Heart and Soul: The Mike Veal Band, Most Wednesdays at the Tin Roof Cantina

Band performances are not always just band performances. In this article, I explain how the Mike Veal Band is something more.

It’s a typical Wednesday night at the Tin Roof Cantina, and the regulars trickle, then stream in, greeting each other like long lost friends, sharing tables with strangers, and squeezing in on the dancefloor together in partners and trios and singles. None are too old, too young, or too different to not be welcomed into the mix, and many have come to see the Mike Veal band in this area, in varied iterations, for over 27 years, first at Fuzzy’s and then at the Tin Roof Cantina. Most local bands can only dream of this loyal a following.

There doesn’t seem to be a setlist, and it is never the same show twice. However, you can count on a lot of funk, classic rock, and love songs from the 60’s and 70’s. They seem to know everything from the Allman Brothers to Led Zeppelin to Bill Withers to Glen Campbell to Sly and the Family Stone, and the crowd is heavily skewed toward those who heard these songs first as teens and young adults. These songs mean something to this crowd, and when somebody requests something they need to hear that night, the MVB will find a way to make it happen, even if they’ve never played it before.

Tom Grose immediately pulls up from memory every nuance of every instrument in every part of the song, then directs the band through it, pantomiming drum effects, mouthing lyrics if needed, and calling out key changes, all while singing and improvising complex keyboard solos that are better than those on the original recordings. Once, when I’d had a few drinks, I spontaneously hopped up and said to him, “You are amazing and a genius!” This is not an exaggeration. Come and ye shall see.

The other constant in the band is Mike Veal’s textured and tender vocal delivery and ability to remember lyrics to what must be hundreds of songs, Younger vocalists, in particular, use an iPad or phone to help with memory, but there is something different about a song sung by heart. You can call out words from a screen or you can bring out the soul behind lyrics you’ve massaged for decades, and Mike does the latter.

Chris Blackwell has been called one of the area’s top guitarists by those who know, and how he can master not just the notes but the sentiments in songs written before he was born, I don’t know. Yet, despite all that, he stands at the side of the stage all modest and unassuming - then blows your mind with solos that do justice to Jimmy Page, Duane Allman, and many others.

It is fun to watch the bass player, Greg High, completely in pocket, often rocking with eyes closed, and the drummer’s (Chris Burroughs) non-flashy but essential eloquence. There is a dynamic between the two that is, in itself, powerful to watch, and both inject the calcium into the strong backbone needed for the others to do their thing.

The common denominator between the audience and the band, is, of course, the music. In this case, most of it is from nearly a half century ago. Has there been great music since? Well, maybe, but the songs the MVB play so reverently remind us of a special time in history, personally and collectively, when there was hope for the future in the promise of love.

And while the crowd has grown older, and, while heartbreak and sorrow has most likely touched everyone there many times over, hope and promise are rekindled when these songs are played, although it’s mellowed into something a little different than it used to be. Well-seasoned people know by this time that love is more than romance and that we can’t change the world. But be that as it may, we can change a little piece of it by giving each other the best we’ve got – not because we have to, not because of a reward, but because it is the right thing to do. “It’s the biggest lovefest in town,” one fan told me, and he is right; It’s a campfire kept burning by those who care about the music and care about each other.

When everything seems crazy, when “quiet quitting” on each other is a thing, when the easy way becomes the common way, when the love of self replaces the love of one’s neighbor, there is one small corner of the world a few hours a week where things are the way they are supposed to be. It’s a place where people give the best they’ve got every single time, every single song, and where all are accepted into a circle of peace, love, and music.

If you look closely, what you’ll see in the Mike Veal Band is far more than a good band playing to an enthusiastic crowd. It is a reminder of what true “excellence” means, an ember of light in a dark world and a musical manifestation of the meaning of heart and soul. When you stumble upon the rare micro-world with these qualities, you want to visit it again and again. I do, anyway, and I think their other fans would agree.