolling Stone. He counts among his more famous fans Ryan Adams, Lucinda Williams, Willie Nelson, Calexico, director Jonathan Demme and, to Escovedo’s consternation, former president George W. Bush.
Escovedo began his musical career as a punk-rock guitarist in the 1970s and his band The Nuns once opened for The Sex Pistols. He gradually moved through rock and country during the decades that followed before experimenting with a mixture of Americana, folk, and rock in the 1990s. Embellishing thunderous rock arrangements with delicate classical instrumentation, poignantly personal lyricism, and a heartfelt vocal style, Escovedo created his own beautifully distinctive sound.
Escovedo’s magnificent set was heavy on the noise, centering on songs from his recently released tenth solo album, Street Songs of Love. “Anchor” depicts love as a weight that may hold a person down, but also prevents them from drifting away. The instrumental “Fort Worth Blue” is a tribute to musician Stephen Bruton — a longtime collaborator of Kris Kristofferson and former Mountain Stage guest. Escovedo also played two songs co-written with Chuck Prophet: “Down in the Bowery,” which was affectionately inspired by Escovedo’s angry, punk-lovin’ teenage son, and “Always a Friend” from his previous release, Real Animal.
As the unofficial headliners of the evening, The Felice Brothers provided a fantastic finale. As I said in my review of their 2008 self-titled album, their music is “full of haunting beauty, wild tales, and eerie anachronism.” Their last two albums spanned American history from The Wild West to The Great Depression.
The band played several songs from The Felice Brothers album, including “Wonderful Life,” “Saint Stephen’s End,” “Love Me Tenderly,” and “Goddamn You, Jim” – during which James Felice played the hell out of his accordion.
They also played “Run Chicken Run” from 2009’s less impressive effort Yonder Is The Clock.
The Felice Brothers’ skilled musicianship, on-stage chemistry, and lead singer Ian Felice’s gritty, Dylanesque vocals made even the most somber of their songs an enthralling live experience.
Mountain Stage’s October 17th concert featured Adam Haworth Stephens of Two Gallants, Lost in the Trees, Mollie O’Brien and Rich Moore, Alejandro Escovedo, and The Felice Brothers. I reviewed the show for a local newspaper, so I initially didn’t intend to write about it here. But I do enjoy rambling about good music, so here’s an expanded review with more details that pesky newspaper word count wouldn’t allow me to include…
A small but very enthusiastic crowd greeted Sunday night’s Mountain Stage performers.
During the standard pre-show announcements and applause rehearsal, host Larry Groce jokingly blamed the controversial John Raese ad for his casual attire.
For the first time in the show’s history, Mountain Stage engineer Francis Fisher didn’t condemn the audience’s first attempt at cued “spontaneous applause.” He actually said it was “ok.” Groce look visibly disturbed and I know I was! Thankfully, Fisher still requested the usual second practice session and all was well with the world again.
Two Gallants singer Adam Haworth Stephens gave the show a solid start with chiming, harmonica-accented songs from his folk-rock solo debut, We Live on Cliffs. The album features members of My Morning Jacket, Blood Brothers and Vetiver.
Stephens’ voice is similar to labelmate Bright Eyes and to be honest, he sometimes sounded like he was being strangled. But that didn’t matter, because his songs and particularly his Sufjanesque arrangements were grand. He promised at the beginning of his set that he was “gonna get gradually louder as the night proceeds” and he stayed true to his word. For a lil blonde indie guy, Adam Haworth Stephens sure put on a good rock concert.
Wheeling native Mollie O’Brien dueted with Mountain Stage singer Julie Adams on a Robert Randolph tune, and Adams later joined O’Brien and her guitarist husband Rich Moore on stage for their set.
Mollie O’Brien and Rich Moore were a big hit with the locals. After twenty-seven years of marriage, the folk duo has finally released their debut studio recording, Saints & Sinners. The album includes a wide range of genres, instrumentation, and musical styles. Whether singing their own original songs or covering classics by Tom Waits, Jesse Winchester, Harry Nilsson, and George Harrison, the supercouple liven things up with splashes of jazz, blues, gospel, and cabaret.
However, it was North Carolina folk orchestra Lost in the Trees that dazzled the crowd during the first hour with their enchanting, multi-instrumental circus. Their latest release All Alone in An Empty Houseblends folk and acoustic pop melodies with lush orchestral arrangements.
Larry Groce called the band “a cast of thousands” and not since The Low Anthem have I seen so many instruments on one stage. Horns, strings, an accordion…Lost in the Trees had it all.
Singer and accordion player Emma Nadeau’s haunting wail melted beautifully with the band’s string section and drove the quiet melody of their first song up to chill-producing heights. Other songs made fuller, more rhythmic use of the entire orchestra.
Composer Ari Picker charmed the audience by temporarily abandoning the radio microphone to “connect” with them before leading them in a pretty sing-a-long. Theirs was probably my favorite set of the night, which was quiet a feat considering the rest of the lineup. I urge everyone to see Lost in the Trees live if you have the opportunity.
Texan singer-songwriter Alejandro Escovedo and his band, The Sensitive Boys, kicked off the second hour. Alejandro Escovedo is a favorite in my household and I’ve reviewed several of his albums over the years.
A legend in the folk community, he was named “Artist of the Decade” by No Depression magazine and deemed “his own genre” by Rolling Stone. He counts among his more famous fans Ryan Adams, Lucinda Williams, Willie Nelson, Calexico, director Jonathan Demme and, to Escovedo’s consternation, former president George W. Bush.
Escovedo began his musical career as a punk-rock guitarist in the 1970s and his band The Nuns once opened for The Sex Pistols. He gradually moved through rock and country during the decades that followed before experimenting with a mixture of Americana, folk, and rock in the 1990s. Embellishing thunderous rock arrangements with delicate classical instrumentation, poignantly personal lyricism, and a heartfelt vocal style, Escovedo created his own beautifully distinctive sound.
Escovedo’s magnificent set was heavy on the noise, centering on songs from his recently released tenth solo album, Street Songs of Love. “Anchor” depicts love as a weight that may hold a person down, but also prevents them from drifting away. The instrumental “Fort Worth Blue” is a tribute to musician Stephen Bruton — a longtime collaborator of Kris Kristofferson and former Mountain Stage guest. Escovedo also played two songs co-written with Chuck Prophet: “Down in the Bowery,” which was affectionately inspired by Escovedo’s angry, punk-lovin’ teenage son, and “Always a Friend” from his previous release, Real Animal.
As the unofficial headliners of the evening, The Felice Brothers provided a fantastic finale. As I said in my review of their 2008 self-titled album, their music is “full of haunting beauty, wild tales, and eerie anachronism.” Their last two albums spanned American history from The Wild West to The Great Depression.
The band played several songs from The Felice Brothers album, including “Wonderful Life,” “Saint Stephen’s End,” “Love Me Tenderly,” and “Goddamn You, Jim” – during which James Felice played the hell out of his accordion.
They also played “Run Chicken Run” from 2009’s less impressive effort Yonder Is The Clock.
The Felice Brothers’ skilled musicianship, on-stage chemistry, and lead singer Ian Felice’s gritty, Dylanesque vocals made even the most somber of their songs an enthralling live experience.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Setlist: Boston
Setlist 10-28
Lou the welterweight
Fire mountain (off the hook version)
Tenderly
Rise and shine
Mistletoe
Whiskey
Limo
Chicken run
Step dad
River Jordan
Fuck the news
Take this bread
Got what I need
Ponzi
St Stephen
Goddamn u Jim
White limo
Greatest show
Her eyes dart around
Dance hall
Helen fry
Lou the welterweight
Fire mountain (off the hook version)
Tenderly
Rise and shine
Mistletoe
Whiskey
Limo
Chicken run
Step dad
River Jordan
Fuck the news
Take this bread
Got what I need
Ponzi
St Stephen
Goddamn u Jim
White limo
Greatest show
Her eyes dart around
Dance hall
Helen fry
Long Live the Duke and the King: Review from Bock The Robber
Link
The second album by The Duke and the King arrives with the swagger of a band that is comfortable in its shoes and with a clear view of the road ahead. For those of us who had been following the progress of The Felice Brothers, the first album of Simone Felice’s breakaway project, “Nothing Gold can Stay”, reaffirmed the quality of Simone’s voice and his songwriting. It offered a restrained and “laid back” musical vision in striking contrast with The Brothers ramshackle country punk.
Although presented as a group venture it felt very much like a solo album. Here, on this glorious, uplifting work, The Duke and The King is a band and a truly great one. While the brothers have hitched their wagon onto the music and mythology of rural Americana, TDATK tap into the deep well of gospel and soul. Much of this influence can be attributed to the drafting into the band of Nowell Haskins and Simi Stone. Their voices and musical influences mix the country/folk of CSNY, James Taylor and Donovan(for God’s sake!) with the funky soul of The Isley Brothers and (dare I say it) The Jackson Five.
The aforementioned brothers (the Jacksons, that is) even get a name check on the Iraq war song “Shaky”. Here Simone laments the fact that the J 5 “grew up so fast” while his character is trying to escape the effects of that war through any pills or grooves that can be found. There is, as usual, a dark edge to the lyrics and at times we hear the world weary voice of a man who has recently had a close brush with death – Simone this year underwent open heart surgery. Yet, as in all Gospel music, there is hope and joy. As they sing in Right Now, “Pull back the curtains and open the blinds, And let the sun shine..”
Do yourself a big favour and treat yourself to this album, you will feel all the better for it!
The second album by The Duke and the King arrives with the swagger of a band that is comfortable in its shoes and with a clear view of the road ahead. For those of us who had been following the progress of The Felice Brothers, the first album of Simone Felice’s breakaway project, “Nothing Gold can Stay”, reaffirmed the quality of Simone’s voice and his songwriting. It offered a restrained and “laid back” musical vision in striking contrast with The Brothers ramshackle country punk.
Although presented as a group venture it felt very much like a solo album. Here, on this glorious, uplifting work, The Duke and The King is a band and a truly great one. While the brothers have hitched their wagon onto the music and mythology of rural Americana, TDATK tap into the deep well of gospel and soul. Much of this influence can be attributed to the drafting into the band of Nowell Haskins and Simi Stone. Their voices and musical influences mix the country/folk of CSNY, James Taylor and Donovan(for God’s sake!) with the funky soul of The Isley Brothers and (dare I say it) The Jackson Five.
The aforementioned brothers (the Jacksons, that is) even get a name check on the Iraq war song “Shaky”. Here Simone laments the fact that the J 5 “grew up so fast” while his character is trying to escape the effects of that war through any pills or grooves that can be found. There is, as usual, a dark edge to the lyrics and at times we hear the world weary voice of a man who has recently had a close brush with death – Simone this year underwent open heart surgery. Yet, as in all Gospel music, there is hope and joy. As they sing in Right Now, “Pull back the curtains and open the blinds, And let the sun shine..”
Do yourself a big favour and treat yourself to this album, you will feel all the better for it!
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Neil McCormick of Telegraph interviews Simone Felice
LINK
“It was scary, man, real scary,” says Simone Felice, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a long thin scar down the front of his chest, slicing through a faded tattoo. “I’m like the crocodile who swallowed the clock. When I’m by myself, and everything’s quiet, I can hear it ticking. My mechanical heart.” His name is pronounced Simon, by the way. The stray “e” in Simone was gifted by a grandparent, who thought it made the spelling more Italian. It’s the kind of odd detail that might pepper one of Felice’s own lyrical narratives.
One of the most striking talents in contemporary American music, Felice is a critically acclaimed 31-year-old singer-songwriter and novelist. The former drummer with roots Americana stars The Felice Brothers, he has been garnering recognition in his own right as the eloquent voice behind The Duke And The King. But he almost died on the eve of completing their latest album, Long Live (out now on Loose records).
“I had been losing energy, getting pains in my heart, trouble breathing,” says Felice, soft spoken with the hypnotic rhythm of a charismatic preacher.
“I had no insurance, but I have a cousin who’s a nurse and she spirited me into the cardiology unit. I just thought they were just going to say 'you need to eat more peas’ or something. They were listening to my heart and the doctor’s face went white. It was really bizarre. I was taken to a room where there were five doctors looking at a gigantic screen with a live picture of my heart, a sonogram, and one of them said 'there is no medical explanation why you are still alive.’”
The problem was brought on by a birth defect, which had been gradually worsening. “I was living off twelve per cent of my blood flow, that’s what they told me. I’ll never forget the moment they drugged me up and I was in the stretcher and I had to say goodbye to my mom and my dad and my lady, and they wheeled me away, and I watched the people who have been with me my whole life, the people who love me the most, and knew I might never see them again. Oh” Felice stops, and visibly shudders. “It’s really crazy. I feel different. I feel like I’ve been to the other side. I’m alive, breathing deep, taking every day like a miracle.”
Gaunt and handsome, Felice writes with a rich poeticism, recounting strange tales of hard American lives set to a musical tableau that merges the sweetness of acoustic singer-songwriting with more unlikely genres including glam, psychedelia and funk. In common with his sibling band, The Felice Brothers, there’s a strange but compelling mix of high and low culture in his work, a blend of the folky and the literary that has led to comparison with Basement Tapes era Dylan, itself recorded in the Catskills where Felice grew up. “Its the sound of those old mountains, the wind blowing, the scarecrows. We were close enough to the city that there was drugs and rock and roll, and ten minutes from Woodstock so we were in the shadow of all that wild stuff. I could ride my bicycle to the Big Pink (where The Band recorded with Dylan).”
Having published two haunting novellas, Goodbye, Amelia and Hail Mary Full Of Holes, Felice has completed his first novel, Black Jesus, to be published in the UK by To Hell Press next Spring. It is set in a fictionalised version of Palenville, the town where he grew up, the eldest of seven. “It’s a weird place, outstanding beauty and jaw dropping poverty, white trash and a public library, a trailer park next to a waterfall where Ralph Waldo Emerson used to hang out. When we were kids it was before the internet, thank God, and living in the mountains there was only a few things to do, listen to your boom box by the creek, smoke weed and read books.
There was a lot of reading, cause there was a lot of time. Long, long winters.” The Felice Brothers started out busking and slowly rose to become one of America’s leading roots bands. Simone left after four albums, because, he says, “I had all these songs in my head.” The brothers still contribute to each others recordings and live shows. The Duke And The King, however, rapidly took on another flavour, with an all-singing, multi-racial line up that has grown to include two former George Clinton collaborators and a female violinist. “I kind of get to be a bit of playwright and hear these great voices singing what’s in my head. We joke around and call it Fleetwood Black.” The band was named after characters in Mark Twain’s Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. “It’s a travelling floor show, river rats setting up Shakespeare with their pants splitting open. It’s theatre. I don’t just want a bunch of dudes backing me up, I want people right beside me, inspiring me, keeping me sharp as a singer and writer. I wanna be involved in stuff that feels supernatural.” The new album is more upbeat than last year’s debut, Nothing Gold Can Stay. “I guess I felt in a better place, it’s a little more jubilant.” When Felice’s principle musical collaborator, Robert “Chicken” Burke turned up to see him at the hospital, Felice urged him back to the studio to finish work.
“This could have been my last record. I was damn sure I wanted to make it a good one.”
“It was scary, man, real scary,” says Simone Felice, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a long thin scar down the front of his chest, slicing through a faded tattoo. “I’m like the crocodile who swallowed the clock. When I’m by myself, and everything’s quiet, I can hear it ticking. My mechanical heart.” His name is pronounced Simon, by the way. The stray “e” in Simone was gifted by a grandparent, who thought it made the spelling more Italian. It’s the kind of odd detail that might pepper one of Felice’s own lyrical narratives.
One of the most striking talents in contemporary American music, Felice is a critically acclaimed 31-year-old singer-songwriter and novelist. The former drummer with roots Americana stars The Felice Brothers, he has been garnering recognition in his own right as the eloquent voice behind The Duke And The King. But he almost died on the eve of completing their latest album, Long Live (out now on Loose records).
“I had been losing energy, getting pains in my heart, trouble breathing,” says Felice, soft spoken with the hypnotic rhythm of a charismatic preacher.
“I had no insurance, but I have a cousin who’s a nurse and she spirited me into the cardiology unit. I just thought they were just going to say 'you need to eat more peas’ or something. They were listening to my heart and the doctor’s face went white. It was really bizarre. I was taken to a room where there were five doctors looking at a gigantic screen with a live picture of my heart, a sonogram, and one of them said 'there is no medical explanation why you are still alive.’”
The problem was brought on by a birth defect, which had been gradually worsening. “I was living off twelve per cent of my blood flow, that’s what they told me. I’ll never forget the moment they drugged me up and I was in the stretcher and I had to say goodbye to my mom and my dad and my lady, and they wheeled me away, and I watched the people who have been with me my whole life, the people who love me the most, and knew I might never see them again. Oh” Felice stops, and visibly shudders. “It’s really crazy. I feel different. I feel like I’ve been to the other side. I’m alive, breathing deep, taking every day like a miracle.”
Gaunt and handsome, Felice writes with a rich poeticism, recounting strange tales of hard American lives set to a musical tableau that merges the sweetness of acoustic singer-songwriting with more unlikely genres including glam, psychedelia and funk. In common with his sibling band, The Felice Brothers, there’s a strange but compelling mix of high and low culture in his work, a blend of the folky and the literary that has led to comparison with Basement Tapes era Dylan, itself recorded in the Catskills where Felice grew up. “Its the sound of those old mountains, the wind blowing, the scarecrows. We were close enough to the city that there was drugs and rock and roll, and ten minutes from Woodstock so we were in the shadow of all that wild stuff. I could ride my bicycle to the Big Pink (where The Band recorded with Dylan).”
Having published two haunting novellas, Goodbye, Amelia and Hail Mary Full Of Holes, Felice has completed his first novel, Black Jesus, to be published in the UK by To Hell Press next Spring. It is set in a fictionalised version of Palenville, the town where he grew up, the eldest of seven. “It’s a weird place, outstanding beauty and jaw dropping poverty, white trash and a public library, a trailer park next to a waterfall where Ralph Waldo Emerson used to hang out. When we were kids it was before the internet, thank God, and living in the mountains there was only a few things to do, listen to your boom box by the creek, smoke weed and read books.
There was a lot of reading, cause there was a lot of time. Long, long winters.” The Felice Brothers started out busking and slowly rose to become one of America’s leading roots bands. Simone left after four albums, because, he says, “I had all these songs in my head.” The brothers still contribute to each others recordings and live shows. The Duke And The King, however, rapidly took on another flavour, with an all-singing, multi-racial line up that has grown to include two former George Clinton collaborators and a female violinist. “I kind of get to be a bit of playwright and hear these great voices singing what’s in my head. We joke around and call it Fleetwood Black.” The band was named after characters in Mark Twain’s Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. “It’s a travelling floor show, river rats setting up Shakespeare with their pants splitting open. It’s theatre. I don’t just want a bunch of dudes backing me up, I want people right beside me, inspiring me, keeping me sharp as a singer and writer. I wanna be involved in stuff that feels supernatural.” The new album is more upbeat than last year’s debut, Nothing Gold Can Stay. “I guess I felt in a better place, it’s a little more jubilant.” When Felice’s principle musical collaborator, Robert “Chicken” Burke turned up to see him at the hospital, Felice urged him back to the studio to finish work.
“This could have been my last record. I was damn sure I wanted to make it a good one.”
"Shaky" two times from Ireland for The Duke and The King
with pots and pans
and Lean on Me (Bill Withers cover)
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Winning Essay for Free Golden Ticket for DC Show
Below is an airtight case for why I am deserving of your ticket. But since the Felice Brothers are fairly awesome, and the accompanying demand undoubtedly pretty high, you’ve probably gotten a lot of these, so I’ll do you the favor of a condensed version, in case you don’t have time to read the whole thing. Basically, if you don’t want me to suffer a fate of extreme envy, coitus interruptus, boredom, blind masturbation, and general dejectedness, you’d be doing the right thing by hooking me up with that ticket.
Read on for more details and answers to your specific questions…
About me: I was born a poor black child…
No, not really. I’m a boring Caucasian, though I’ve passed for Peruvian, Egyptian, and even, somehow, Cambodian. I live in DC, edit a newspaper, and sometimes draw archetypal sketches while on drugs. I enjoy playing music, listening to music, feeling music, and moving to music, but I hate tasting music. (See below for more on my culinary preferences.)
I used to get a lot of free tickets to shows when I lived with the arts editor of the City Paper. Now I get my tickets through essay contests, mostly.
Why I like the Felice Brothers: Cause they enhance sexual performance
It was a dark and stormy night — dark because all nights are, and stormy because I was in Berlin, where it rained nearly every day during my two-month visit. I was in my bedroom with a girl I’d been seeing. We’d introduced each other to a fair amount of music: I’d shared a lot of alt-country with her, since the genre hasn’t really made inroads into Germany yet; she shared some crappy Europop with me, as well as the Dylan album “Planet Waves.” But I’d made the mistake of telling her that I’d recorded some songs with a few friends in their basement, and so of course she wanted to hear them. At this point, we were partially undressed, and I had some sense of the impending danger, but I went ahead and double-clicked the track at the top of the iTunes playlist with a few of our songs.
After about three seconds of listening, the disrobing resumed, and then the lovemaking commenced. It was the first time, to the best of my recollection, that I’d boned to the sound of my own voice/guitar-playing/harp-blowing/drumming. And it was very, very distracting. I tried hard to keep my mind on the task at hand, but I kept noticing mistakes we’d made and nice little guitar fills by my friend…. I could feel that I was overcompensating by wearing a look of intense (probably comical) concentration on my face. Eventually, when the music got around to Wilco’s “Via Chicago,” and everyone starting pounding his instrument at random during that weird entropy section, I lost it completely and had to give up.
BUT: I recall very clearly that the track during which I performed best was “Frankie’s Gun!” It’s attached for your listening pleasure. Please note that the recording quality is poor, and that I’m playing drums, which I do not actually play.
Why I deserve the ticket: Cause all the cool kids have ‘em
So, that track I gave you? All the other guys playing on it are going to the show. Seriously. I don’t know how I missed out. But don’t make me sit at home alone on Friday night, listening to “Adventures of the Felice Brothers Vol. 1,” masturbating in the dark, and waiting for the tears to come.
My favorite food: Spaghetti-Eis
My dad’s from Munich, and when I was a kid, we went there most summers to visit my grandparents. There was this cafe called Cafe Venezia (now closed) where my brother and I loved to hang out. Every time, we’d order Spaghetti-Eis, which translates roughly to spaghetti ice cream. They’d squeeze vanilla ice cream through a spaghetti maker and then top it with red fruit sauce and white chocolate shavings. I’d probably find it disgusting now, but back then it seemed pretty awesome.
If I could meet anyone in the world, it would be: YOU
On Friday night, ticket in hand. Pretty please with some red fruit sauce and white chocolate shavings on top?
(Taken from Washington City Paper)
Read on for more details and answers to your specific questions…
About me: I was born a poor black child…
No, not really. I’m a boring Caucasian, though I’ve passed for Peruvian, Egyptian, and even, somehow, Cambodian. I live in DC, edit a newspaper, and sometimes draw archetypal sketches while on drugs. I enjoy playing music, listening to music, feeling music, and moving to music, but I hate tasting music. (See below for more on my culinary preferences.)
I used to get a lot of free tickets to shows when I lived with the arts editor of the City Paper. Now I get my tickets through essay contests, mostly.
Why I like the Felice Brothers: Cause they enhance sexual performance
It was a dark and stormy night — dark because all nights are, and stormy because I was in Berlin, where it rained nearly every day during my two-month visit. I was in my bedroom with a girl I’d been seeing. We’d introduced each other to a fair amount of music: I’d shared a lot of alt-country with her, since the genre hasn’t really made inroads into Germany yet; she shared some crappy Europop with me, as well as the Dylan album “Planet Waves.” But I’d made the mistake of telling her that I’d recorded some songs with a few friends in their basement, and so of course she wanted to hear them. At this point, we were partially undressed, and I had some sense of the impending danger, but I went ahead and double-clicked the track at the top of the iTunes playlist with a few of our songs.
After about three seconds of listening, the disrobing resumed, and then the lovemaking commenced. It was the first time, to the best of my recollection, that I’d boned to the sound of my own voice/guitar-playing/harp-blowing/drumming. And it was very, very distracting. I tried hard to keep my mind on the task at hand, but I kept noticing mistakes we’d made and nice little guitar fills by my friend…. I could feel that I was overcompensating by wearing a look of intense (probably comical) concentration on my face. Eventually, when the music got around to Wilco’s “Via Chicago,” and everyone starting pounding his instrument at random during that weird entropy section, I lost it completely and had to give up.
BUT: I recall very clearly that the track during which I performed best was “Frankie’s Gun!” It’s attached for your listening pleasure. Please note that the recording quality is poor, and that I’m playing drums, which I do not actually play.
Why I deserve the ticket: Cause all the cool kids have ‘em
So, that track I gave you? All the other guys playing on it are going to the show. Seriously. I don’t know how I missed out. But don’t make me sit at home alone on Friday night, listening to “Adventures of the Felice Brothers Vol. 1,” masturbating in the dark, and waiting for the tears to come.
My favorite food: Spaghetti-Eis
My dad’s from Munich, and when I was a kid, we went there most summers to visit my grandparents. There was this cafe called Cafe Venezia (now closed) where my brother and I loved to hang out. Every time, we’d order Spaghetti-Eis, which translates roughly to spaghetti ice cream. They’d squeeze vanilla ice cream through a spaghetti maker and then top it with red fruit sauce and white chocolate shavings. I’d probably find it disgusting now, but back then it seemed pretty awesome.
If I could meet anyone in the world, it would be: YOU
On Friday night, ticket in hand. Pretty please with some red fruit sauce and white chocolate shavings on top?
(Taken from Washington City Paper)
Last night's setlist (Philly)
Last night's show was really great. Here's the set list.
Philly Set List:
Ballad of lou
Chicken wire
White limo
Fire Mountain
Katie Dear
Marlboro Man
Where'd you get the liquor?
Run Chicken Run
Ponzi
Goddamn you Jim
Marie
Farley's Song
St. Stephens
Roll on Arte
Take this Bread
Eyes dart round
Encore:
Dance Hall
Frankie's Gun
Philly Set List:
Ballad of lou
Chicken wire
White limo
Fire Mountain
Katie Dear
Marlboro Man
Where'd you get the liquor?
Run Chicken Run
Ponzi
Goddamn you Jim
Marie
Farley's Song
St. Stephens
Roll on Arte
Take this Bread
Eyes dart round
Encore:
Dance Hall
Frankie's Gun
Sunday, October 24, 2010
The Duke and The King "Helpless" and Pink Floyd
Since i haven't been able to score any good video out of the UK shows, (partly due to the restrictive Marxian BBC) i had to pull out this video from last month that i never posted. Yes, that's Brian Goss playing guitar, one time member of the Duke and the King band and very long time Simone Felice collaborator. Good to see him out there again. Great video again by Bruce (thanks buddy)
Beaver County Times (PA) concert review
Felice Brothers win me over
By: Scott Tady, Times Entertainment Editor Beaver County Times
Sunday October 24, 2010 12:01 AM
I will preface this review by noting that a few fans told me this was one of the worst shows the band ever played -digger
Before his lecture five months ago in Midland, I asked London music critic Neil McCormick to pick his five favorite concerts ever.
McCormick, of The Daily Telegraph, chose a couple of U2 shows, a 1978 concert by Elvis Costello & the Attractions, and a 1996 outdoor gig by Oasis that turned into a 200,000-person sing-along.
No surprises there.
But I was caught off guard by McCormick’s fifth pick, the Felice Brothers.
Really, the Felice Brothers?
You mean that 4-year-old alt-country band from upstate New York that began its career busking in the New York subway?
I own the Felice Brothers’ 2009 album, “Yonder is the Clock,” and deem it good but not spectacular. Though, I trust McCormick, so I motored to Millvale last Monday to check out the Felice Brothers live at Mr. Small’s Theatre.
At first I wasn’t getting it. The Felice Brothers seemed like any number of mildly twangy bands providing a good-intentioned mix of old-timey music with an alternative-rock edge. But then about three songs in, the Felice Brothers hit their stride, or at least won me over, with a series of songs where shifting dynamics built to a tumultuous and tantalizing climax of fiddle, drums, accordion, bass and guitar.
The results were foot-tapping and almost breathtaking. Singer-guitarist Ian Felice displayed a vintage Dylan-esque charm, while his mates, including brother James Felice on accordion and organ, must have listened to every record by The Band.
The two Felice siblings, along with fiddle player Greg Farley and singularly named bassist Christmas, stood four abreast on stage, evenly flanked with drummer David Turbeville. I liked that look, with the drummer seated sideways at a front corner of the stage eye-level with his bandmates, rather than behind them on a riser.
The Felice Brothers didn’t gab much, though they picked a few choice moments for interactive dialogue with fans, notably when a beer-guzzling wag in the back of the crowd shouted out that the band’s hometown team, the New York Yankees, were losing.
“How are the Pirates doing?” fired back James Felice with impeccable timing and a trace of a smile to soften the blow.
One of my top-five concerts ever?
Not even close.
But the Felice Brothers might sneak into the top half of my Top-10 concerts of 2010.
I’ve got them penciled in at No. 5, in a tie with the Low Anthem.
Link
By: Scott Tady, Times Entertainment Editor Beaver County Times
Sunday October 24, 2010 12:01 AM
I will preface this review by noting that a few fans told me this was one of the worst shows the band ever played -digger
Before his lecture five months ago in Midland, I asked London music critic Neil McCormick to pick his five favorite concerts ever.
McCormick, of The Daily Telegraph, chose a couple of U2 shows, a 1978 concert by Elvis Costello & the Attractions, and a 1996 outdoor gig by Oasis that turned into a 200,000-person sing-along.
No surprises there.
But I was caught off guard by McCormick’s fifth pick, the Felice Brothers.
Really, the Felice Brothers?
You mean that 4-year-old alt-country band from upstate New York that began its career busking in the New York subway?
I own the Felice Brothers’ 2009 album, “Yonder is the Clock,” and deem it good but not spectacular. Though, I trust McCormick, so I motored to Millvale last Monday to check out the Felice Brothers live at Mr. Small’s Theatre.
At first I wasn’t getting it. The Felice Brothers seemed like any number of mildly twangy bands providing a good-intentioned mix of old-timey music with an alternative-rock edge. But then about three songs in, the Felice Brothers hit their stride, or at least won me over, with a series of songs where shifting dynamics built to a tumultuous and tantalizing climax of fiddle, drums, accordion, bass and guitar.
The results were foot-tapping and almost breathtaking. Singer-guitarist Ian Felice displayed a vintage Dylan-esque charm, while his mates, including brother James Felice on accordion and organ, must have listened to every record by The Band.
The two Felice siblings, along with fiddle player Greg Farley and singularly named bassist Christmas, stood four abreast on stage, evenly flanked with drummer David Turbeville. I liked that look, with the drummer seated sideways at a front corner of the stage eye-level with his bandmates, rather than behind them on a riser.
The Felice Brothers didn’t gab much, though they picked a few choice moments for interactive dialogue with fans, notably when a beer-guzzling wag in the back of the crowd shouted out that the band’s hometown team, the New York Yankees, were losing.
“How are the Pirates doing?” fired back James Felice with impeccable timing and a trace of a smile to soften the blow.
One of my top-five concerts ever?
Not even close.
But the Felice Brothers might sneak into the top half of my Top-10 concerts of 2010.
I’ve got them penciled in at No. 5, in a tie with the Low Anthem.
Link
The Guardian interview with Simone Felice
Simone Felice: 'Soul music is something you put your heart into'
Link
Phil Hogan
The Observer Features Sun 24 Oct 2010 00:05 BST
The frontman for the Duke and the King tells Phil Hogan about kidnapped violinists, Indian spirits – and heart surgery
Simone Felice – former drummer with rough-assed mountain men the Felice Brothers and now fronting his own four-piece, the Duke and the King – has a lot to be thankful for. Last summer he had the critics drooling over the group's debut album, Nothing Gold Can Stay, a collection of soul-tinged folky anthems thrumming with heartfelt angst. Now, he's pushing on with a second, Long Live the Duke and the King, which has repeated the process.
We meet at the Observer's local, sitting out on the breezy canal bank in deference to Felice's love for the great outdoors, though King's Cross is hardly the Catskills, where he was raised – a bike ride, he says from "Big Pink", the house near Woodstock, where Bob Dylan and the Band made The Basement Tapes.
"So do you like the new record?" he asks. I tell him I like it more than the first and in fact have just been humming one of the songs in the lift – "Hudson River", a lovely bit of loping r'n'b that reminds me of Sam Cooke. "That's one of my favourites," he says.
Felice is rockstar skinny with a bandanna and the sort of gravelly voice one associates with nights on the razz. He tells me about the band – drummer and singer Nowell Haskins, who used to play with Funkadelic/Parliament, as his father did before him; then there's fiddler and singer Simi Stone, an old friend whom the pair tracked down working as a waitress in New York City. "We just heard her play the violin and said, 'Get in the van!' We went and told the restaurant boss: 'She's not coming back – just give us the money you owe her.' It was about 75 bucks."
The fourth member is Felice's co-writer and longtime buddy Robert Burke, also known as Bobby Bird. "Everybody calls him Bird," says Felice. "Or Chicken. He's got a whole bunch of names. Like the devil has." Bird works out the quartet's honeyed harmonies and rootsy vocal interpolations. "He's the tsar of that – I'm more of a tsar of the poetry."
I suggest the new album is more adventurous than the first – the same kind of songs about love, death and ruined promise, but with a broader sound palette. It seems more opened up. "Yes, well the first record – that was just Bird and I. We didn't know anyone would even hear it let alone give it such praise. We didn't expect to be touring with it. So we had to put a band together, find the right people. This new album is a celebration of that."
And how would he describe this music? "I think of it as soul. The people in this group have a love affair with soul music and 60s and 70s radio. We grew up listening to Sly and the Family Stone. I know I'm never going to sing like Otis Redding, but when I think of soul music I think of something you put your whole heart into. You have to believe in it, no matter what. I was born the year after the Vietnam war ended and my music was my father's music. We all loved that Vietnam music – Crosby Stills Nash and Young, Jackson Browne, Jimi Hendrix."
I ask why he made the break with his band of brothers (they're still going strong without him). Had he been frustrated, sitting behind a drum kit? Did he want to try his luck at crowd-surfing?
"I was writing a lot of songs and I wanted to do something new. It's such a treat with this group because I get to be part of a singing band, a sort of travelling carnival." He loves the theatre of it. He says the group is named after the two con artists in Huckleberry Finn, drifting down the Mississippi, setting up stage shows and getting run out of town.
Musically, it's a far cry from the raggedy glee of the Felice Brothers (sample track: "Whiskey in My Whiskey"). Is he perhaps mellowing? "I'm getting a little older – I'm the oldest brother and oldest of seven kids! But we're two different groups. You don't want to make the same thing again."
It's all going remarkably well, though it might have turned out less so. Three months ago Felice was taken into hospital complaining of breathing difficulties. "The doctors were flabbergasted," he says. "They looked at my heart on a big screen, and said: 'There's no medical explanation why you're still alive. If you don't have surgery tomorrow, you're going to die.' They cut me all the way down the middle and put a new valve in."
He unbuttons his shirt (he has an alarming scar) and has me put my ear to his chest. Sure enough it's like a clock ticking away in there. Like the crocodile in Peter Pan, I say.
I ask whether he feels lucky or cursed. "Well I feel better," he grins. "It was my main valve that wasn't working and I was living off only 12% of my blood flow. So now I feel alive. But I also feel blessed. Everybody should have a near-death experience."
I ask to what extent open-heart surgery interferes with a man's rock'n'roll lifestyle. "For me, not at all. I was a drug dealer from the age of 15 to 23. When I stopped that I stopped drinking as well. I don't smoke. I drink carrot juice and ginger tea. I wake up at 6.30 and walk in the woods. I eat roots and berries in the forest. I pray to the great spirit – like the Comanches." He raises his cup in salute. "I'm the squarest rock'n'roller you'll ever meet."
Maybe he has that to be thankful for too, I say. "For sure," he says.
Link
Phil Hogan
The Observer Features Sun 24 Oct 2010 00:05 BST
The frontman for the Duke and the King tells Phil Hogan about kidnapped violinists, Indian spirits – and heart surgery
Simone Felice – former drummer with rough-assed mountain men the Felice Brothers and now fronting his own four-piece, the Duke and the King – has a lot to be thankful for. Last summer he had the critics drooling over the group's debut album, Nothing Gold Can Stay, a collection of soul-tinged folky anthems thrumming with heartfelt angst. Now, he's pushing on with a second, Long Live the Duke and the King, which has repeated the process.
We meet at the Observer's local, sitting out on the breezy canal bank in deference to Felice's love for the great outdoors, though King's Cross is hardly the Catskills, where he was raised – a bike ride, he says from "Big Pink", the house near Woodstock, where Bob Dylan and the Band made The Basement Tapes.
"So do you like the new record?" he asks. I tell him I like it more than the first and in fact have just been humming one of the songs in the lift – "Hudson River", a lovely bit of loping r'n'b that reminds me of Sam Cooke. "That's one of my favourites," he says.
Felice is rockstar skinny with a bandanna and the sort of gravelly voice one associates with nights on the razz. He tells me about the band – drummer and singer Nowell Haskins, who used to play with Funkadelic/Parliament, as his father did before him; then there's fiddler and singer Simi Stone, an old friend whom the pair tracked down working as a waitress in New York City. "We just heard her play the violin and said, 'Get in the van!' We went and told the restaurant boss: 'She's not coming back – just give us the money you owe her.' It was about 75 bucks."
The fourth member is Felice's co-writer and longtime buddy Robert Burke, also known as Bobby Bird. "Everybody calls him Bird," says Felice. "Or Chicken. He's got a whole bunch of names. Like the devil has." Bird works out the quartet's honeyed harmonies and rootsy vocal interpolations. "He's the tsar of that – I'm more of a tsar of the poetry."
I suggest the new album is more adventurous than the first – the same kind of songs about love, death and ruined promise, but with a broader sound palette. It seems more opened up. "Yes, well the first record – that was just Bird and I. We didn't know anyone would even hear it let alone give it such praise. We didn't expect to be touring with it. So we had to put a band together, find the right people. This new album is a celebration of that."
And how would he describe this music? "I think of it as soul. The people in this group have a love affair with soul music and 60s and 70s radio. We grew up listening to Sly and the Family Stone. I know I'm never going to sing like Otis Redding, but when I think of soul music I think of something you put your whole heart into. You have to believe in it, no matter what. I was born the year after the Vietnam war ended and my music was my father's music. We all loved that Vietnam music – Crosby Stills Nash and Young, Jackson Browne, Jimi Hendrix."
I ask why he made the break with his band of brothers (they're still going strong without him). Had he been frustrated, sitting behind a drum kit? Did he want to try his luck at crowd-surfing?
"I was writing a lot of songs and I wanted to do something new. It's such a treat with this group because I get to be part of a singing band, a sort of travelling carnival." He loves the theatre of it. He says the group is named after the two con artists in Huckleberry Finn, drifting down the Mississippi, setting up stage shows and getting run out of town.
Musically, it's a far cry from the raggedy glee of the Felice Brothers (sample track: "Whiskey in My Whiskey"). Is he perhaps mellowing? "I'm getting a little older – I'm the oldest brother and oldest of seven kids! But we're two different groups. You don't want to make the same thing again."
It's all going remarkably well, though it might have turned out less so. Three months ago Felice was taken into hospital complaining of breathing difficulties. "The doctors were flabbergasted," he says. "They looked at my heart on a big screen, and said: 'There's no medical explanation why you're still alive. If you don't have surgery tomorrow, you're going to die.' They cut me all the way down the middle and put a new valve in."
He unbuttons his shirt (he has an alarming scar) and has me put my ear to his chest. Sure enough it's like a clock ticking away in there. Like the crocodile in Peter Pan, I say.
I ask whether he feels lucky or cursed. "Well I feel better," he grins. "It was my main valve that wasn't working and I was living off only 12% of my blood flow. So now I feel alive. But I also feel blessed. Everybody should have a near-death experience."
I ask to what extent open-heart surgery interferes with a man's rock'n'roll lifestyle. "For me, not at all. I was a drug dealer from the age of 15 to 23. When I stopped that I stopped drinking as well. I don't smoke. I drink carrot juice and ginger tea. I wake up at 6.30 and walk in the woods. I eat roots and berries in the forest. I pray to the great spirit – like the Comanches." He raises his cup in salute. "I'm the squarest rock'n'roller you'll ever meet."
Maybe he has that to be thankful for too, I say. "For sure," he says.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Great Video of The Duke and The King in studio performance of O' Gloria
The Guardian has posted
A stunning performance, in Hi-def, and is from the Guardian's "How we wrote this song" series.
A stunning performance, in Hi-def, and is from the Guardian's "How we wrote this song" series.
Cypress Grove from Pittsburgh
Cypress Grove is a Skip James song they have been playing for a little over a year.
Pics and video by LaraLaurent post over at Frankiesgun hopefully she sends me her Flickr link so we can see her pics
Washington DC Rock and Roll Hotel 10-22-10
DC Set List
Murder By Mistletoe
Fire Mountain
Let Me Come Home
Stepdad
River Jordan
Greatest Show
Ruby Mae
Whiskey
Ponzi
Take This Bread
Run Chicken Run
Wonderful Life
Frankie's Gun
St. Stephen's End
Marie
Goddamn You Jim
Encore:
Dance Hall
Helen Fry
Murder By Mistletoe
Fire Mountain
Let Me Come Home
Stepdad
River Jordan
Greatest Show
Ruby Mae
Whiskey
Ponzi
Take This Bread
Run Chicken Run
Wonderful Life
Frankie's Gun
St. Stephen's End
Marie
Goddamn You Jim
Encore:
Dance Hall
Helen Fry
Friday, October 22, 2010
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