Between The Rock And A Hard Place: Newfoundland, Great Big Sea, Alan Doyle, And Even Russell Crowe

"The Best Intentions" Part Six - Starting To Feel It All Again: Beginning With The End, Wrapping Up Loch Ness, Unstoppable (& Persuasive) GBS

ETA: Always forgetting something; there will likely be an edit-in on my tombstone. Congratulations are due to Shanneyganock for winning four 2007 MusicNL Awards, including Best Group and co-Best Album for Fling Out The Flag, which was produced by Bob Hallett and which is, in my opinion, their best CD so far. If Hawksley Workman comes near to accomplishing with GBS what Bob has done with Shanneyganock and Alan has done with The Irish Descendants, the new GBS CD really will Rock Planet Earth.

I was supposed to read The Shipping News for the third and final time tonight. But I've been supposed to read The Shipping News for weeks now and have yet do it thus far - carrying the book back and forth across the continent with me like a broken promise - so the damage done to The Plan by one more night's refusal would seem to be acceptably minimal. I know I have to read the book this one last time, a promise self-made after the second reading unsettled a measure of the dismissive disdain I'd felt on the first go-round ("This is not what's true about the music I've heard or the people I've met," I'd snorted derisively after that initial exposure, maybe some four months after I'd first seen GBS live); by the time of the second reading, several years later, Truth had become a considerably more complex creature.

That second time around, Proulx's Newfoundland still was not the truth I had found in the music I'd heard or the people I'd met, nor in the place I had since come to know a bit and care about more, but I could just barely begin to understand by then why it was she might have seen it all that way, why it might have been what she believed was true. Half-broken truth, in my own eyes, but, still, even a partial truth deserves to be faced squarely; must be so faced, if the purpose of embracing the larger truth is ever to be accomplished. You can hate or fear, mistrust or misconstrue, a shadow. Love, trust, and honesty require a clear and steady gaze.

So I promised myself that when I got to the point where I knew what I wanted to write - knew how to begin and where the middle was and what destination to which it was all headed - that was when I would read The Shipping News one final time, using the book as a measure of the process of understanding and acceptance from the beginning, through the middle, up until now. And there the damn book sits, mutely reproaching my procrastinating ways.

I plead guilty as charged, guilty with extenuating circumstances. I plead distraction:

This picture is from the Loch Ness show, but out of sequence in performance order. You can scroll down to see the rest of the GBS Beat The Drum Festival photos in order, from the beginning of Fortune to this last view of Alan's lingering farewell. There are even a few shots of Bruce Guthro doing some stage-edge songs (right out in the rain with the rest of us, a very impressive move) during the Runrig headline set and a couple of silly post-show shots too. It's all there in nice, neat chronological order for those who prefer it that way. Those who are up to a measure of dizzying time- and geographic-travel are welcome to linger here with Alan a bit longer.

This was another one of the moments during the Loch Ness show when it felt like time froze while Alan held an expression long enough for the impact to be unforgettable, long enough for the specific moment to resonate with a deeper significance. Bob has written in his own journal about the importance of context, his comments in reference to particular songs and how the circumstances in which we hear them play a pivotal role in the lasting effect the songs have on us; the same is on occasion true for some photographs. In this picture, perhaps the single most pertinent bit of context is in knowing what Alan is seeing and hearing as he raises his hand in a prolonged farewell salute: A sea of mud beneath persistent rainfall, a throng of thousands - nearly twenty thousand - in raincoats and hats and hoods and huddled beneath umbrellas; faces turned up toward him, so many delighted to have been surprised out of their discomfort and persuaded to smile and cheer and sing along. Long moments after all the others have taken their leave, Alan Doyle lingers on a huge empty stage, one hand held high in salute as the wave of applause from thousands of grateful people races toward, then breaks and crashes over the man who is The Rock Star, the man who is The Petty Harbour Boy.

Context abounds and abides; looking up into Alan's face, into this expression on Alan's face, I hear an echo of his own words from another time and another place, a chance comment heard and noted, then tucked away into memory. Standing shivering in the Scottish summer rain, remembering those words and seeing this face, what I thought at the moment was simply Yes. But that "Yes" makes no sense to anyone else without explanation.

Ottawa, spring of 2003, Atlantic Scene, Songwriters' Circle. Alan joining such consummate songsmiths as Bruce Guthro, Gordie Sampson, Lennie Gallant; it was the first time he performed When I Am King and Something Beautiful. Later that evening there was a NHL playoff game and a Best Seat In The House special at the pub. Even later than that, I wrote what might be the best and most honest story I've ever written. But as excellent as it all was, that's not the abiding context that gives this expression on Alan's face the power to pierce straight through a half-broken heart. It was the chance comment, spoken during between-song SC chatter more than four years ago, that found its way to Scottish soil on this soggy day in the present, a comment Alan had made while talking about a book he had recently read, the Motley Crue autobiography The Dirt. What Alan had said then was that he was amazed that the Motley Crue fellows did so many wild and crazy things while still struggling to break through, adding that he could have never risked doing such things because he would have been afraid it might mean he would lose his chance to have a life in music.

When I wrote about that  Atlantic Scene SC, I mentioned Alan's comment and I said that there are times when a person makes a chance comment that gives you a momentary glimpse into the heart and soul of who he is, like when a strong breeze blows aside a curtain for a few fleeting seconds and you peer into what has been a hidden room. I never explained why I thought Alan's comment was so significant and revelatory; I figured those who got it would understand and those who did not get it would just go right on thinking me a delusional stalker/an 'Obsessed Alan Fan'/barking mad/fill in the blank with your epithet of choice.

Looking up into Alan's face at the end of the GBS set at Loch Ness, there was that same heart and soul glimpse, the curtain lifted by an insistent breeze, not the first time seen since that Ottawa afternoon, but one of the clearest and strongest times. The man for whom a life in music is such a dear and precious thing that he'd have never risked his chance to get to this place, to this stage on this day and to all of the other stages on all of the other days - the man who, unlike the Motley Crue fellows, was never so arrogant as to presume that this dear and precious thing was something to which he was entitled or for which he was destined, no matter how carelessly he might behave - was showing the essential humility and enduring gratitude, along with the compelling need, that are at the foundation of what makes the performer, the artist, and the man so special.

In my opinion of course. The truth I have found, one of those truths. Chances are that Annie Proulx might see it all quite differently.

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These are the last of the GBS photos from Loch Ness, followed by just a few of Bruce. More on that, and a bit about the other Beat The Drum bands, in a bit. First up is Fortune, which ended GBS's set with very much of a bang, even if the rain had begun to get more persistent, making photography quite the challenge.

Not a great shot, but the expression of glee on Sean's face makes it all worth it.

I love this one. Sean drumming away behind Alan as Alan belts out "Make some noise! Make some noise! Make some noise!" is priceless.

Alan takes the notion of the Power Chord to a higher level.

Concentration from afar and from up close.

As Alan likes to describe Murray, "Sexy, sexy, sexy."

And then Alan plants a foot on the monitor and brings this show home.

The Rock Star and The Petty Harbour Boy.

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I would have loved to have gotten some real Runrig photos, but by the time Runrig came on stage (after GBS left, Wolfstone played a strong set, even perhaps not the best kind of music for standing in the chilly rain up to your ankles in mud, though when Julie Fowlis played an earlier set, she did a great job at keeping the interest of the crowd with her Gaelic songs; local favourites The Vatersay Boys fared better - but not poor miscast and much-maligned Aberfeldy -  and The Red Hot Chilli Pipers, who played right before Runrig, sure got the crowd pumped too, one-trick-pony stuff but exciting nonetheless), it was raining a bit harder, my camera was getting wetter, it was dark, the wind had picked up and, frankly, it was pretty frigging miserable. So for most of Runrig's set, I just watched and listened and tried to get a feel for the crowd dynamic. But when Bruce came out from underneath the protective canopy to sit at stage edge and sing a few gorgeous solo tunes, it was a performance moment I could not resist.

I'm still fascinated by Runrig and their fans. There's more to be said about them, particularly in regard to how Runrig fans react to GBS and maybe why, based on what appears to be Runrig's own performance dynamic, but I think I'll wait till I get to the Danish shows for that since we did get to see Runrig again there, in a nice dry comfy tent - complete with sausages and Guinness and chocolate - where I could actually see and hear and think without being wet, exhausted, hungry, and half-frozen. Amazing how such a change in circumstances affect's one's clarity of thought. So I'll save that for later, and maybe eventually I'll put up some of the tourist-type photos of our boat ride on Loch Ness and tour of Urquarht Castle from the day before this show. Too bad I did not get a photo of the disdainful bull whose pasture we found ourselves strolling through. I found Scotland tremendously appealing in the very short time I was there, and I hope I get a chance to go back in the future. There is still Edinburgh to discover.

A few last notes about the GBS part of this show, with apologies for not having not done such a great job when it comes to chronological reporting, maybe because a part of my mind just wants to forget what it felt like to stand in a constant chilly rain for nearly 18 hours. All I can say is that when we tiptoed out of our B&B at 5 am, I'm glad I did not know then what it was going to be like spending so much time in such conditions, because if I had known, I might have hesitated. Of course, if I'd also known how good this show was going to be, there would have been no risk of hesitation. None whatsoever. It was worth every single moment.

I've had a lot of time to think about what it was about this show that caused it to impress me so and leave such an enduring memory. Part of it was simply GBS, collectively, how they played this show. This is one of those "really hard to say for fear of saying it wrong" moments. The GBS World is, in my opinion, sometimes a scary place when it comes to speaking any opinion that could potentially piss someone off or hurt someone; at least it scares me. Sometimes even the most sincere compliment carries its own concomitant criticism, inferred even when not implied. What I want to say about Loch Ness is that much of the power of this show came from the fact that all five of the players were committed, alert, energetic and focused - and I know as soon as those words are read, there are some who will find fault because they will see this statement as saying that there are times when that's not true of all five of them. And of course that is how it is - as it would be, normally and expectedly so, for any group of five co-workers who work an exhausting schedule together over the course of years - but it's not supposed to be said. Which means that when those five co-workers do all hit the high note together in one great show, that can't be acknowledged for the impressive accomplishment it truly is since there's pressure to pretend it happens all the time.  As I said, sometimes it scares me.

But at this show, all five of them really were great, collectively and cohesively so. I especially noticed how energetic (and sexy) Murray was and how intense Kris looked while playing his drum parts; the two of them added so much vitality to the overall mix. I feel bad that the rain got in the way of any photos worthy of the show both Bob and Sean put on (seeing Bob striking poses for the professional photographer was a smile-inducing sight). And Alan burned like a flame no downpour could quench. Even on their rough nights, GBS is better than most all other live bands; on nights when one or two or three of them are at the top of their game, they're the best around. When all five of them are present and fully engaged, they are unstoppable. Great Big Sea was unstoppable at Loch Ness.

The second part of why this show made such a powerful and lasting impression on me - on others too, from what I have been told firsthand and accounts I have read on some of the Runrig sites - is, I believe, inextricably linked to the first part. This was a show in front of thousands of people who had not come to see GBS, a huge crowd that was enduring miserable conditions while waiting for the band they had come to see, that band being one whose music and performance dynamic are in many ways considerably different from GBS's. I think it has been quite some time since GBS has played for neither their own audience nor a neutral festival-type (or private/corporate-show) audience but instead played for "someone else's audience," especially one of such size and in such circumstances. It has at the very least been quite some time since I've seen GBS confront this kind of performance challenge.

The challenge was risen to; the day - and the bulk of the crowd - was won. Courage, charm, seduction, assurance, a relentless onslaught of music and energy...they were persuasive. The feeling of standing in the midst of those whose ears and eyes and minds and hearts are being intrigued and pleased and persuaded: that is what I enjoy the most about a GBS performance. As wonderful as are the huge GBS Shows at Molson or Bluesfest or the Saddledome, the shows where everyone there cheers them their every word and move and no one needs to be taught their singalong part, and as intense as are the small-venue packed-to-the-rafters-with-the-Faithful shows at the local theatres or in the sweaty clubs, the shows where people come dressed for frenetic celebration and primed for emotional catharsis - the GBS shows I love most of all are the ones where those who had no preconceived notions or expectations are persuaded of the worth of GBS's music and the impact of GBS's performance, a spontaneous response to the power of both that music and its performance. I love to see them win the day. I love to see that conquering look in Alan's eyes, followed soon thereafter by the humility and the gratitude.

It's been just about two months since the European shows, time during which I've tried hard to persuade myself that no matter how great those shows were, they weren't quite "real," that they were more like an especially sweet dream you wish you could hold onto, but inevitably you awaken and find yourself facing the exigencies of the business-decisions world. I've been trying even harder to see it this way the past week, now that it's nearly time for the Vancouver shows, then the Toronto Grey Cup event not long after that. But I am having no more success in persuading myself of this than I am having getting that damn book read. Someone far more persuasive, as well as distracting, has won this day as well.

And it isn't as if what takes place in the business-decisions world can't be wonderful too. Isn't there some catchy song lyric by an excellent songwriter about "Heaven on Earth"?

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Just a few after-show shots. I'd mentioned in an earlier entry that there was going to be a "roast hog" booth - termed such since the woman organising the event is the wife of a local police officer - at the Festival. After we were routed out of the show through what was a one-exit-only claustrophobe's nightmare  (literally - still having troubled dreams about those godawful moments) crush of people because the little creek over which the festival access bridge passed was now a raging torrent, we found our car thoroughly mired in the muck that was our "parking lot," along with a few thousand other cars. Having not eaten a bite of food since the spectacular cranachan (liberally doused with whiskey, thanks to the kind soul who made it up for me) we'd had some 14 hours earlier (clearly, a dish made for sustenance), we wandered over to get some food while waiting for the exit-attempt chaos to simmer down a bit. We loaded up first on sausages and then found the roast hog booth, so we got some of that too. On the way back to the car, I slipped in the goo and went down on my arse, but managed to keep all the food I was carrying pristeenly unsullied. Priorities.

It took a very long time for that chaos to die down, or so I was told later. We did not wait for it to happen. After we partook of the pig - oops, make that "hog" - we decided not to wait what was going to take hours for our turn at the tractor-chain-pull-out-of-mud rescue procedure. We decided to make a run for the back exit instead. Christina got behind the wheel, I positioned myself behind the car in ankle-deep muck, and I counted to three. On "three" she gunned it and I pushed as hard as I could and off the little bastard of a car shot, nearly leaving me on my face in mud that was the consistency (and approaching the aroma) of what you might find in a dirty diaper. (One of these days I will get around to finding out if there is sulfur in the soil along the shores of Loch Ness.) We made it out onto the pavement with much shouting and jubilation. Then we drove to the Inverness Airport.

And found it closed for three more hours. The kind Security Lady let us park the car in the rental return lane where we curled up in our wet muddy clothes in the car seats and promptly fell fast asleep.

Worth every single moment. Not a bit of doubt about it.

Maybe I'll just bring The Shipping News with me to Vancouver. I can not read it there as well as I can not read it here.

"Love And Lose, And Lose And Love Again" - Russell Crowe Talks About His Team, His Music, His Band, The New GBS CD, and Alan Doyle - His Principal Songwriting Partner

ETA: I saw Alan on the NTV news tonight, at the event celebrating the raising of the first $1 million toward the $6 million goal for Daffodil Place. Alan and the rest of the fundraising committee are doing a great job working to turn the dream of this much-needed cancer-treatment residence facility into a reality for all Newfoundlanders and Labradorians.

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I've always thought it comes down to the words that are being sung - Russell Crowe, on his musical influences

He's always a man who's been looking for a calling - Russell Crowe, on Alan Doyle, his "principal songwriting partner"

Russell Crowe & Alan Doyle, The Ordinary Fear Of God performance at Grand Central, Melbourne, Nov. 2005

Take a bit of an internet break and, sure enough, you miss Something Delightful. You belatedly stumble across talk on related fan sites about what you have missed, and then you find that the Something Delightful has been kindly and conveniently archived for clueless laggards such as yourself. Lucky me, no penalty whatsoever for break-taking, except perhaps in not hearing some great news quite as soon as I might have otherwise. So now I am taking a subsequent break from wrapping up the Loch Ness show, all to spend a few moments taking keen pleasure in the delightful.

This past Monday, Russell Crowe took his own break away from the busy promotion schedule for his brand new film, American Gangster, and made a quick trip down to Jacksonville, Florida, to attend to several pending matters there, including those related to the scheduled January 26th exhibition game at the University of North Florida's Hodges Stadium between his co-owned Australian National Rugby League South Sydney Rabbitohs and the English Super League Champion Leeds Rhinos - the first such matchup ever held on American soil. I think that auspicious fact alone makes this game quite the occasion; for anyone else who feels the same way, tickets ($10, $15 & $35 options) for this ground-breaking (and potentially bone-breaking) event can be obtained on the Jacksonville Axemen site.

On a mission to raise awareness of his team's upcoming game, Russell made a visit to the Monday Night Football booth during the third quarter of the Colts/Jaguars game (caught that appearance quite by chance, since I rarely miss watching the games when I'm home), and earlier that same day he stopped by the NPR studios of WJCT in Jacksonville to record a treasure of an interview for that station's weekly Electro Lounge segment. This interview - one which ranges with casual charm and subtle wit across such widely varied topics as sports, music, acting, community responsibility, living the Big Life, religion, songwriting, and fatherhood - is my Something Delightful, so much so that I'm including the link to WJCT's Electro Lounge Page, where this interview can be accessed via WJCT's own link.

Russell Crowe Podcast On WJCT Electro Lounge Page

And just in case the WJCT link should wind up having a short shelf life or anyone has trouble getting that file to work, here's a second link for downloading this 9 MB version of the interview. Because I think so highly of this interview, it's also going up permanently in the appropriate category of my Download Links over in the righhand column here.

Russell Crowe WJCT Interview (rugby, music & Alan Doyle/GBS) audio download link    mp3, 9 MB

There is so much here that's good in this near-40-minute forthright chat between WJCT's Electro Lounge host David Luckin and one of the most interesting men in the entertainment industry - including enough enthusiastic description of how exciting Rugby League is to tempt most any sports-loving soul into checking it out -  but at the end of the day, it's an interview that's all about the music...talking about music and listening to music. Russell says during the course of the conversation that his purpose in being at the radio station this day is to "talk to a music guy in town" as part of a low-key and non-wankerish testing of the potential local response to there being a gig performed by Russell's band, The Ordinary Fear Of God, in conjunction with the exhibition game, an outcome for which I and my own little coming-to-Jacksonville-from-all-corners-of-North-America group are fervently hoping, along with quite a few others, I am sure (though, speaking only for myself, the hope is much less fervent to ever again find myself inside Jack Rabbit's). One way for others who feel the same way about the possible gig/game combination to help bring that about would be to email WJCT at the electrolounge@wjct.org address and express their desire to see such a show; comments saying the same posted on the above-linked TOFOG MySpace page could also be of some benefit.

But most of all, I'd recommend listening to this interview, especially to those who have not yet heard Russell Crowe's most recent music. Several songs from Russell's last CD, My Hand My Heart, are played and discussed, with much to be said, some of it impressively perceptive, about one Alan Doyle - producer of Russell's MHMH CD, TOFOG sometimes-band member, and, the one I liked the best, Russell's "principal songwriting partner".

Russell Crowe and Alan Doyle have done some exceptional songwriting together - two of those collaborative efforts, Testify and Raewyn, are played during this segment - and so the absolute highlight of this piece for me was when Russell confirmed that this collaboration is still ongoing, mentioning that songs he and Alan have written together are likely to wind up on the currently-in-the-works new Great Big Sea CD, as well as in a solo project Alan has going on the side. I really should go over and apologise to the neighbours for how much that sudden whoop of joy coming from this house when I heard those words surely must have startled the shit out of them.

Of course my first thought about there being any Crowe/Doyle collaborations on the new GBS CD was Please, please, please let it be Where I Belong. I've heard Alan sing this wrenchingly honest song only one time, one completely unforgettable time, back last spring at the Kalamazoo GBS show. It's the first Newfoundland song I have heard that I believe worthy of being the rightful heir to Sonny's Dream, a song which has the power to be a poignant anthem for the subsequent generation. If ever there were a list of reasons for not wanting to skip GBS shows, Where I Belong would be at the top that list, right next to Walk On The Moon. Both songs have had a similar impact on me, though each provokes a totally different response. Each song is to be counted among the best I've heard, among the best a prodigiously gifted songwriter has written, or co-written. Where I Belong needs to be heard, and perhaps even more, it needs to be sung by those whose story it tells, the ones now far from home and the ones who wait and hope for their return.

But as much as I want this song to be the collaborative effort on the new GBS CD to which Russell is referrring, the truth is that I have loved each of the Doyle/Crowe (or Crowe/Doyle, if one is so inclined) collaborations. These two songsmiths have given me every reason to trust the results of all of their creative efforts, so if there is indeed one of their songs on the new GBS CD, I believe that song will be more of the same good that has gone before. And that would leave the possibility open for Where I Belong to wind up as part of this tantalising "solo project" Alan has going on the side. I hope Russell has spilled no beans before their time - if he has and if any (unnamed) principal songwriting partner should happen to be pissed off because of it, Russell could always pull out the "Performing Weight Of A Man At The Winnipeg Junos Songwriters' Circle" trump card to take that trick - and I hope just as much that I am not in trouble for picking up those spilled beans and declaring them to be pure and absolute magic. Especially since I lack even a lone deuce of trump.

What odds. Damn the torpedoes, once more unto the breach, and so on:  What Russell says here about Alan having even a "little" solo project going on has thrilled me to the point of making me want to dance a jig, despite having two left feet. This was what caused the neighbour-perturbing shout of joy. It makes me want to applaud, or maybe better to say it makes me want to persuade the world to get busy about the business of applauding Alan. It makes me want to celebrate, in the true and genuine sense of that word.

As much as I have appreciated and admired and respected what Great Big Sea has accomplished - and I'd have to feel a whole hell of a lot of all three of those things to want to see as many of their shows as I have - and as much as I believe GBS has every capability to keep right on writing and playing music that deserves as much if not even more of that same appreciation, admiration, and respect...I still believe with every bit of my heart that Alan has some creative potentials and artistic capabilities that could find their best expression away from GBS. I think the same is probably true of many, if not most, extremely talented individuals within larger establshed groups, and may all so inclined be afforded the same opportunities. But most of all, I'd love to see Alan have every one of those opportunities he wants. He could do amazing things with such opportunities.

The potential for many amazing things to come seems great. The thought that this deeply impressive wealth of creative prowess - Russell Crowe, TOFOG, Alan Doyle, Great Big Sea - could find a way to all possible variations, combinations, and permutations of collective and individual expression is beyond thrilling; it's positively dizzying. This just might be the best interview I very nearly missed.

One last point before a reprise of some photos I took at a TOFOG show in Melbourne in 2005. When Alan first began collaborating with Russell in the summer of 2004 and word got out about the nascent songwriting partnership, I was wary, to say the least. I knew nothing at all about Russell Crowe other than that he was an unparallelled actor who had a penchant for attracting negative press. Being no particular fan of journalists myself, the latter seemed a plus, but the former was far less so. That's a Big-Time Movie Star with Alan, I thought, and if Mr. Big Shot winds up hurting Alan, he's for sure going to have my lasting enmity. Not that I thought anyone else would give a shit if I did wind up thinking Russell Crowe was an asshole, but it was all I had to offer.

I did not doubt that the songwriting would be good - I trust Alan when it comes to writing, collaborative or solo effort...I am "here" in the first place because of Alan's writing, after all - but I did not expect to wind up liking Russell Crowe, not at all. I grew up in LA; movie stars were not, in my own experience, particularly likeable people. But after going to a series of TOFOG shows in Australia - and this band puts on a spectacular show, a sketchy glimpse of which can be seen in the photos below, but you have to see them live to know how good they really are - and after spending a few years poking around in what is known as "Croweland," I discovered, somewhat to my own surprise, that I really do like Russell Crowe. Much of that affection is based on little things that Russell does, small and unrehearsed moments of generosity and consideration that go much further to reveal the Man Who Is than do an exponentially larger number of loud and scripted moments.

One of those all-too-easy-to-miss moments takes place in this interview. It's clear from what the host says that Russell was given a certain number of songs to choose for playing during the segement - a segment whose purpose is to gauge and inspire support for a gig by his own band. Three of the songs Russell picked for play are the expected tunes by his own band, but the fourth song picked is not Russell's. The fourth song Russell Crowe picked for play on this Jacksonville, Florida, radio station segment about himself and his own band is Consequence Free by Great Big Sea.

I really do like Russell Crowe. I like Russell Crowe even more when he's workiing with Alan Doyle.

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These are a few more of the pictures from the Grand Central show in Melbourne, November 2005. Although I'd seen The Ordinary Fear Of God for the first time in Le Thor, France, a few months earlier, I still think of this as the first real TOFOG show I saw, the first of an unforgettable series of Australian TOFOG shows over the next few months.

This show was also rather memorable for being the only show in my entire life where not just one but two topnotch bass players - one of them them customarily and deservedly described as "legendary" - each dutifully paddled over during the course of the evening to ask me how it was I could afford to be in Australia. Yet another scene sure to be rejected by any pragmatic editor reluctant to willingly suspend disbelief.

Keyboards king Stuart Hunter can be seen in the background, behind the songwriting partners.

Russell and Alan takes turns bedevilling TOFOG Brass Man Stewart Kirwan; Bones Hillman can be seen on bass in the background of the second shot.

Playing fast and hard (Folsom, most likely), with Russell on that gorgeous Gretsch and a peek of a view of drummer Dave Kelly behind the rockers.

Alan does his inimitable Rock Star Sneer, which is so frigging adorable that I couldn't decide which edit version to use; I love them both, so they're both included. "Adorable" might not be the effect Alan's seeking with that curled lip of his, but if you're going to be that cute when you do your Rock Star Sneer, you just have to deal.

Sometimes, one look speaks volumes, even between wordsmiths.

Alan's the one who says he believes in hope, not expectations. I'm pretty determined when it comes to hope too. Here's hoping for magic in Florida come January. And magic in music to come soon thereafter. Come to think of it, I am going to throw in the hope that just maybe Alan was there with Russell in Jacksonville on Monday, checking out venues with him and getting to go to the NFL game. No expectations of that being true, but it sure makes for a sweet hope. Sweet hope is one of the very best parts of this beautiful life.

"The Best Intentions" Part Five - Knowing Just When To Face The Truth, And Then Knowing Just When To Dream: Excursions Past, Present, & Future

Excursion, up close. From Runrig's Beat The Drum Festival at Loch Ness this past August.

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I can't say for sure when it was I first heard the song Excursion, though it was most likely at my first Great Big Sea show, Bumbershoot in Seattle over Labour Day Weekend in 2001. Likely then, because I certainly had never heard Excursion before knowing about GBS, and because out of all the GBS shows I've seen, there have only been a few where they did not perform this song.

Back then, of course, it was Darrell singing the lead part of Excursion, a song which, I would soon find out, was widely considered by longtime GBS fans to be "Darrell's Song" since it was one of very few on which Darrell sang the lead part. Actually, it was the only song Darrell was still singing lead on by the time I came along - I never had the chance to hear Darrell's Little Beggarman or his Jakey's Gin done live, one of the slings and arrows of having been a latter-day Original-Four-GBS fan - though there would be a series of spectacular exceptions to that circumstance during his last run with GBS in the Sea Of No Cares Tour.

As a bit of a sidebar, congratulations to Darrell for his song, We Know What We're Fighting For, having been chosen as Newoundland & Labrador Premier Danny Williams' (overwhelming) victory tune, something good happening for a fellow who deserves more of the same. I really liked Darrell Power: He is one of the two most sensible Newfoundlanders I have known so far; Darrell made even the simple act of being kind consistent with being sensible, no small accomplishment considering the circumstances.

Darrell always sang a grand Excursion, each and every night. He would sing the tune at breakneck speed, seeming never to need to catch a breath, Sean would whack away on the bodhran, Bob would wave his arms and gesticulate, and a guitarless Alan would strut and swish a glorious path along the edge of the stage, grinning and twinkling and waggling, teasing and beckoning and exhorting the crowd to the pinnacle of fist-pumping glory. I'm sure Alan Doyle loves many traditional Newfoundland songs, but it has always seemed as if this particular traditional Newfoundland song holds a special place in his heart.

I would listen to Darrell but watch Alan, laughing and loving every posture and pose he struck, enjoying the view of him unblocked by guitar and with his fists held high in the air, all while surrounded by warm bodies and loud voices, getting the occasional shower of beer when the hand holding the beverage was the one answering Alan's insistence on the communal fist-pump. It was wonderful, such a perfectly twisted song with which to ignite fervour and glee - not long ago, I got an email from a Russell Crowe fan who was completely befuddled by Excursion's lyrics....Is he trying to kill the old wife so he can get a new young wife? was her mystified question - and such an unquestioning obedience to the call for defiant celebration in the face of disease and disaster and death, or even such comparatively minor troubles as disappointment and weariness and pain.

While standing in the mud at Loch Ness along with thousands of soggy souls whose spirits had just been lifted by GBS's set, it occurred to me during Excursion that it has been a very long time since I have been in the midst of a large crowd of people in which many are hearing Excursion as an unfamiliar song, particluarly a crowd that's brought few if any GBS preconceptions in with them. It's an experience which is always a delight to watch as those brand new to Excursion try to puzzle out the lyrics as the song moves rapidly along, wrinkling their brows in concentration, struggling at first to understand why a song about illness and death is being sung with such a sense of triumphant cheer, bemused smiles spreading across their faces, tentative smiles that turn to wide grins as their hearts race ahead of their brains and they find themselves shouting along and pumping their fists on demand, understanding on an intuitive level what their intellects might still be finding somewhat elusive. Once again at this show, it was warm bodies (warmer than they had been, at least) and loud voices, though the liquid being splashed about with each fist-pump was more likely to be accumulated rainwater.

At the moment, standing there among a throng of folks who were being charmed and seduced and captivated, I wasn't thinking much beyond how good this was, how fitting a conclusion was taking place to what had been a GBS performance the likes of which I hadn't seen for quite some time, and how much I had been missing seeing them play these kinds of shows. It wasn't until I began to work on editing the photos this past week that I began to think of all the times I've seen certain songs performed.  Because Excursion is such a special song, and because of how much I have loved watching Alan show how much he loves this special song, I got the bright idea to do an entry that included shots of GBS doing Excursion from the past 5 years.

It's taken me a few days of sifting through my (perpetually scattered) photo and review files to realise that I underestimated how many Excursion photos I have and overestimated my ability to remain focused on the task and resist being drawn into hours of wandering around in what has gone before. So many Excursions, some with technically great photos, others with technically great performances, both of those factors coming together every now and then with spectacular results. And then there were the especially sweet and special and memorable Excursions. All of this scattered across two hard drives and a stack of CDs, in a pile of less-than-efficiently titled folders. All of it bringing back a flood of memories of the people and the places, the faces I've seen and the music I've heard. Too much, for now at least. I still think taking one song and finding photos across the years of that song being performed is a cool idea, but it's one that will have to wait for me to become much better organised and far more focused.

With far too many to choose from within any reasonable time frame, I compromised - found my Middle Ground, as it were - and chose photos of just two times Excursion was performed in the past, each time sweet and special  and memorable in its own way. Two of Yesterday's Excursions. And after those two times, the rest of the photos from Loch Ness, one of Today's Excursions.

Atlanta, Variety Theatre, Uprooted Tour, Summer of 2002

All the times I saw Darrell with GBS, I rarely saw him make many the kind of mistakes you expect to see over a long series of shows done by a band with a brutally exhausting tour schedule, and I'd never heard him make any mistakes at all when singing "his song". I guess this reputation for not messing up went much further back, given Alan's response to the one time Darrell did slip completely overboard while singing Excursion. It was in Atlanta, at the Variety Theatre during the Uprooted Tour. All was going as it should, Darrell singing as fast as he could, Alan leading his Command To Pump:

And then, for some Darrell-only-knows reason, he suddenly drew a complete blank partway through, no clue which line of this song he had been singing nearly all of his life came next. Alan, who has been known on occasion to forget the next line of similarly lifelong-sung tunes - as well as lines he has himself written - and who has apparently taken a ration of shit for that forgetting from his mates, at first did a classic double-take when he saw that Darrell had no idea what to sing. And then, as Darrell gathered himself up and muddled along, Alan broke out into a Darrell Forgot A Lyric Too! dance of celebratory delight.

Darrell, of course, kept right on singing, joined on the chorus by a still-chortling Alan, whose entire evening - perhaps entire tour - had just been made.

Oshawa, Rink, January Of 2003

There was scant advance notice for the first Great Big Sea show after Darrell left the band, but that did not stop people from finding a way to get there. Some were still shocked by the changes and fearful of what might lie ahead; others were simply worried about those who remained and wanted to show support in any small way possible. 

Even though Murray Foster had filled in for Darrell during his "paternity leave" back in the summer of 2001, that was on a European tour, so not many people coming to Oshawa knew what to expect. At that time, nobody knew for sure if Murray was going to be temporary or permanent. Nobody knew for sure if Great Big Sea was going to be temporary or permanent, either. In the midst of all the things people did not know for sure, there was one thing many believed they did know for sure: This was the end of GBS performing Excursion, since Excursion was, after all, "Darrell's song". That made no sense to me, seeing as how I thought Excursion wasn't even really "Great Big Sea's song"; it seemed to me to be Newfoundland's Song. So I argued the point, with all of the success that arguing any point has ever accomplished in the World Of GBS. Which is to say, not one bit.

The Oshawa show was so painfully sweet that writing about it nearly four years later is still a challenge. On a stage in a rink so dark as to make you wonder if there was some refuge being sought from the brightest lights, they were nervous, and so were we. They wanted badly for it to be good, and we wanted it just as badly for them. They played hard, and we cheered for everything and everyone, including that serious-looking young man with the beautiful hands who was playing bass. There were some very silly moments - undergarments tossed up on stage (with Alan trying on a rather prodigiously cupped bra) - and there very touching moments, perhaps most of all when Alan came out for a solo encore and dedicated his song, Fast As I Can, to those who had been with GBS from the beginning.

It was a beautiful and moving performance of a song not often heard on GBS's set list by this time in their career.

As soon as Alan finished singing his song, the other four members of Great Big Sea walked out onto the stage for the rest of the encores. Alan handed his guitar off to Danny. And then Alan began to sing the lead part to Excursion. The stage might have still been dark and some in the crowd might have stil been uncertain, but there was nothing but assurance to be heard in the voice of the man who was making Excursion - Newfoundland's song, Great Big Sea's song - his own song too as he persuaded this crowd to shout out loud and pump their fists in defiant celebration.

Near the very end of the tune, Sean came over and stood by Alan's side, supporting by bedevilling, as he does so very well.

And then Sean gave Alan exactly what anyone and everyone who cares about him would give him if they could. Sean gave Alan exactly what he deserves.

It took quite some time for those who resist and deny the inevitability of change to accept Alan's singing Excursion. There were some who thought GBS should retire the song altogether, and the grumbling continued. But Alan kept on, showing the same courage and resiliency and  at each successive show as he had shown this first time in Oshawa, refusing to relinquish something that clearly mattered a great deal to him. Of all the times Alan Doyle has given just cause to be proud of what he's accomplished on stage, this might have been the single moment most deserving of that pride. As always...so far.

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One the other side of many, many intervening Excursions Past, these are the rest from Excursion Present.

Yes, I do love the beautiful views of Excursion - past, present, and future.

Knowing when to face the truth is very important, and so to is knowing when to dream. That's what Loch Ness felt like - a dream, same with all of the European shows. In some ways - maybe most of all in financial ways - those shows weren't quite real, at least not in terms of how things are today. But those shows were so wonderful, so full of the Possible, that I want very much to believe they were a dream of how things might be one day in the future.

Along with knowing just when to face the truth and then knowing just when to dream, there is also knowing just when to believe.

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I'll wrap up Loch Ness next time. And thanks again to Jennifer for the set list verification; if you can't be organised, it so good to have organised friends.

"The Best Intentions" Part Four - Times Like These: Clearest Indications & Loch Ness

I'm going to try my best not to overburden this entry with words. These pictures speak well enough for themselves - they speak well enough to me, at least - especially the first two.

I don't always recall taking a particular photo; the pace of Great Big Sea's shows tends more toward breathless forgetfulness. But this one I remember clearly. It was near the end of Clearest Indication - a song I hadn't expected they would do during their short set in front of this huge crowd at Runrig's Beat The Drum Festival - and there was a quiet hush as the crowd listened attentively, a few here and there singing along. I looked up and saw this expression on Alan's face as he gazed out at the thousands of faces turned up toward the stage, up toward him.  The moment held, as did the expression, long enough to make its initial impact, long enough for me to forget about the camera, long enough for me to remember the camera, long enough for me to take the picture. When I pulled the camera away from my face, there he still was, the same expression on his face. Even when the moment finally passed and the show moved on to Consequence Free, this face remained in my memory, expression intact, impact continued.

The response to that impact was swift and powerful; it has been lasting as well. That's a dangerous face is what I thought at the time. It's what I thought again when I first saw the photo, and it's what I'm thinking as I look at that picture now. A face that gives a glimpse into the intensity of the desires felt by its bearer, as well as an inkling of the high cost to himself of the relentless demands that come from without, more so from within. A Never Look Back face for the bearer, an Impossible To Turn Away From face to the beholder who sees, accepts, and who then cares beyond regret. A very dangerous face, dangerous and beautiful and irrefuseable, a face that might very well be the perfect embodiment of the song he is singing.

In some ways, this second photo is of perhaps of an even more dangerous face, this danger being the overwhelming abundance of sweetness and delight that provokes within the beholder both the wish and the will for circumstances to always be whatever they must be to keep that smile blazing, those deepest desires met and those relentless demands satisfied, at least for this one night.

This is the quintessential Ordinary Day(This Show Went Great!) face, during which song this photo was taken.

A This Is Why face, eliciting a Yes, I Know response. My Mom, who had a penchant for Bible quotations, would have called this a Bears All, Believes All, Hopes All, Endures All face. And if I had asked her whether this description was of the bearer or the beholder, she would have smiled inscrutably, a twinkle in her eyes, and held her tongue. I can't write my own smile or twinkle; imagination will have to suffice. 

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Off and on for the past week or so - while I've been slowly uploading a few photos a day via the glacial speed of my dialup - I've been thinking about how to write about Clearest Indication, at Loch Ness and before. I wanted to find a way to write about how the effect of this song has changed and altered over the past five years, going from the New Discovery delight of the first brand new GBS CD released after I'd found out about them, to the excitement of seeing the song performed live throughout the Sea Of No Cares Tour, to that bittersweet time when the Clearest video was first released, right around the time Darrell left GBS.

That was when a a group of fans who wanted to do something, anything, to show their support for the remaining GBS band members decided that the best support attempt they could make would be to keep voting (and voting and voting and voting) for the Clearest Indication video on the daily Much More Music Top 10 Videos program, hoping that maybe this small thing might be some encouragement to GBS as they now were. I wanted to write about how that continuing effort caused some of those stubbornly voting fans to wind up watching the MMM show, as well as the Clearest video, so many times that to this day, when they hear the Clearest's intro music, some can still clearly see the trees of the video's opening scene in their minds' eyes. 

There were trees this day too - it was, after all, the shores of Loch Ness - and as soon as the first notes of Clearest were played, I looked up at those trees and thought about that video and the days of hoping.

Then, inevitably, I thought about the days that followed after, of the times Clearest was played at shows with dogged weariness, even at times with a perfunctory carelessness. Then it disappeared off the set lists for quite some time, only to re-emerge during the latter parts of 2004's Something Beautiful Tour in its "trio-encore" incarnation. What had once sounded wistfully poignant now sounded unbearably painful, like frayed hope hovering on the cliff-edge of despair.  After hearing this version of Clearest a few times, I didn't think about the video anymore when I saw the three of them walk out onto the stage at encore time. I didn't see trees anymore when Alan played Clearest's opening guitar part. All I could see was their faces. When I tried to listen to the song on the SoNC CD, all I could see was their faces.

I stopped listening to the SoNC CD in the latter part of 2004.

A long time went by without hearing Clearest anywhere at all. Then, during The Hard & The Easy Tour, at their 13th-anniversary show in Cleveland in 2006, GBS played it again as their encore. It still felt like a wound unhealed by time.

It wasn't until they did Clearest again the next year, in Portsmouth, introduced with a very quiet "Here's to 14 more years together" from Alan, that the potential hope inherent in the song had once again taken the ascendancy over the potential despair equally inherent in the song.

Clearest is at its heart a song about uncertainty; the song's speaker(s) sits upon a knife edge, precariously balanced between a hope for clarity that keeps the speaker seeking the answer he still believes might be out there, with the threat of despair to be heard in his beginning to question the point of wondering anymore, his beginning to doubt the existence of any bearable answer to his question. The song ends with an aching expression of need. Whether it plays with hope or with despair depends on what, if any, answer the listeners are persuaded to believe the speaker might receive.

In Portsmouth, for the first time in years, Clearest played like its speaker might possibly get his answer, and that it might be the answer his heart most desired. It played with hope. It happened again when they did it in Asheville.

And at Loch Ness, there were trees.

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These are photos of the closing songs of the Loch Ness GBS main set, from Clearest Indication through Ordinary Day. I'll put up the encore shots as soon as they too laboriously upload via dialup. For the sake of variety, I've put the closeups immediately after the photos from which they come. I'm very sorry there's no Murray and not much Kris to be seen here, but I do have a couple of adorable closeups of the two of them for next time, taken during Excursion.

The rain and wind got worse as the set came to its close - that wind did make for some gorgeous blowing-hair shots - and that affected the photos a bit, especially that glow to be seen on Alan's white sleeves in a few photos. The rain wound up affecting the camera even more, but I would not realise this till the next afternoon at the Beautiful Days Festival.

Clearest Indication, full-band version.

Consequence Free.

Mari Mac.

Not that I don't feel the same about all of the other photos, and all of the other moments, but even more so with this photo and this moment: I think Alan looks spectacular here.

Closing out the main set with Ordinary Day, beginning with a blistering opening guitar part. Looking damn spectacular here too.

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One last thing to say before I wander off to bed. Someone I care about got hurt recently, for no reason other than that this person cares about me. That sucks mightily, and it is totally unfair. I do know that this is not a fair world, and I know even better that getting hurt is part and parcel of caring. But it still sucks. Saying something - here or anywhere else - does not a bit of good when it comes to diminishing that hurt. I know that too. But remaining silent about it feels too much like implying that the hurt is something that is forgettable, dismissable, unimportant, not pertinent. It is none of those things. As ineffectual a response as this is, I am saying how sorry I am that this hurt happened. For all the good that does.

"The Best Intentions" Part Three - Great News And Great Views: Hawksley Workman And The New GBS CD & The Kissable Rock Star At Loch Ness

ETA: Again, no apologies whatsoever about this edit-in. What a excellent way of finding out that the news of Hawksley Workman and Great Big Sea working together on the new GBS CD is most definitely true - nothing less than video evidence for proof of the claim:

Video of Great Big Sea and Hawksley Workman at the Great Big Studio

They look great in this video; that's a very appealing couch, as well as a pair of adorably trusting - and apparently quite cuddly - pups they have in their studio, not to mention an absolutely lovely floor, momentarily breathtaking even, when seen up close. Best of all, what can be heard sounds very good too, especially that beautifully intricate guitar line Alan is playing, several times over at Hawksley's behest. That really was spectacular, exactly as he wants it to be. I do believe this is going to be a wonderful ride.

Last but not least, inexcusably belated but completely sincere kudos to GBS and their website management team for making this video accessible to all, no signups for or logging on to the site required.

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News that if true - and I do so hope it is true - bodes very well for the happiness of this man. It bodes just as well for the hopes of some excellent new music from Great Big Sea.

From the October 14-20 edition of The Newfoundland Herald:

He's rocked George Street and the Delta ballroom, but alternative rocker HAWKSLEY WORKMAN is in Newfoundland these days with his producer's hat on.

Spotted last week at St. John's airport with Séan McCann of GREAT BIG SEA, Workman, known for such albums as Lover/Fighter and Treeful of Starling, is in town to help produce new albums from that band and HEY ROSETTA!, a representative from Sonic Records has confirmed.

It's expected Great Big Sea, one of this province's most successful bands ever, will go back to a more rocking sound on their upcoming album, the followup to the traditional album, The Hard and The Easy. Their last rock record, Something Beautiful, was released in 2003.

Meanwhile, alternative band Hey Rosetta!, keeping busy with another national tour, is expected to start work on the followup to their debut CD, Plan Your Escape, shortly with Workman at the helm. - Kevin Kelly

Hello, Isadora. Hail and well met.

If this is true - yes, I know, good to remember to remain somewhat wary about what gets reported in the TV Guide - I think it's fantastic news. Hawksley Workman (and check out his MySpace site too, especially for a few most-intriguing prose-writing samples, some of which remind me distinctly of the style of a fellow by the name of  Russell Crowe) is a brilliant artist - unique, impassioned, mutable...relentlessly honest, prodigiously talented, and umcompromisingly himself.  Hawksley Workman is the kind of artist who marches to the different beat he's playing on his own drum, along with a dozen or so other self-played instruments making up that one-man marching band. He is the embodiment of "alternative," in every sense of that too-often-carelessly-used word .

Hawksley Workman is also a spectacular performer. The first time I ever saw him live - on stage immediately before GBS at the George Street Festival in 2004 - he was mesmerising, a wild and bewitching cross between rock star and vaudeville performer, porn stud and poet, playing mulitiple instruments, dancing with broom handles, and doing things with a feather boa that made me come close to going and finding Alan to make sure  he was seeing all of this too. All I could think of at the time was how much I wanted to see Hawksley Workman and Alan Doyle on stage together, that and for the two them to write songs together too. If I'd been coherent enough then to think about CD production, I'd have probably thought it the other way around - Alan producing one of Hawksley's CDs. But this option is equally excellent, though I'd still give very much to see two such consummate performers working hard to out-do each other on any stage in any place at any time.

Actually, Sean and Hawksley could probably come up with some interesting co-writes as well, even if they might tend a bit more toward poetic flights of fancy than is my own preference. There's a good chance that Hawksley and Bob could wind up throttling each other if they tried to write together. I think I'll just stick with my hopes for a Doyle/Workman collaboration one day. Along with the newfound hope for a Workmanlike GBS CD. 

I'd heard about Hawksley's plans to produce the new Hey Rosetta! CD - and I hope he can help that band find the focus and control they need to realise the wealth of potential that I keep hearing buried way down deep in their current music - but hadn't heard a word about him working with GBS.  All I'd heard about the new GBS CD was that it was going to be a "departure" from what's been done before. That word certainly piqued my interest, but I didn't push for more information, mostly because I was afraid the giver of the information would feel guilty if more wound up being said. All I said in response was that GBS's past choices for their CDs have given me good reason to trust their future choices. But I must confess that the word "departure" got my heart to beating a bit faster. I was thinking about my favourite Rock Star, the Man With The Rock-And-Roll Soul. I was thinking about the eager 14-year-old boy playing air guitar in front of the mirror on Friday nights. I was hoping that man, that boy, was going to get his chance to rock hard.

I've spent enough time in journalism and more than enough time around spin to understand that when the phrase "It's expected" is used, more often than not whatever's being so "expected" is not much more than the writer's own sourceless speculation. Hawksley's own most-recent CD was certainly not what many had expected it to be. And, again, this is the TV Guide I'm quoting here. So I will (reluctantly) take the "will go back to a more rocking sound" with the requisite grain of salt. But I am for sure going to keep right on hoping this is true. I love it when that man, that boy, gets what he wants.

Whether Hawksley Workman winds up as the Producer of, the Co-producer of, or simply the Supplier Of Artistic Input to the new GBS CD, it's good news regardless.  Even if it turns out that all they do is fight like cats and dogs for the next few weeks - while Hawksley seems like a match made in Heaven to be Sean's best buddy and a fitting artistic/performance peer of Alan's, I am thoroughly bemused by thoughts of how he and Bob might get on -  still, GBS  is going to be getting a dynamic, opinionated, restlessly creative and utterly fresh perspective on their new music. An alternative perspective. As Alan has been known to say in the past, sometimes it takes someone from the Outside to help you appreciate the full worth of what you have.

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On to the great views, up close and beautiful for starters. What I was noticing again and again during GBS's set at the Loch Ness Beat The Drum show were Alan's lips. It kept looking like he was thinking about wanting to be kissed. Or perhaps it was just me, thinking that he looked like he needed to be kissed.

This one is probably a bit blurry for a closeup, but I could not, can never, resist that sweet face. Talk about The Kissable Rock Star.

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Again, not a great shot. But it is one of the few of Sean and Bob that turned out halfway decent in the rain. These are from Paddy Murphy.

Not sure what was going on over to the far left of that big crowd during Paddy Murphy, but both Alan and Kris seem to be interested in whatever it was.

And there is that sweet face again. Rain? What rain?

Then it was finally time for the Rock Star to strut his stuff up on the big stage in front of the massive crowd. It was time to be King.

I think that given this excellent news about the new GBS CD (I know, I know...TV Guide, grain of salt...but I am still going to hope), it's the perfect time and the perfect place to end this entry. Next time for the GBS song that has gone from hope to dread and back to hope again, and how that song played along the shores of Loch Ness. That, and the moment that was one of the most moving, and most enlightening, of all such moments at the European GBS shows. Next time. For now, it's time to Rock On.

"The Best Intentions" Part Two - Still Hearing The Snares In The Square: Loch Ness Beat The Drum Festival & What Great Big Sea Does Best

First and foremost, before anything else need be said...one moment to appreciate a gorgeous view of an absolutely beautiful man, shown here doing what he does better than anyone else.

Photo taken during a performance of River Driver that was so awesome as to command the rapt attention of nearly 20,000 people at the Beat The Drum Festival.

Then again, why take just one moment for appreciation when several more moments will do even better? All of these from the first few songs at the same show.

Actually, the full-size versions of these that can be found below are even more gorgeous. Even sexier too. But first a few words before heading into those even-more-gorgeous, even-sexier views. Not too many words this time, though. No sense waiting any longer than is absolutely necessary for the gorgeous and the sexy.

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Many of those who are not cursed/blessed with the trait of stubbornness are firmly convinced that those of us who are so cursed/blessed wield that characteristic only against others, primarily themselves. What they don't realise is that stubbornness is indeed a double-edged knife; we can be equally as stubborn with ourselves, if not more so, as we are with others.

I had my mind set on what order I wanted to follow in writing about the most recent Great Big Sea shows; I wanted to start out with the show nearest and dearest to my own heart, and then work from that point through the rest. I had loved all the recent European shows, thought each of them to be good and as sweet and, best of all, free: Loch Ness was moving and inspiring and made me so proud of them I nearly started to cry like a fool, especially seeing Alan as that boy who played each song like it was his last, standing now in front of the cheering thousands; at the London show, the hot, moist, hurricane-force wind that swept down from the Borderline stage with a fierce urgency made me dizzy and weak in the knees, rocked hard from head to toes; Beautiful Days was a bold delight, a challenge accepted with cocky courage and a victory handily won; and both Tønder shows, actually three shows when you include that priceless treasure of a moment with Alan and Danu in the Old Mill, were so exquisitely sweet that they could have totally won my heart all on their own, had not that heart already been irrevocably handed over quite some time ago. But as wonderful as it had all been, there was still one show I'd loved most of all, and I wanted to write next about that show.

But no matter how much I'd planned on writing about the eager and open-hearted joy of the second Tønder show, it was Loch Ness that kept coming to my mind. Then when I thought that perhaps it would be better to follow Alan's own example and stick to a sequential path, writing next about the Borderline after what I'd already written for Beautiful Days, still it was Loch Ness that kept drawing me back. It was clear that there was something I needed to understand about this show, and until I figured out what that something was, the doggedly persistent focus was not going to shift.

Stubborn, as always. To every thing there is a time and a season, including capitulation. I started working on the Loch Ness photos in earnest, and I kept thinking about the show.

I'm still working on those photos, still thinking too. I've got no set list for this show anymore - whatever I wrote must have melted in the incessant rain, the same as most everything else melted in the incessant rain that day - and I can't always tell which photos go with which songs. But that's not what's important, not about this show. What's important about this show is memory: remembering how it felt, remembering the crackle of heat and energy that shot through the crowd as what I (quite subjectively) considered to be the Very Best Band Of The Day - during their set, I had to sternly repress the urge to jump up and down, pointing to the stage and crying out triumphantly, "That's my band! Aren't they great?...See that gorgeous fellow who's so spectacular up there? He's the man I came to see!" - transformed a huddled horde of half-drowned solitary souls into A Crowd, into a unified group of people no longer isolated by personal boundaries, into a group now ready and willing to share this experience with one another.

Great Big Sea cannot save your soul, and Great Big Sea cannot supply you with your happiness fix or your personal validation or your self-worth. Great Big Sea cannot turn back the clock and return you to your lost youth, and Great Big Sea cannot protect you from the reality of the present or shelter you from the uncertainty of the future. Great Big Sea can do none of these things. But what Great Big Sea can do, what Great Big Sea did do in a muddy field along the shores of Loch Ness beneath a rainy Scottish summer's sky, is persuade people to step beyond their boundaries for a few fleeting moments and become a part of something larger than their individual selves, something capable of sharing music and laughter and energy together.

This is what Great Big Sea is capable of doing better than any other performers I have ever encountered, and at this show in this muddy field on this rainy Scottish day, Great Big Sea did it as well as I have ever seen them do it before.  On this day, they too stepped beyond their boundaries for those few fleeting moments and became something larger than their own individual selves. On this day, they came close to being everything they are capable of being.

I want to say that on this day Great Big Sea was who they could be, if that's what they choose to be. I want to believe that's true, that no matter what expectations and demands and prejudices and assumptions they are confronted with, individually and collectively, no matter what complications and complexities an often-harsh reality might force upon them - they would still have the free choice to be all that they were at this show on any day and in any place, maybe most of all with any crowd, yet to come.  And the equally free choice to be otherwise.  Either way, they're always going to be the Very Best Band Of The Day to me. Either choice, that gorgeous fellow who's performing spectacularly up there is always going to be the man I came to see.

Either way, either choice, I am never going to forget how wonderful they were at Loch Ness.

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Pictures so far of the first few songs, with more to come fairly soon.

GBS up on the Big Stage, opening with the perfect choice of Process Man, performing it like it was their last song ever and immediately catching the crowd's attention.

Following Process Man with Captain Kidd, to gratefully enthusiastic crowd response.

The drummer focused and in focus, the front man a blur of irrefuseable energy.

Some pictures need sound effects...here, you need the imagination to hear the roar of thousands. But memory is so much better.

Every now and then, I tear my gaze away from Alan long enough to get a good Murray photo, sometimes even one or two photos even good enough to crop as closeups.

But the steady rain made it difficult to shoot across the stage toward Sean and Bob. A few photos turned out fairly well, though.

Alan In Motion, forever and always a glorious sight to behold. Final chord of Captain Kidd, I believe.

I'm reasonably sure this is at the end of Lukey, but not quite as sure of that as I am sure of how much I like it when Alan's holding a triumphant fist up high.

The rest of the photos here (except for the final Lovely End shot) are from River Driver. Even though GBS did some of the usual and expected "standards" at this show (Paddy Murphy, Mari Mac, etc.), this song - a song that I'm guessing hardly anyone among all of those thousands of people had ever heard before - was the song that caused a reverent hush to fall over the huge crowd, a hush that was transformed into a palpable sense of awe as the performance progressed.

I've seen GBS perform River Driver a goodly number of times - starting from the first time they ever performed it at a show, back at Wolftrap in the summer of 2005 - and so many of those performances have been amazing, breathtaking, compelling. GBS's Loch Ness River Driver came very close to being the best I have ever seen them do. So far.

This is the photo I was particularly referring to when I said the full-size versions are even more gorgeous and sexier than are the cropped closeups.

Finally, to close out this entry, I'll end with the particular end I find most lovely of all. The photo is heading into Paddy Murphy, but I'll save that for next time, that and the rest of what it was I finally understood about this show, as well as where it was I saw the dear, determined boy who learned every part of every song he could so he'd be ready when the call came, the boy who never looked back. All of that later. Now is the right time for the perfect end.