Wine, Woman, and Song: Mini-Review of The Trouble Tones at Rootstock, November 6, 2021
What makes an experience an EXPERIENCE are the surprises - the unexpected novelty, things combined in unusual and unexpected ways, and, especially, the turning upside-down of pre-conceived notions. When our brains reconfigure what we thought we knew, the effect is pleasure or pain. It was definitely pleasure last Saturday night at Rootstock, and I learned a few things.
I have come to expect little, musically-wise, from most of my fellow Woodstockians. While great music abounds in our little town, I can count very few shows where more than a handful of people were engaged in that communal give-and-take that make music a soul-enriching experience. Like a pundit without a podium, I wish I knew how to encourage everyone to fully experience what could happen if they could just tune in a little more. This is why I often travel 45 minutes or more to seedy bars in seedy places – to be with like-minded people in that magical musical sphere. However, given that one of my favorite blues bands was playing, I decided to stay in my neck of the woods on Friday evening and go to Rootstock. I expected good wine (it’s Rootstock, after all) and decent 12-bar blues.
This was the first time that I had visited their newly-opened “listening room”. Tiffany-blue walls, strategic lighting, and contemporary mahogany finishes somehow worked with the more speakeasy elements of stairs-to-a-backroom, exposed ceilings and weathered brick stage backdrop. But while the setting was lovely and pleasant, I did not expect to have a musically-communal experience like I would at, say, Blind Willie’s or Northside Tavern.
However, when the Trouble Tones took the stage, it took about five minutes for the audience to quiet their discussions and engage, and I mean really engage. They whooped and hollered, they sang along, they tapped and nodded, and they laughed heartily at the stage banter. Part of this was due to the orchestration of singer Patrick Vinings, whose humble and kind manner and obvious love for the music belies his shrewd ability to read an audience, know how to capture their attention, and set up the tension and release throughout the show to keep them there. And he did keep them there – I saw very few people leave the entire three-hour time. It’s an ability that few frontpeople I’ve seen possess – the ability to forego the high of being the center of attention in favor of genuinely caring to ensure that the audience is having a good time.
Another pleasant surprise was Danny Vinson (The Cazanovas/Rae and the Royal Peacocks), who guest-starred on often BB King-like guitar solos and Jackson Allen (Breeze Kings) who came in with rousing harmonica and vocals, looking and sounding a little like young Elvis. My only complaint the whole night was that I wished the sound on the saxophone had been turned up higher. Sax is one of those instruments where you WANT the solos to fill up your ears and grab you in the heart with that somehow pleasant screech. But other than that, the sound and lighting were perfect.
As I’ve said in many reviews, the Blues are universal. Whether the songs are happy or sad or just silly, there is something special about that 12-bar space between music and vocals that makes us think of the joys and sorrows of life a little differently. I hadn’t seen much in the way of the Blues in Woodstock (Maxwell’s Cigar Bar excepted), and I applaud Anna’s efforts to bring them to an audience who might not be as inclined as your author to go seek them out.
The right combination of venue, band, and libations can be magic. It was for me, and it was for my peers. I am sorry for pre-judging you, my listening-challenged Woodstockian neighbors. All you needed were the Blues. Thank you, Rootstock, for bringing them to us.
