SCO
Last night, Jenny and I had a big night out. We’re both homebodies, and when you play music for a living, it’s nearly work to go out and hear someone else play.
There are exceptions. When it’s John Scofield, it’s worth the ticket price, worth the food, drink, and tips, and worth the cost of a Lyft downtown.
Before I say anything else, I want to encourage those reading to find out if John’s “Electrospective” tour is coming to your town this fall. If it is, buy tickets, and plan on a fantastic evening.
Since the folks who’ve released my new book Summer of Gone are encouraging me to blog and blab about it, I’m going to use their PR appetite as a means to shine a light on Sco.
How we met 20 years ago and became friends is something I talk about in the book; in fact, early on in the story, John and his wife / manager Susan make a significant appearance, and they’re among the kind friends who weave in and out of the heavy, difficult, and eventually healing story.
I have been a fan of John’s since the release of his record “Electric Outlet”, a funky set of tunes performed by him on bass and guitars with drumming icon Steve Jordan. It was my love of Jordan’s playing that caused me to take a listen, and I’ve been hooked ever since.
Back then, in the early 80s, I couldn’t have foreseen breaking bread with the guy whose playing I held in such high esteem, but here we are. Again, those details are found in the book, along with a host of other amazing musicians whose names I couldn’t resist dropping — as long as those names somehow fit into the narrative.
Last night at City Winery in Nashville, Jenny and I had amazing seats, close enough to see the broad smile on John’s face as he interacted with as fine an ensemble as I’ve seen him with — and I’ve seen him in fine company many times!
Larry Goldings, arguably my favorite Hammond organ player, was on all manner of keyboards. Jenny was excited to meet him because of her suspicion that he is the man behind the mysterious oddball Johnny “Bowtie” Barstow. In fact, she had the opportunity after the show to ask him straight up if he and “Bowtie” are one in the same. We couldn’t get a straight answer, but Jenny remains convinced.
Oteil Burbridge was on a six-string electric bass, and to be honest, if the bassist isn’t playing upright bass, I want to see an old school Fender four-string bass. But what can I say? Oteil was astoundingly brilliant — barefoot and smiling like the Buddha.
Initially, I had been slightly disappointed to find that one of John’s mainstay drummers, Bill Stewart, wouldn’t be joining in on this tour. It’s hard to imagine anyone filling those stylish shoes, but Adam Deitch, the kid in the band, was absolutely mind-blowing. Jenny and I both remarked that my drummer brother Bryan Owings should have been there to listen. The grooves were insane.
Sco and Co ran through selections from decades of his electric-leaning albums, including an old favorite from the “Electric Outlet” project, “Best Western”. The band was enjoying each other, prodding each other to dig deeper and fly further.
Jenny was beside herself, nearly giddy, infected by the groove and mesmerized by the virtuosity.
Midway through a spectacular set, John remarked that it was always intimidating to play Nashville with so many guitarists in attendance; he quipped that he’d been learning a lot from Music City guitar players on YouTube.
One of those guitarists was my old friend Phil Keaggy, in attendance with a drummer friend. Back in 1989 or so, when Keaggy had moved to Nashville from LA, I had made the drive with him in a Dodge van containing whatever belongings his family hadn’t been able to get onto the moving truck. Before last night’s performance, I reminded PK that I had brought the “Electric Outlet” CD with me for the trip, and it was on repeat for quite a few of the 2,000 miles.
It felt like a full circle moment for Phil and Phil.
We all have our musical heroes. We buy everything they release, and we catch them “live” when they come to town. We hope they’re as likeable as their music, but it’s unlikely that we’ll ever know.
In the department of personhood, John’s kindness shines through, whether on stage or off. He’s just a nice guy. I don’t know why this surprises me, except that I must have some subconscious theory that says a musician who is devoted to virtuosity probably doesn’t have time to learn how to be a mensch. Well, that’s simply not the case as regards the band I saw last night.
I’ll land the plane by saying that I’m grateful for friendships, and John’s friendship is no exception. His music, his band, and the Electrospective tour is, however, exceptional! Check it out, my friends!
Thanks again, Sco!