Thirty-six years ago today, I was newly-transferred into the State University of New York at New Paltz, unstoppable in a hand-me-down 1980-something white Plymouth Reliant K-Car and heading south toward Landover, Maryland, to see opening night of my favorite band’s 1990 spring tour.

My traveling companion and I knew this would not be a typical opening night run of shows for the Grateful Dead. The second night of the three-night run would be a celebration of bass player Phil Lesh’s 50th birthday and whatever happened, or didn’t happen, would be spectacular. You could just feel it in the air.

Yeah, that night’s tour opener was awesome. But nobody saw what was coming for night two. Phil’s 50th birthday and, dare I say—The Ides of March—loomed large.

The Maryland posse that adopted me —friends of my traveling companion—threw down hard in the parking lot for the pre-show tailgate. Our rage was on, and was such a rager that the lot of us forgot we were going in to see a Grateful Dead concert. That’s how much fun we were having in the parking lot. How’s that for a good omen, a good harbinger of what Landover, Maryland, had in store for this kid from the New York City suburbs?

We all headed into the Capital Center and I immediately lost everyone. I ended up in the 100 level of seatingon Phil’s side—stage right for those following along at home. Was that my actual Grateful Dead Ticket Sales seat? I’ll never know! Did it matter? Certainly not at that point. Or maybe it did? I’ll never know!

Phil Lesh expressing great delight at seeing Hunter Mountain covered with Deadheads at the Mountain Jam music festival in New York in 2007. Photo by John W. Barry

I walked in as Bob Weir sang, “Leaving Texas/Fourth day of July/Sun so hot/The clouds so low/The eagles filled the sky” during the opening song, “Jack Straw.”

Ok, I thought, I hadn’t missed Phil dropping one of his musically-ignited-clear-the-launchpad-tighten-that-stars-and-stripes-no-facemask-football-helmet-chin-strap bass “bombs” yet. I realized right then, right there, that the band knew I was still in the parking lot, getting my bearings, and had yet to enter the arena. They were waiting for me, I thought—no, I KNEW they had waited for me. As they had so many times, and would so many times after this show, the Grateful Dead never left me behind.

Next up was “Sugaree.” The roar of the crowd and their clapping along to Jerry Garcia’s groove was pure celestial divinity. Please, click here to listen to the whole show.

The night just got better from there. The third song of the evening was the first breakout of the Dead song, “Easy to Love You,” since 9-3-80 at the Springfield Civic Center in Springfield, Mass.

During the song’s chorus, “You don’t know how easy it is/You don’t know how easy it is/To love you”—Phil and Jerry locked eyes and were singing to each other. Two brothers. Two partners-in-crime. Two co-conspirators, conspiring as one will with a co-conspirator, in the cause of all good things and righteous.

Fast forward to the beginning of the second set. As the fellas tuned up, a wave of energy swept through the roughly 20,000 people in attendance. It surely started with one Deadhead singing “Happy Birthday” to Phil. In a few moments, all 20,000 of us were singing. Then the band joined in on their instruments. I can’t confirm this 100 percent, but I do believe the earth opened and swallowed us all whole, along with the Cap Center, St. George’s County and the State of Maryland. It’s OK, we all returned in time for the second set opener, “China Cat Sunflower>I Know You Rider.”

I bring all of this up because today is March 15, the Ides of March and what would have been Phil Lesh’s 86th birthday. Some might say this is a sad day, following Phil’s passing on 10-25-24. I, however, take exception to this forlorn perspective! Today is a day to celebrate Phil Lesh! Every day is a day to celebrate Phil Lesh!

Head down to the Capitol Theatre in Port Chester, NY, tonight, to join in the spectacle and mayhem that is live music as Phil’s son, Grahame, celebrates his father’s love for Deadheads everywhere with the culmination of four-nights of triumphant performances that will never be repeated anywhere!!!

While you’re down there, be sure to take a few moments for yourself while gazing up at the “Phil Lesh Lane” sign installed on March 14, 2025, through the efforts of Capitol Theatre proprietor Peter Shapiro, a close friend of Phil’s who welcomed him for many shows, with our good friends at the Village of Port Chester.

I paid a visit some months ago and was left breathless at my first sight of the sign. I also got all filled up at what sprung up AROUND the street sign. Now, I’m just some damn fool (yes, my birthday is April Fool’s Day!) who loves to write, and loves to write about the Grateful Dead. But I’m gonna take a step back here and let these photos—taken by Yours Truly—finish this story.

Thank you to the fine officials at the Village of Port Chester, thanks Pete Shapiro and the fine, fine team of folks at The Cap, and thank you Phil Lesh.

Phil: “As long as songs of yours are sung/You’re with us on this earth.” My apologies to Grateful Dead drummer Mickey Hart for taking liberties with the lyrics to his awesome song, co-written by the also-awesome Robert Hunter, “Down the Road Again,” from one of my favorite albums anywhere and everywhere, “Mickey Hart’s Mystery Box.”

I am reminded each day that the spirit of Phil Lesh is timeless—and so are we, if we put our heart in the right place and expect nothing in return. Ain’t life grand?

Happy Birthday Phil.

Inside the Vince Lombardi Rest Area on the New Jersey Turnpike.

I realize I am breaking social media overlord protocol here, but I recently switched laptops, can’t yet sign onto IG on my new laptop, and must reply to an IG comment made about by comment, which was itself a comment on the other commenter’s (party of the first part, as it were) IG post. Keeping up with me, are you all?

I could reply on mobile IG, but (in Adam Sandler voice), “so much ti-neee typing!” I started to type on LinkedIn, but always forget about their word count limit (BOO!).

So, here I am on Substack. Take that, evil social media overlords!

Anywho, the original IG post involved the Vince Lombardi Service Area on the New Jersey Turnpike, a road I know VERY well from growing up in Rockland County, NY, and traveling with my best friends in high school to concert after concert at the Meadowlands Sports Complex in another lifetime.

This Vince Lombardi Service Area story is most appropriate for LinkedIn because it is directly related to my chosen career as a music journalist. So, IG Social Media Overlords, stuff it!

In spring of ‘87 (1887, I like to say, because I’m so OLD!), I was in my senior year at Clarkstown South High School and in the midst of a senior English elective: JOURNALISM, OF COURSE! We were gearing up to publish a one page, back-and-front newspaper sometime in advance of what would be my first Grateful Dead concert, at the Brendan Byrne Arena, at the Meadowlands in East Rutherford, NJ, and I had a great news peg.

Shortly before the Dead show on 4-7-87, Iron Maiden played the Byrne and their fans flipped their lids and flipped cars in the parking lot after the concert. According to the The New York Times, fire fighters were pelted by flying glass, two cars were burned and overturned and it took 75 cops, private guards and firefighters to disperse these heavy metal hooligans.

According to the New York Times, “A boy, 17, was charged with aggravated assault with a vehicle and driving under the influence of alcohol after backing his car into a state police detective, who suffered minor leg injuries.”

Suffice to say, rumors were rampant in the halls of Clarkstown South High School that tailgating for the Dead in the Byrne parking lot was officially banned. So, there went 90 percent of the reason for going to the concert in the first place.

Talk about a news peg, long before I even knew what a news peg was. So my contribution to my journalism class’s publication was an op-ed, long before I knew what an op-ed was.

The gist of the op-ed was, thank you, you law-breaking, rodent-eating, car-flipping, all around very bad heavy metal fans for destroying all the fun of tailgating for us peace-loving, free-hugs and $2 parking-lot grilled cheese sandwich-sharing Deadheads. You’re pure evil. We are awesome. Mic drop, long before the term had even existed.

The publication is printed and distributed to every senior in homeroom, right after the Iron Maiden concert, and right before my first Dead show. I couldn’t take two steps down the hall without a fellow Deadhead friend patting me on the back and saying something to the effect of, “Great article, John. You told them!” Then, I couldn’t take another two steps without one of my heavy metal-loving friends grabbing me firmly by the arm and saying, in a most-threatening tone, “John, we read what you wrote, we’re not happy, and we’re coming for you.” No, they weren’t kidding.

At that moment, I was hooked on journalism.

IMPACT, IMPACT, IMPACT! My writing had reached my classmates in such a profound manner, I was hooked. The feedback, good and bad, left me empowered. Journalism, here I come. And now, I can look back with great pride on a 25-year career with the USA TODAY Co., Inc. Network, a book written with the great Levon Helm of The Band and freelance articles for RollingStone.com.

But back to 1887, um, I mean 1987.

So 4-7-87 had arrived and anticipation ran high. We finished our school day, rounded up our four-person posse and, before hopping on the Palisades Interstate Parkway, which would take us to the NJ Turnpike, our drive somehow brandished a can of white spray paint. He spray painted “Dead Ahead” on the front bumper, and “Go Jerry” on the rear bumper of the mostly-yellow, partly brown rust and partly gray bondo 1973 Chevy Nova he had purchased for $500. Yes, we were ready for launch.

In the wake of the Iron Maiden spectacle, and the no tailgating rumors, word spread that the tailgating scene would relocate to the Vince Lombardi Service Area, just across the Turnpike from the Meadowlands. Thinking things through wasn’t our strong quality back then, so we headed there for our first stop.

Vince Lombardi, we must mention, in addition to having received the distinct honor and high privilege of having a New Jersey Turnpike Rest Area named after him (Jon Bon Jovi has one on the Garden State Parkway) is a member of the New Jersey and National Football League Hall of Fames.

Vince served as an assistant football coach at St. Cecilia, a Catholic high school in Englewood—located less than eight miles from the rest stop. He also taught Latin, chemistry, algebra, and physics there; and later became the head coach of the football, basketball and baseball teams. His football team won six state championships and at one point, won 36 games in a row.

Lombardi coached football at Fordham University in the Bronx; West Point; for the New York Giants, who have played at the Meadowlands for years; and the Green Bay Packers. He ultimately generated a jaw-dropping NFL career record of 105 wins, 35 losses and six ties, with five NFL titles, all in just 10 seasons.

The NFL Super Bowl trophy is the Vince Lombardi Trophy. So yeah, this guy certainly deserves his own rest area on the New Jersey Turnpike.

So, back to 4-7-87.

I had never been to this rest area before, and I have not been there since.

And, surprise, surprise, on 4-7-87 there was not a Deadhead in sight, no tailgating, no scene, no partying, no indication that one of the highest-grossing touring rock bands in history would be performing within walking distance, albeit across a major highway and through the swamps of Jersey, in an arena named for New Jersey’s two-term governor. It’s worth noting that Brendan T. Byrne, like me, was born on April Fool’s day; like me, he grew up in a family of five children; and like my late father, served in the U.S. Army Air Corps during World War II as a navigator on a B-17 Flying Fortress bomber in the European Theater.

We passed through the rest area and paid our silent homage to Vince and headed for the Brendan Byrne. However, New Jersey highways are not like New York highways—which are clear cut, designed for getting from point A to point B and rarely cause me indigestion. New Jersey highways, for the most part, are none of these things and less.

So we leave the rest area, can see the Brendan Byrne and somehow end up headed toward one of the tunnels leading to New York City. We are totally traveling in the opposite way at this point and there is that huge mound of earth in the middle of all this, which the Grateful Dead most cleverly included, on the back cover, was it, of a live release of concerts at the Meadowlands, called “Saint of Circumstance,” after one of my favorite Grateful Dead songs. Thank you, Grateful Dead!

Anywho, we round the mound and enter a very crowded NJ Turnpike heading north. Huzzah! We’re definitely in the right place. But time is ticking so what do we do? We take to the shoulder and leave all those suckers in traffic behind! Huzzah again!

But our triumph is short-lived. We round yet another bend, this time on the shoulder, and a state trooper is just standing there, telling us by pointing that we need to pull over. We had a brown paper bag in the front seat (WHAT?) with sandwiches on top of beer.

As he was reading us the riot act, the state trooper said something to the effect of “You don’t want me to look in that bag, do you?” Our driver, in a very clever move, lifted one of the sandwiches out of the bag and told the officer it was dinner. We got some kind of ticket and off we went to the show.

We had nosebleed seats so I set off for the 100 levels and stuck as close to Jerry Garcia as I could. This was my first time seeing Garcia live and I have never been the same since. I never looked back.

Between my first foray into journalism at Clarkstown South High School (GO VIKINGS!) and my first Grateful Dead concert, both within proximity to each other, my life, my calling, my vocation, my career was set.

I now look back with pride on a 25-year career with the USA Today Network, 18 as music writer. Thank you Gov. Byrne; thank you, Iron Maiden; thank you Jerry Garcia; and, of course, with a major tip of the hat, marching band and declaration of honor and gratitude from the mayor of East Rutherford, New Jersey, in the strongest of terms, THANK YOU Vince Lombardi!

Jenna Nicholls

Commuting can be brutal.

Commuting between home and work can become its own part-time job, on top of your day or night job.

I know this because I commuted to work, more than an hour one-way, for eight years. There was plenty of stress, plenty of extra maintenance on the three cars I went through over those eight years and plenty of days where I was so numb from all the commuting that I would daydream while driving and snap out of it only after two or three exits had passed and I was all, “Where did those exits go and why can’t I remember passing them?”

Not good.

Given all of this, you can imagine how my curiosity was piqued when I learned that musician Jenna Nicholls, who lives in New York State’s beautiful Hudson Valley, has released a new album called—yup, you guessed it—“The Commuter.”

“Jenna Nicholls weaves a spell with her utterly individual tapestry of sound, strumming her ukulele with the spirit of New Orleans or crooning a cowboy’s tale with the soul of the West,” reads a press release. “Her melodies, like vintage vinyl spun anew, carry the weight of memory and promise of tomorrow.”

Jenna has lined things up nicely for “The Commuter.” The album was produced by Larry Campbell, a former member of Bob Dylan’s band who served as musical director for Levon Helm and performed with Phil Lesh of the Grateful Dead, among others. And “The Commuter” was recorded and mixed by Justin Guip at his Milan Hill Studios in the Hudson Valley. Campbell and Guip have worked together often, including on Helm’s Grammy-winning records.

So, back to Jenna, the commuter in “The Commuter.”

During the pandemic, Jenna’s husband lost his job in New York City and took a job in the Town of Woodstock—yes, THAT Woodstock. He remained in Ulster County and Jenna—mindful of the unraveling economy triggered by the pandemic—kept her job in the city. She commuted to-and-from Manhattan to Ulster County, twice a week, for two years.

“It really was exhausting,” she said.

But all of that travel time gave Jenna an opportunity to reflect.

“You have a lot of time to think about your life and what’s going on and, ‘What am I doing and what am I doing with my life?’” she said. “So I would write songs on the train and a lot of those songs are about that transition time out of the city.”

Jenna quit her job in New York City, joined her husband in the Hudson Valley and decided to pursue music full time. And Jenna seems to have made a solid decision.

“Jenna Nicholls writes a beautiful song, then she delivers it with heartfelt emotion,” Campbell said, “but without pretense or artifice, giving us a glimpse into the soul that created it.”

The cover of “The Commuter,” the new album from Jenna Nicholls.

I saw Jenna perform once, in Woodstock, not far from her home in Saugerties. And I gotta say, in her live performance and on her new record—which is set for release on Oct. 10—she is charming, raw, refined and, most importantly, real.

I love finding the words that aptly describe a musician as I work to give readers a sense of who he or she is, and how their music might make folks feel.

But I gotta say, Jenna’s music, in many ways, defies description. I will say that she radiates warmth. All the puzzle pieces fit together nicely. There are no loose ends, no wrong turns. Jenna rolls down the windows, turns up the radio, applies her foot to the gas pedal and, with all of us in the back seat, turns around, smiles and says, “Hang on friends!”

Jenna puts a contemporary-cutting edge on the Great American Songbook in a most authentic manner, contributing original songs that come from her heart, tunes that the Great American Songbook is lucky to have. And I gotta say, we would all be lucky to hear Jenna sing a duet with Norah Jones. Their voices together would really elevate us all.

And the title track on “The Commuter” leaves me speechless and wanting to sob for all the right reasons.

“Jenna Nicholls’ songs land like a freight ship into the harbor of hearts and ears,” said Glen Hansard of The Swell Season. “The air changes. Pure mastery.”

Little Feat performs Saturday night, Aug. 30, 2025, at the Bearsville Theater in Woodstock, NY. From left, Bill Payne, Fred Tackett, Scott Sharrard, Tony Leone and Kenny Gradney. Not pictured is Sam Clayton. Photo by John W. Barry.

At what seemed to be 8 p.m. on the button—show time, as it were—the iconic band Little Feat, with the iconic song catalog and iconic lineup of performers, charged hard out of the gate Saturday night to kick off a three-night stand at the historic Bearsville Theater in Woodstock.

The band exploded. The capacity crowd erupted. And the message delivered by both could not have been clearer or more to the point—“Feats Won’t Fail Me Now!”

From “Fat Man in the Bathtub” and “All That You Dream” to “Willin’” and “Dixie Chicken,” and every which way in between—sideways, uptown, downtown, New Orleans, Woodstock and all points north, south, east and west—Saturday night in the global epicenter of music known as Woodstock belonged to Little Feat. And we can count on this band and this venue commanding Sunday and Monday, if there’s anything left standing in the wake left by either.

Little Feat roared. They growled. But they also delivered nuance with a tender scalpel that surgically removed the crowd’s burdens. For a few hours, it was all about rocking and rolling and twisting and shouting.

Little Feat performs Saturday night, Aug. 30, 2025, at the Bearsville Theater in Woodstock, NY. Fred Tackett is at left, with Scott Sharrard. Photo by John W. Barry.

Bill Payne worked his magic on those keyboards as he banged out those timeless, familiar and healing riffs. He re-calibrated the crowd’s north and south poles and reminded us that all is well when Little Feat rolls into town.

Fred Tackett seemed to be playing stringed instruments, but I think he really had a magic wand that cast spells and conjured bolts of lightning that were both righteous and virtuous.

Kenny Gradney on bass? Kenny is the man—plain and simple.

Sam Clayton on percussion is the glue.

Scott Sharrard did Lowell George proud, in sound and spirit. And how about those vocals and that guitar playing? Are you kidding me? Such a night.

With Bill Payne on keyboards, Little Feat performed Saturday night, Aug. 30, 2025, at the Bearsville Theater in Woodstock, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Just as he did Saturday night, Tony Leone Sunday and Monday night will reveal himself as the expressive, dynamic, commanding and magnetic drummer he has always been and will always be. Wow and wow, Tony.

The horn section was the frosting on the cake.

And hometown heroes Larry Campbell and Teresa Williams showcased why everyone who lives in Woodstock, and visits Woodstock, loves Woodstock.

Woodstock residents Larry Campbell, center, and Teresa Williams join Little Feat at the Bearsville Theater in Woodstock on Saturday, Aug. 30, 2025. Photo by John W. Barry.

Campbell was relentless on his stringed instruments. He took one guitar solo that rotated as it revolved, and kept climbing and climbing into the stratosphere. Nobody was quite sure what was going to happen, and when it did happen, it happened in a big way—a very big way.

Teresa with her vocals was wonderful, empowering and electrifying—just as she always is.

After seeing Little Feat perform Saturday night with Larry Campbell and Teresa Williams, I was reminded to lean on them all during times of struggle and regret. From now on, when I’m having a bad day, I am going to look to the heavens and offer a plea—“Feats Don’t Fail Me Now.” And you know what, they won’t—they never will.

Little Feat performs again at the Bearsville Theater, 291 Tinker St., Woodstock, NY, on Sunday, Aug. 31, and Monday, Sept. 1. Charlie Starr will be the featured guest Sunday. Robert Randolph will be the featured guest on Monday. Visit bearsvilletheater.com for information.

In early June 2013, I was at Hunter Mountain Resort in Hunter, NY, a skiing destination deep in the heart of New York’s Hudson Valley and Catskill Mountains, for the annual Mountain Jam music festival.

I have yet to miss a Mountain Jam, whether it was at Hunter from 2005 to 2018; Bethel Woods Center for the Arts on the 1969 Woodstock site in Bethel, NY, in 2019; or Belleayre Mountain Ski Resort, also in the Catskills, a few weeks ago. Mountain Jam across all of these years has hosted many famous bands, including Gov’t Mule, Phil Lesh, Bob Weir, My Morning Jacket, Coheed and Cambria, Tom Petty—and The Lumineers.

I’ve got a lot of great Mountain Jam moments to look back on. But the one involving The Lumineers is extra special.

Always grateful to receive an all-access laminated pass, I was hanging out backstage and ran into Simone Felice, who at the time was well-known for the band he was in with his brothers, The Felice Brothers. We chatted, caught up and I went on my way, leaving Simone—who grew up in the Hudson Valley’s Greene County—at his truck, which was parked behind the stage.

Shortly thereafter, The Lumineers took the stage. I think they were the headliners that year, and last to perform at Mountain Jam. Sure enough, a song or two into their set, lead singer and guitarist Wesley Schultz, I’m sure it was, stepped to the mic and announced to the crowd, “We’d like to invite our good friend, Simone Felice, to the stage!”

The Lumineers. Photo by Todd Owyoung/NBC

I had a good laugh to myself. Only in the Hudson Valley—ONLY IN THE HUDSON VALLEY—would I be chatting with Simone one minute, and the next be watching as he sat in on percussion with The Lumineers on, “Highway 61 Revisited,” I believe it was, in front of 10,000 people. Good on you, Simone and The Lumineers!

For perspective on how spark-plug ignition, thrust and liftoff have catapulted The Lumineers into the outer reaches of the galaxy since then, consider that they will perform tonight, Friday, July 11, at Citi Field in Flushing, Queens, New York City. I believe the home of the New York Mets can hold more than 40,000 for a ball game and an additional 10,000 for a concert. So, as they say, you do the math for context on the magnitude of tonight’s Lumineers show, and how both audience and band could very likely take flight together.

And now, back to Simone.

My understanding is that The Lumineers—Wes and Jeremy Fraites—really dug The Felice Brothers, and that resulted in the guys enlisting Simone as their record producer. From there, Wes and Jer really dug in as far as the Hudson Valley was concerned. Simone produced “III” and “Cleopatra,” two albums recorded by The Lumineers at The Clubhouse in Rhinebeck, across the Hudson River from Woodstock. “Cleopatra” was released in 2016. “III” came out in 2019.

Joining Simone as co-producer for 2022’s “BRIGHTSIDE” was David Baron, who has worked with Lenny Kravitz and U2 drummer Larry Mullen Jr. “BRIGHTSIDE” was recorded at Baron’s Sun Mountain Studios in Boiceville, not far from Woodstock.

Wesley Schultz and Jeremiah Fraites of The Lumineers. Photo by Noah Griffel.

For the most recent Lumineers album, “Automatic,” The Lumineers maintained their firm Hudson Valley foothold and set up shop with their team at Utopia Studios Bearsville, in Todd Rundgren’s old Utopia Studios building in the Woodstock hamlet of Bearsville. The Utopia Studios Bearsville operation is owned and operated by Pete Caigan, who is highly-respected throughout Hudson Valley and maintains a strong track record of empowering Woodstock’s storied musical legacy.

The Lumineers have in the past rehearsed at the Bearsville Theater, which like Utopia Studios is part of the Bearsville Center complex. That plot of land was originally developed by the late, legendary music impresario Albert Grossman, who managed Bob Dylan. The Bearsville Theater is now operated by national music promoter and venue owner Peter Shapiro.

The Lumineers for the better part of 2025 have been touring in support of “Automatic.”

On July 3, the band kicked off the U.S. leg of the tour at Saratoga Performing Arts Center in Saratoga Springs, NY, north of Albany. I was there and marveled, as I have in the past—I’ve seen The Lumineers a lot—at how the band members seem as dazzled and stoked by the glorious spectacle of the show as much as us in the audience.

Also at SPAC, I experienced a moment of irreversible auditory propulsion. It unfolded during the song, “Dead Sea,” right after “Ho Hey.” After ramping up “Dead Sea” into a full-on, Saturday night-romp, in true Lumineers fashion, Wes turned the dimmer way down and allowed everyone, all 25,000 of us, including himself and the band, to catch a breath.

Everything stopped for a few moments.

And then, the SPAC crowd unleashed a joyous, triumphant and determined fury of an endzone-home run cheer in celebration of themselves, The Lumineers, SPAC and the sheer joy and wonder of being alive on that very night, at that very moment. For those of us who were there for this roar, this pipeline of a sonic wave, which grew far beyond what we call sound, nothing else mattered and nothing else ever will.

I’ve been seeing concerts since 1984—a lot of concerts, mind you—including Phil Collins, Dan Fogelberg, the Grateful Dead, Bob Dylan, Santana, Phish, Ringo Starr and the post-Grateful Dead bands, all at SPAC. I have never experienced what I experienced during that moment in “Dead Sea.” I do believe I was floating. We were all floating. That roar of the crowd nudged us all into a parallel dimension, then let us back in, and back down ever so gently.

“Irreversible Auditory Propulsion.” I know The Lumineers aren’t looking to me for the name of their next album. But if they ever do, may I suggest “Irreversible Auditory Propulsion?” For an 85 percent cut of album sales, the title is all theirs. Let’s talk?

I hope, hope, hope that my fellow Lumineers tribe members get to experience their own propulsion tonight in Queens, which will be a hometown show for bass player Byron Isaacs, a New York City resident.

Byron, the former bass player for the Levon Helm Band; a member of the roots collective Ollabelle; and co-pilot of one of the best bands I’ve ever seen, ever, Lost Leaders, said the recording process for “Automatic” was inspired by another baseball park, Wrigley Field in Chicago. The Lumineers performed at Wrigley Field in 2022 and released a live album and concert film showcasing the gig at this historic venue.

Byron Isaacs, of The Lumineers, left and Peter Cole. The two musicians perform in the band Lost Leaders.

“Live From Wrigley Field,” Byron said, “made an impression on us—the material sounded more alive and more vital live than it did on the records—and we’re very proud of the records. But there is that intangible, live component that really made the songs wake up.”

Once the Lumineers team was all set up at Utopia in Bearsville, David Baron imposed some rules, Byron explained.

One of the edicts decreed that, while not everything had to be recorded live, nothing could be recorded—lead vocal, second guitar part, bass, even a shaker—without something else being simultaneously recorded. And that second recording might not even see the light of day.

The goal, Byron said, was to have the primary musician performing for the tape while someone else was joining in along on secondary vocals or another instrument. This approach created the dynamic of a live performance generating chemistry between two musicians—as if they were performing live on stage.

“Even if one of the things originally recorded gets muted, you can still feel the energy behind that interaction,” Byron said. “He imposed that statute—and by god, if it didn’t work. When we play the songs live now, it sounds more like the record than any other tour we’ve done. In its odd way, the album WAS recorded live. Everything you hear was recorded live with something else—and it really had a profound effect. I never made a record like this and I have to say it was a stroke of genius on David's part.”

David credited the chemistry between Wes and Jer with driving so much in The Lumineers universe.

“The Lumineers are successful for many reasons, but I think the reason why their live shows surpass so many of their peers is, there’s some magic about what they do together—especially Wes and Jer, just how they play together,” David said. “They’ve played together for 20 years. They grew up together.”

David mentioned the Bee Gees in the context of a concept called, “Brother Harmony.” Now, we all know about the Brothers Gibb, their chemistry, dynamic, harmony and success.

Speaking of Wes and Jer, David said, “They have ‘Brother Harmony.’”

He added, “For me, that was crucial to the audio portion of it, the recording portion, the production.”

David also said the massive size of Utopia shaped the recording process because sight lines could be adjusted; and vocals could be recorded in different sections of the studio’s huge main room. The expansive interior real estate gave the Lumineers team options that might not have been available in a smaller studio.

“We recorded vocals in different parts of the room,” David said of Wes and Jer. “If it was so good when they were rehearsing it, that’s where we recorded them.”

He continued, “We just went with what we felt inspired the guys the most. It’s true and real and it’s human and it’s locked together. To me, it’s the highest form of recording and you can only do it when the band is seasoned.”

Goose performs Sunday, June 22, at the Mountain Jam music festival at Belleayre Mountain Ski Resort, Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Mountain Jam music festival headliner Goose soared high among the Catskills this past weekend as they closed the resuscitated, reimagined and reinvented gathering just a few miles due west of Woodstock, NY.

Mountain jam featured three days of wonderful acts, from JRAD to Michael Franti and Grace Bowers to Molly Tuttle and Mikaela Davis. But Mountain Jam 2025 belonged to Goose, and Goose belonged to Mountain Jam.

After a six-year hiatus triggered by the pandemic, Mountain Jam returned with a roar and the Goose ushered this magical musical gathering into its next era. And yeah, those Catskills sure are beautiful.

Goose performs Sunday, June 22, at the Mountain Jam music festival at Belleayre Mountain Ski Resort, Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Goose performs Sunday, June 22, at the Mountain Jam music festival at Belleayre Mountain Ski Resort, Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Goose performs Sunday, June 22, at the Mountain Jam music festival at Belleayre Mountain Ski Resort, Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Goose performs Sunday, June 22, at the Mountain Jam music festival at Belleayre Mountain Ski Resort, Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Goose performs Sunday, June 22, at the Mountain Jam music festival at Belleayre Mountain Ski Resort, Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Goose performs Sunday, June 22, at the Mountain Jam music festival at Belleayre Mountain Ski Resort, Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Goose performs Sunday, June 22, at the Mountain Jam music festival at Belleayre Mountain Ski Resort, Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Goose performs Sunday, June 22, at the Mountain Jam music festival at Belleayre Mountain Ski Resort, Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Goose performs Sunday, June 22, at the Mountain Jam music festival at Belleayre Mountain Ski Resort, Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Goose performs Sunday, June 22, at the Mountain Jam music festival at Belleayre Mountain Ski Resort, Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Goose performs Sunday, June 22, at the Mountain Jam music festival at Belleayre Mountain Ski Resort, Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Michael Franti performs with his band, Spearhead, at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Saturday, June 21, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry

Clear skies, gently-sloping mountains as far as the eye could see and the return of the sacred, forgiving, enlightening, righteous, empowering and get-down-funky-feel-your-in-the Catskills-yo-Mountain Jam vibe commandeered Belleayre Mountain Ski Center, the community of Highmount, the County of Ulster and the entire Hudson Valley region this weekend.

In just a few words, I declare, for all the land to hear (ancient scroll unfurls), after a six-year, pandemic-triggered hiatus—MOUNTAIN JAM IS BACK, BABY!

Grace Bowers stole the weekend for me. Michael Franti & Spearhead once again made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Mikaela Davis rocked, rocked and rocked some more. Our brothers in moe.—it was SO good to see and hear you. And Goose! Goose! GOOSE!

I learned to ski at Belleayre when I was about 12-years-old. That was many moons ago. And I saw Livingston Taylor perform at Belleyare, when they would put that tent up in the parking lot, in the late 1990s, I think it was.

So returning to this beautiful Catskill Mountain destination held tremendous meaning for me. And I’ve never missed a Mountain Jam! And my streak continues!

I rode the gondola to the top of the slope; enjoyed the buskers up there; and got chatting with Ben Cooper of Mike’s Amazing, a Mountain Jam sponsor. Mike’s is a condiment racket, and they deliver on the goods. I was stoked to receive a card for a free hot dog from Mike, which just elevated my entire Mountain Jam experience. Sure, Mick and Keith could have shown up at Mountain Jam and that would have been awesome. But I got a free hot dog, and that’s a major win for this hombre.

Anywho, I took pictures like a fiend this weekend and I’m very glad to share them with you here. Thanks to the Mountain Jam and Radio Woodstock teams for the warm hospitality. You always make me feel a part of your families, and I’m grateful to you all. As for the future, well, I’ll see you at Mountain Jam!

P.S.I gave the fellas in Goose their own Substack. Click here for the Goose!

The Mountain Jam stage at Belleayre Mountain Ski Resort in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry

Mountain Jam founder is also Radio Woodstock/WDST/100.1 FM owner Gary Chetkof. Photo by John W. Barry.

Michael Franti performs with his band, Spearhead, at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Saturday, June 21, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Michael Franti performs with his band, Spearhead, at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Saturday, June 21, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry

Michael Franti performs with his band, Spearhead, at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Saturday, June 21, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry

Radio Woodstock Program Director Greg Gattine at Mountain Jam. Photo by John W. Barry.

Trampled by Turtles perform at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Saturday, June 21, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry

Trampled by Turtles perform at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Saturday, June 21, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry

Trampled by Turtles perform at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Saturday, June 21, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry

A member of the band backing Mikaela Davis at Mountain Jam on June 22, 2025. Photo by John W. Barry.

Molly Tuttle performs at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Sunday June 22, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Mikaela Davis performs at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Sunday, June 22, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Al Schnier performs with moe. at at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Saturday, June 21, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Molly Tuttle performs at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Sunday, June 22, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Dogs in a Pile perform at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Sunday, June 22, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Chuck Garvey performs with moe. at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Sunday, June 22, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Dogs in a Pile perform at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Sunday, June 22, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

moe. performs at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Sunday, June 22, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

Rob Derhak performs with moe. at the Mountain Jam music festival, on Sunday, June 22, in Ulster County, NY. Photo by John W. Barry.

The Sam Grisman Project—Sam is center—played Park City Music Hall, in Bridgeport, Conn., on March 9. Photo by John W. Barry.

Musician, band leader, vocalist and bass player Sam Grisman seems to be a very happy guy.

He doesn’t come across to me as an over-the-top happy guy, like someone running around the room telling everyone how happy he is. Sam to me is more of a “Yeah, ain’t life grand? And I’m gonna be even happier than I already am by doing something I love so much that I wanna share it with as many people as I can”-kinda-guy.

That’s the Sam Grisman I crossed paths with recently, on a Daylight Savings Sunday at Park City Music Hall, on an unassuming street in Bridgeport, Conn. Well, we didn’t actually cross paths. He was performing with his band, the Sam Grisman Project, and I was in the audience.

It’s funny how you can form an opinion of someone just by seeing photos of them. Take, for example, the photos I had seen of Sam prior to embarking on a glorious road trip to see the Sam Grisman Project deliver a critically-essential evening of life-affirming live music. The one thing I kept saying to myself, after seeing photo after photo, was, “Wow, this cat seems very genuinely happy, like on a very deep level of happy.”

So as I drove to Bridgeport I kept telling myself that NO ONE can be as happy as Sam Grisman appears to be in these pictures I was seeing. No way, no how.

But I arrived for the gig and as I stood inside one of the most aligned music venues I’ve ever stood in, surrounded by my Deadhead brothers and sisters, I was delighted to gaze upon the stage and see for myself, first-hand, that yeah, Sam Grisman, live and in person, comes across as a really happy dude. And that made me happy. And all I could think of, was, right on and how about a round of applause for us all.

Yes, I was dazzled to be watching Sam, whose father is mandolin virtuoso David Grisman. The elder Grisman played the mandolin solo on the Grateful Dead’s “Friend of the Devil,” on their 1970 album, “American Beauty.” David Grisman has also performed live and recorded with the Grateful Dead’s late lead guitarist and vocalist, Jerry Garcia. I loved how David Grisman drew out a side of Garcia that was completely different from what I saw when he played with the Grateful Dead. Very cool.

Sam Grisman led his band, the Sam Grisman Project, through a compelling and inspiring performance at Park City Music Hall, in Bridgeport, Conn., on March 9. Photo by John W. Barry.

But for all his famous lineage, and how cool is it that Sam Grisman’s father was tight with Jerry, the younger Grisman does his own thing entirely. And he does it with a singular sense of place and identity. The performance I attended in Bridgeport was generous of spirit, communal, visionary and downright entertaining. We all had a lot of fun. And did I mention how happy I was?

The Sam Grisman Project performed cover songs familiar to this crowd with Grateful Dead-leanings, including the Grateful Dead’s “Brown-Eyed Women,” “Birdsong” and “Built to Last;” as well as the Jerry Garcia Band’s “Cats Under the Stars.” I loved it all so much.

But it was the audible that someone in the band surely called when it came to performing Eddie Rabbit’s “Drivin’ My Life Away.” The timing was impeccable. This band read the room with a magnifying glass and somehow turned a sensational night into a sensational night with a left turn into a good old-fashioned throw-down. You just had to be there to hear us all singing these lyrics, which you surely remember:

“Well, the midnight headlight blind you on a rainy night/Steep grade up ahead, slow me down, makin' no time.

“But I gotta keep rollin.’

Those windshield wipers slappin' out a tempo/Keepin' perfect rhythm with the song on the radio-o-o.

“But I gotta keep rollin.'

“Ooh, I'm drivin' my life away/Lookin' for a better way for me.

“Ooh, I'm drivin' my life away/Lookin' for a sunny day.”

I’ve often heard how the biggest personality in a band, or the front man or woman, or the person with the most famous background or lineage, can “surround themselves with great musicians.” I never really liked that phrasing. And the Sam Grisman Project took things in a completely opposite direction. I would say that each member of this ensemble has surrounded themself with the best musicians. The Sam Grisman Project is a group effort. Yeah, Sam is steering the ship, but everyone is there on the bridge with him, hanging out.

The Sam Grisman Project played Park City Music Hall, in Bridgeport, Conn., on March 9. Photo by John W. Barry.

I’d also like to say that Sam’s bass playing really left an impression on me. I’m of the mind that sometimes the best bass players are the ones we don’t hear. The low-end notes they play are processed by our unconscious and generate moments where we feel good, but we don’t know why we feel good. I found that Sam was very selective as to when the audience heard his bass playing, and when we didn’t. This cat-and-mouse-shape-shifting just added depth and dimension to the whole Sam Grisman Project space capsule soaring through the universe.

But at the same time, Sam, who seems to me as regular a guy as they come, despite his travels through outer space, will always, always, always be the happiest guy I know in Bridgeport, Connecticut.

Thanks for sharing your Sunday night with us, Sam. Please come back soon.

God Street Wine. Photo by Patrick Glennon

The State University of New York at New Paltz generated many, many great memories for me.

Attending college there from 1990-93, I like to say, was the greatest decision I ever made in my life, outside of marrying my wife.

My on-campus achievements carry me through each day, in my professional life as a journalist, more than 30 years later. My off-campus exploits, hustles and adventures empower me to be bold and to never take anything too seriously, myself in particular.

Those off-campus exploits include attending many, many shows at Snugs, a hole-in-the-wall bar on lower Main Street. Snugs was awesome. When I think of this establishment, I think of bands raging until 3-4 a.m., many pitchers of beer and sheer triumph consuming the crowded dance floor.

One band that sticks out in my mind, all these years later, is God Street Wine.

In the early 1990s, the jamband scene was on fire, and we were blessed in New Paltz to have our very own group of musicians bringing it all home for us. God Street Wine was always inspiring, always on fire, always there for us and, it always seemed, cheering us on as much as we were cheering them on.

God Street Wine. Photo by Patrick Glennon

I recently took a spin through YouTube to see what the guys have been up to lately and I was pleased to see that they’ve still got it. I was already excited to see them perform at the Bearsville Theater in Woodstock, NY, this coming Saturday, March 15, the Ides of March and the late Phil Lesh’s birthday. And after my viewings on YouTube it’s clear that this five-piece ensemble, that embraces musical abandonment, is still cheering us on—and we will of course be cheering them on.

A major New Paltz shout-out to Aaron Lieberman on vocals and guitar; Lo Faber, vocals and guitar; Dan Pifer, bass and vocals; Jon Bevo on keyboards; and Tom Osander on drums and vocals.

The guys in God Street Wine are always striving, never satisfied, never predictable and always encouraging us to rage in our triumph, inside and outside of the music hall. At the heart of it all is finely crafted music that has a strangely-familiar feel but is authentic and original, inside and out.

“God Street Wine is like this organism to me,” said Lieberman, a Woodstock resident. “It’s so interesting to see where it is now.”

The dynamic between the band members, Lieberman said, is driven by “the unexpected…I’ve always used the word synergistic. The sum of all our parts is larger than any one of us.”

Lieberman is especially excited to play the Bearsville Theater because it is now operated by Peter Shapiro, the musical impresario who ran the old Wetlands Preserve club in Manhattan. God Street Wine is a veteran of performing at the Wetlands, which was a cultural outpost for the jamband scene. Shapiro also owns Brooklyn Bowls in Williamsburg, Nashville, Las Vegas and Philadelphia; as well as Garcia’s at The Capitol Theatre and Garcia’s Chicago.

Adding to the anticipation of the gig is the fact that the God Street Wine Bearsville show will be recorded for a live album at Utopia Studios Bearsville. Utopia sits adjacent to the Bearsville Theater in the Bearsville Center complex; is run by the well-respected Pete Caigan; and is where The Lumineers recorded their recently-released album, “Automatic.” The God Street Wine live album will be released through the Relix Live Vinyl Series.

Lieberman performed at the Bearsville during a Woodstock Day School event, when he was the technology director and early childhood music teacher there. But God Street Wine has never performed at the Woodstock cultural destination.

“It’s always been a dream of mine to play there with my own thing,” he said. “The room is really nice. Pete Shapiro is running it. We’re excited to play that hallowed ground.”

Brian Mitchell, on keyboards, performing at the Tinker Street Tavern in Woodstock, NY. Photo by John W. Barry

Pianist, keyboard, organ, accordion, harmonica player and vocalist Brian Mitchell has generated a lot of solid musical memories for a lot of people.

Anyone who attended Levon Helm’s Midnight Ramble house concerts surely heard Brian lead Levon and the band in the Dr. John song, “Mardi Gras Day.” This tune was raucous and relentless and featured a highlight that brought the house lights up to reveal smiles on everyone, most notably Levon. This highlight was a Mardi Gras parade by the freight train of a horn section that anchored Levon’s band.

At Levon Helm Studios, the horn players would circle the stage and the section of the crowd located nearest the stage, passing right by Brian at one end of the stage and Levon at the other. Levon LOVED the Mardi Gras parade. And when it concluded with the horn section back on their riser, Brian would bellow into his microphone, ‘HOW ‘BOUT THEM HORNS?!” Levon Helm Studios would explode.

Brian was the only member of the Levon Helm Band whose position on stage allowed him to look directly at the former member of The Band during shows. And this underscored the special relationship, personally and professionally, that these two percussion players shared.

Brian Mitchell performing at the Tinker Street Tavern in Woodstock, NY. Photo by John W. Barry

You can get a heaping helping of the special sort of musical energy that only Brian Mitchell can generate when he sets up shop at the Colony Woodstock, in the Town of Woodstock, NY, tonight, Wednesday, Feb. 19. Show time is 7 p.m. He will be joined by Eric Parker on drums; Carlos Valdez on percussion; Ben Zwerin on bass; Kate Skwire on vocals; Scott Healy on keyboards; and Chris Pasin on trumpet.

The Colony, one of Woodstock’s musical institutions, is in downtown Woodstock, at 22 Rock City Road.

This gig is billed as “Brian Mitchell and Friends” and will feature Brian performing songs off of his two upcoming record releases, “Digging The Roots" and "Songs From Big Blue.”

“ ‘Digging The Roots’ is my exploration of the origins of the music that I play now, paying tribute to some of my heroes, such as Dr John, Leon Russell, Allen Toussaint, Billy Preston and Garth Hudson,” Brian wrote on social media. “ ‘Songs From Big Blue’ are songs that I wrote or rewrote while doing “The Roots” record. They reflect the music I have created since living up in Woodstock, setting up Big Blue Studios, and interacting with the community of great artists in the area, such as Larry Campbell, John Sebastian, Cindy Cashdollar, Jim Weider, Amy Helm, Catherine Russell, Steven Bernstein, Peter Apfelbaum, James Maddock, Shawn Pelton and Scottie Shetler. It's in the final stages of mixing so let's call this a record release preview.”

I like to describe Brian’s musicianship in these terms: I guarantee that you will feel better after listening to Brian perform because, with finesse, nuance and determination, he will recalibrate your spiritual and emotional timing belt. Whether you are speaking with Brian during a set break or listening to him perform, you will find him to be real—VERY real.

I’d like to add that I hate the phrase, “Oh, that guy has played with everybody,” because nobody can play with “everybody.”

But in the general sense, there’s no getting around the fact that Brian has, well, played with everybody, including:

• Bruce Springsteen

• Bob Dylan

• Jackson Browne

• Billy Preston

• Dolly Parton

• B.B. King

• Al Green

• Rosanne Cash

If you want a sense of how Brian can get a room hopping, check out this video from the Tinker Street Tavern in Bearsville, a Woodstock hamlet. Brian can really generate a buzz and a scene.

See you there.

The album cover art for “Automatic,” the new album by The Lumineers, which is set for release on Valentine’s Day. (courtesy image)

The Lumineers have once again turned to New York’s Hudson Valley for inspiration.

Wesley Schultz, Jeremiah Fraites and company for the second time enlisted Ulster County NY-based maestros David Baron and Simone Felice as co-producers for their new album, “Automatic,” which is set for release on Valentine’s Day. The Lumineers as a band also received credit for co-producing.

The Lumineers and the region maintain strong bonds.

Baron and Felice co-produced “BRIGHTSIDE,” the 2022 Lumineers release recorded at Baron’s Sun Mountain Studios in Boiceville, not far from Woodstock. And Felice produced “III” and “Cleopatra,” two albums recorded by The Lumineers at The Clubhouse in Rhinebeck, across the Hudson River from Woodstock. “Cleopatra” was released in 2016. “III” came out in 2019.

For the “Automatic” sessions, The Lumineers and their team set up shop at Utopia Studios Bearsville, in Todd Rundgren’s old Utopia Studios building in the Woodstock hamlet of Bearsville. The Utopia Studios Bearsville operation is owned and operated by Pete Caigan, who is highly-respected throughout Hudson Valley and maintains a strong track record of empowering Woodstock’s storied musical legacy.

The Lumineers have in the past rehearsed at the Bearsville Theater, which like Utopia Studios is part of the Bearsville Center complex. That plot of land was originally developed by the late, legendary music impresario Albert Grossman, who managed Bob Dylan.

A major Woodstock link for The Lumineers comes by way of their bass player, Byron Isaacs, who for years performed with Levon Helm of The Band, in the Levon Helm Band. Isaacs contributed a song each to two of Helm’s three Grammy-winning solo albums—“Calvary” on “Dirt Farmer” and “Heaven’s Pearls” on “Electric Dirt.” Isaacs is also a member of the roots collective Ollabelle, which also features Helm’s daughter, Amy; Little Feat drummer Tony Leone; and Bonnie Raitt keyboard player Glenn Patscha.

And in September, Lumineers multi-instrumentalist Stelth Ulvang performed a compelling set of music in Kingston, not far from Woodstock, at The Unicorn Bar.

The Lumineers—Wesley Schultz and Jeremiah Fraites. (Photo by Noah Griffel)

Now playing venues like Wrigley Field in Chicago and Saratoga Performing Arts Center north of Albany, The Lumineers years ago performed at Radio Woodstock’s Mountain Jam festival at Hunter Mountain in Greene County; and the station’s Speed of Sound Festival at what is now called Hudson Valley Regional Airport in Dutchess County.

More recently, Schultz played a benefit concert at The Griffin House in Palenville and sat in with Simone Felice’s old band, The Felice Brothers, at Assembly Kingston on Dec. 30.

From a press release issued on behalf of The Lumineers:

“The two-time Grammy Award-nominated and chart-topping band’s fifth studio album and first new collection in more than three years, ‘Automatic’ is heralded by the exhilarating first single, “Same Old Song,” available everywhere now. True to form, the track, like the rest of the album, was written by co-founders Wesley Schultz and Jeremiah Fraites. Being one of the few top groups who writes all their own material is, says Schultz, ‘a unique badge of honor.’

“‘This album marks 20 years of songwriting between Jeremiah and me,’ says Wesley Schultz. ‘The album explores some of the absurdities of the modern world, like the increasingly blurry line between what’s real and what’s not, and the variety of ways we numb ourselves while trying to combat both boredom and overstimulation.’

“A speedy chronicle of misadventures showcasing The Lumineers’ undeniable flair for a soaring rave-up, ‘Same Old Song’ is joined by an official music video featuring Schultz and Fraites performing in front of a living canvas where scenes play out like VHS home movies, creating a morphing collage of moments that feel both immediate and remote. The projections provide a surreal, mysterious window into the mind and memories of The Lumineers, visually manifesting the song’s emotionally resonant lyrics. The video for ‘Same Old Song’ was directed by Anaïs LaRocca.

“...Inspired by Peter Jackson’s 2021 Beatles documentary ‘Get Back,’ the band, with the help of co-producers David Baron and Simone Felice, set up shop in the expansive tracking room at Woodstock's Utopia Studio. Multiple set-ups—with two sets of drums, three different pianos, and an array of amps, guitars, vocal mics—were laid out, allowing the musicians to pivot and capture as much as possible with minimal delay. The process further freed The Lumineers to perform the songs as a unit, allowing the band to capture the raw, organic presentation of the anthemic new tracks. For the first time on a Lumineers album, the band is credited as co-producers alongside Baron and Felice. Baron engineered and mixed ‘Automatic,’ as he did for the band’s last two albums.”

Click here for information on “Automatic” and upcoming tour dates featuring The Lumineers.

Courtesy of Searchlight Pictures

The new Bob Dylan movie, “A Complete Unknown,” stirred many emotions in me.

But there was one line in the movie from actor Timothée Chalamet, who portrayed Dylan, that summed up the entire film for me.

“People make up their past…They remember what they want. They forget the rest.”

That, my friends, describes “A Complete Unknown” perfectly.

This movie is a figment of Dylan’s imagination, a fabrication, a fraud—just like Dylan himself. According to multiple reports, Dylan read through the script, line-by-line, with director James Mangold. And Jeff Rosen served as a producer on the movie.

According to production notes for “A Complete Unknown,” provided to the media by Searchlight Pictures:

“Jeff Rosen has spent the past 35 years as President of the Bob Dylan Music Company, which coordinates the professional interests of one of the world’s preeminent cultural figures. He has produced feature films and documentaries, most recently Rolling Thunder Revue: A Bob Dylan Story by Martin Scorsese, as well as the acclaimed 18-volume Bob Dylan Bootleg Series on Columbia Records. He has also worked as a consultant in the music and technology worlds. A three-time Grammy award winner, Rosen was named by Hollywood Reporter as one of the top deal makers of 2020 for orchestrating the sale of Bob Dylan’s music publishing catalog to Universal Music Group. “

So Bob and his team had their fingers all over this sweet potato pie. Ya dig? To me, that means that Bob was the engineer of this locomotive, and as with many of his past ventures, could only amuse himself by fucking with us, big time.

I am 210 percent sure that Dylan recognized “A Complete Unknown” for the glaring fraud that it is, and he let it go to market because he thought it would be funny to fuck with us—yet again. (In Bob Dylan voice) “Hey suckers! Go see this movie about me! It’s the real deal!” (evil snicker, also in Bob Dylan’s voice).

Shame on Bob? Shame on us.

During the two-hour-and-20-minute running time of “A Complete Unknown,” the most compelling thing the author of this review saw was the hallway he traversed to get to the cinema men’s room. Trippy, isn’t it?

So, back to Dylan the Fraud. Riddle me this: Who is Bob Dylan?

The kid from Hibbing, Minnesota, with the guitar slung over his shoulder in Greenwich Village?

“A Song and Dance Man?”

The Woodstock, NY, icon, performing with musicians who were much more talented than him, who later formed The Band?

The guy who sings with a velvet voice on “Lay, Lady Lay?”

The born-again Christian?

Mr. Rolling Thunder Revue ,who didn’t have any close friends to be honest with him and tell him that his caked-on white makeup was absurd and he was embarrassing himself?

The zombie-grump from the “We Are the World” recording session?

The outlaw slinging a six-string while commanding the universe and performing with the Grateful Dead?

The musician who finally figures out who he is with the albums, “Infidels” and “Empire Burlesque?”

The wanna-be cowboy with those kooky pants with the white stripes down the side?

Lucky Wilbury?

The guy who stood on the stage at Madison Square Garden on Nov. 19, 2001, two months and change after 9/11, and brought me to tears by opening with, “Wait for the Light to Shine?”

The guy who did the same to me at Saratoga Performing Arts Center in New York, on Sept. 4, 1993, when he performed a solo acoustic version of “Shooting Star?”

Bob Dylan is all of these people, and none of them. He has spent his entire musical career leading us all on a wild goose chase and calling into question his identity and our ability to keep up with him. I have seen Dylan perform many, many, many times. I once stood about 15 feet from him, while he was watching the great Levon Helm perform, also at SPAC. And what I’ve learned is that Bob Dylan LOVES to fuck with us all. I once heard someone say that Dylan achieved so much in such a short span of time that he had nothing left to do, to amuse himself, than to fuck with us.

And this movie is yet another example of that.

And please let me say that I’m dying to know how the producers of “A Complete Unknown” wrangled from Disney a tiny “Death Star” prop to be used as a microphone at the Newport Folk Festival? Was it easier than bulls-eye-ing womp-rats in a T-16 back home on Tatooine? In any event, bravissimo!

Courtesy of Searchlight Pictures

I will say that there were three things I enjoyed about this film:

• Charlie Tahan’s portrayal of the great Al Kooper.

• Will Harrison’s portrayal of the great Bobby Neuwirth.

• The scene in which Bob is recording “Highway 61” and blows that kooky whistle.

But the remaining two-hours and 14-minutes of this disaster of a film? Oy vey, as my Irish-American mother would always say.

How would I describe “A Complete Unknown?”

Tedious.

A two-hour-and-20-minute film that was an hour and 20 minutes too long.

Sappy.

Sloppy.

Soapy.

Tedious.

Way too dramatic.

As far away from real and authentic as cinema can be.

Embarrassing for all who were involved in its production, except for Charlie Tahan and Will Harrison.

Tedious.

One-dimensional.

Fabricated.

Detached from reality.

Tedious.

Shall I continue?

I’d also like to remind Timothée Chalamet, a poser of the first order IMHO! (as the kids say these days! LOL SMH L8R! POSER!), that as far as this non-actor (me) is concerned, actors are supposed to act, as in their facial expressions should change according to the dialogue, the scene, the other characters, the emotions of the story and the circumstances. How an actor can maintain the same facial expression for more than two hours, in a story that spans years, is yet one more example of how bad an actor Chalamet is, what a fraud he is and what a total train wreck “A Complete Unknown” has proven itself to be.

If you’re trying to tell me that Chalamet saw this album cover, and DIDN’T decide he was going to maintain this poker face for the entire film, then let me tell you that I’ve got a bridge to sell you. It starts in Brooklyn, crosses the East River and ends in Manhattan. I’ll give it to you for a fair price. Honest!

Hollywood can keep their Bob Dylan. And Bob Dylan, for that matter, can keep his Bob Dylan. I’ve got my Bob Dylan, from MSG in 2001; SPAC in 1993; and SPAC in 2008. And for my money, my Bob Dylan is the only real one of the bunch.

Or is he?

Larry Campbell and Teresa Williams perform at the Bearsville Theater in Woodstock, NY, on Dec. 7, 2024. Photo by John W. Barry.

The air inside the Bearsville Theater was charged Saturday night.

The floor was moving.

The walls were breathing.

The signs were everywhere.

Moments before show time, it was clear to all in the room that we stood on the cusp of something special, something spectacular, something real, something holy.

The crowd was, well they were your typical Saturday night crowd in Woodstock—demanding, discerning, yearning, craving and ready to consume the entire room whole, in one big bite.

Up on stage were two musicians, a married couple, who seem to fall deeper in love with every passing performance, every gig, every new city, every venue, every new song, album and encore.

He is Larry Campbell, a former member of Bob Dylan’s band who served as multi-instrumentalist, music director and producer for the Levon Helm Band. Larry has also performed with Phil Lesh of the Grateful Dead, Paul Barrere and Fred Tackett of Little Feat, Jackson Browne and Emmylou Harris.

Larry was born and raised in New York City.

Teresa Williams and Brandon Morrison perform at the Bearsville Theater in Woodstock, NY, on Dec. 7, 2024. Photo by John W. Barry.

His wife and musical co-conspirator, Teresa Williams, grew up in Tennessee cotton country, has extensive experience in theater and was also a member of the Levon Helm Band.

Together, they stoke coals, ignite spark plugs, skip stones, paint the town red, feed the fire—and party, always, like it’s 1999.

I’ve seen Larry and Teresa perform many, many, many times—with Levon, as a duet and with their band. They reinvent themselves with every show I see. There’s always something new, something crisp, something that leaves you scratching your chin like that “thinking” emoji.

But on Saturday night at the Bearsville Theater, all bets were off. Larry and Teresa smashed the sound barrier. They generated seismic activity as if they were tectonic plates.

They broke all the rules.

Larry Campbell and Teresa Williams, backed by Brandon Morrison and Lee Falco, perform at the Bearsville Theater in Woodstock, NY, on Dec. 7, 2024. Photo by John W. Barry.

Contributing in major ways to this sonic spectacle at the Bearsville Theater were bass player Brandon Morrison and drummer Lee Falco, who have performed together in numerous ensembles—Donald Fagen & the Nightflyers, The Restless Age, with Kate Pierson of the B-52s, Rachel Yamagata and the hot-doggin, get-down of a band called the New Original Locals, who deliver clever and compelling Honky Tonk with a flair, semi-regularly, on Wednesdays, at VFW Post 1386 in Kingston, NY.

These four musicians generated momentum with each new song, each new note played in those songs and each lyric that was sung. The room rotated, then revolved, each time any one of the four exhaled.

Larry, Teresa, Brandon and Lee charged out of the gate and never looked back. I think it was two, maybe three songs into the show and the song, “Desert Island Dreams,” brought it all home. It was celestial—dare I say, divine? Maybe extra-terrestrial describes it best? All I know is that for this tune, the Bearsville Theater was void of gravity.

Gears were greased. Stars aligned. We all achieved liftoff and it involved Brandon and Lee going at it hard. Their bass and drum duet, with each musician on their own trajectory but never losing sight of the other, never straying, always determined, always precise, thrusting their spirit upward in the midst of a downpour of clarity and purpose.

Brandon was throwing down hard on the bass. Lee, well, Lee Falco was just being Lee Falco, and playing the drums with two arms and two hands but making it sound like he was playing with six arms and eight hands. They were COOKING! And then Larry stepped in and brought it all back home with his pedal to the metal approach to those six-strings on a slab that he channels to conjure the musical gods, who on Saturday night looked down on Bearsville, and were pleased.

Wrapping it all up with a bow and tying up any remaining loose ends was Teresa, as only Teresa can. Teresa sings from the heart, and in the process makes every single person in the venue, any venue, in any town, feel like she’s singing directly to them, and only them.

And here’s the insane part of this whole scenario—these four musicians continued to perform another roughly 90 minutes after this tonal triumph early in the evening. Are you kidding me?

How great were Larry and Teresa and the band at the Bearsville Theater, in Woodstock, NY, on Saturday, Dec. 7? They were great. They were really fucking great.

Visit larryandteresa.com to get the whole lowdown and all the information you will need about their latest album, “All This Time.”

On Dec. 12, 1986, on a cold, dark, nearly-winter weekday afternoon, two of my closest high school pals and I drove from our homes in the New York City suburbs of Rockland County and embarked on one of those high school rock concert adventures right out of central casting.

The occasion was Gregg Allman and Dickey Betts performing—with their own bands, mind you, not the Allman Brothers Band—at the Westbury Music Fair on Long Island. The Westbury Music Fair was totally old school, and we’re talking old school in 1986. It was “in-the-round” as they say, with a circular stage that rotated. Yeah, I know. Epic. Rad. Proper. Dig THAT! And—Bruce Springsteen and The Who played there.

For some reason, we arrived super early, maybe to tailgate in the cold and the dark late afternoon? Anyway, we were the first ones in the parking lot and we’re just kinda walking around and BOOM! We come upon a tour bus. Before any of us fools could say anything, the bus door opens and out walks Gregg Allman.

We’re all like, “Hey Gregg.” And one of my pals says something to the effect of, “Hey Gregg, are you gonna play ‘Revival’ tonight?” His reply? I’m doing my best Gregg Allman here: “We don’t do ‘Ruh-Vie-Vuhl.’” Okay, then. And off he was into the venue, leaving us in the cold and the dark to whoop it up.

The show was epic. And I bring all of this up because singer, songwriter and guitarist Scott Sharrard, an anchor of Gregg Allman & Friends and the Gregg Allman Band, who served as music director, will be ambling into Woodstock, NY, on Thursday this week

Scott Sharrard. Photo by Danny Clinch.

Scott in addition to all his Gregg Allman work—duo shows, Grammy nominations—leads a jamming rock instrumental band—Eldorado Slim—that pays homage to his OTHER endeavor. It’s a band you might have heard of. They’re called LITTLE FEAT! And with Scott on board, Little Feat just garnered a Grammy nomination. Are we detecting a trend here?

And the moment is at hand to mention drummer extraordinaire Tony Leone, who I have seen perform many times, with Levon Helm, the Chris Robinson Brotherhood, Phil Lesh and many others. Tony will be on board Thursday at the Colony Woodstock in Woodstock.

Eldorado Slim is named for a somewhat obscure Little Feat instrumental released in 1973 that is greasy-grindy and coated in oil but has new spark plugs and chrome that shines. I guess you could say the same about Scott, who was Gregg’s trusted confidant and has now re-imagined himself as a musician—while staying the same old enduring, unpredictable, raw and ready Scott Sharrard—with the great Little Feat.

“My two favorite bands of my youth were the Allman Brothers and Little Feat,” he said. “I don’t know why or how the confluence or energy has led me to be pulled back into the music business by my heroes, but it seems to be a continuous theme.”

A new Little Feat album is in the can and details of a 2025 world tour will be announced. But you can scope it all out on Thursday, when Scott and Tony just freaking blow the doors off their hinges and deliver big time. I know it’s gonna happen because I’ve seen these guys deliver the goods over and over and over.

Scott Sharrard. Photo by Danny Clinch.

So, from where does Eldorado Slim, the band, draw its inspiration?

Why, Scott’s high school jazz band, of course. That was the Jazz Lab Combo, the top ensemble at the Milwaukee High School of the Arts. The Jazz Lab Combo’s repertoire included bold choices for aspiring musicians who were also high school students—songs by Wayne Shorter and Miles Davis, among others. The gig was a septet and the Eldorado Slim story began when Scott regaled his high school band mates with a cassette tape of the album, “Alive!” by Grant Green.

Here’s the background on the album known simply as “Grant Green Alive!” from Blue Note Records:

After a prolific five-year run from 1961-1965, when he made more than 20 great hard bop & soul jazz albums for Blue Note, guitarist Grant Green didn’t record again for the label until 1969. By then, Green’s style had moved into funkier territory as was perfectly captured on his first-ever live album “Alive!” which documented a hard-driving set of jazz-funk at the Cliché Lounge in Newark, New Jersey, in 1970. The band is propelled by drummer Idris Muhammad, who keeps a fire burning under Green; saxophonist Claude Bartee, vibraphonist Willie Bivens, organists Ronnie Foster and Neal Creque, and Joseph Armstrong on congas. The closing track “Down Here On The Ground” was famously sampled by A Tribe Called Quest for the track “Vibes and Stuff” on their hip-hop classic “Low End Theory.”

Back in Milwaukee during high school, Scott said, once his fellow student/jazz musicians heard the album, “Everyone grabbed onto it immediately.”

The Jazz Lab Combo began playing three songs off the album at school assemblies.

“And you would see kids who were fans of Grunge and Hip-Hop start dancing and going crazy when we would play this stuff,” Scott said. “It got so deep that a professor ended up making that album a permanent part of the school’s curriculum.

“To this day, when I play with Eldorado Slim, the first song we play is the Kool and the gang song, ‘Let the Music Take Your Mind,’ but we play the Grant Green version, that’s the first song from ‘Grant Green Alive,’the album that altered the teaching curriculum of jazz at the Milwaukee High School of the Arts. That’s the mission statement of Eldorado Slim.”

Eldorado Slim plays at 7 p.m. Thursday, Dec. 12, at the Colony Woodstock, 22 Rock City Road, Woodstock, NY. Doors open at 6 p.m. Show time is 7 p.m. Click here for the Colony Woodstock website. Click here to purchase tickets.

And be sure to check out Scott’s Substack by clicking here.

Phil Lesh expressing great delight at seeing Hunter Mountain covered with Deadheads at the Mountain Jam music festival in New York in 2007. Photo by John W. Barry

When I was working with Levon Helm on the book about his Midnight Rambles, Phil Lesh played more than one of those incredible gatherings.

They were always special.

The first time, joined by Larry Campbell and Teresa Williams, and Justin Guip on drums, the ensemble played “Peggy-O.” Larry and Teresa alternated on the vocals for “The Captain” and “Pretty Peggy-O,” and the song was a vehicle for their two-way discussion about him winning her love.

Oh, to hear Phil’s bass bombs at Levon Helm Studios. They were seismic and traveled right through those wood floors and up my legs to my spine and my heart. I can still feel it today.

Another time, after the Ramble had concluded, I made my way into Levon’s house, that portion of The Barn where he and his wife, Sandy, lived. That was my protocol, as I continued to work on the book. Once the Ramble ended, head into the kitchen for the post-show hang, keep my recorder on and handy, and be my typical “Fly-on-the-Wall” self.

Usually, when I would walk into the house, there would be musicians and guests and who knows who else everywhere? Catherine Keener? Billy Bob Thornton? Whoever was around. It was casual and mind-blowing and life-affirming.

But this one time, I bounded into the house moments after the Ramble ended and it was completely empty, but for Phil, his family, Jackie Greene and Kathy Sunderland, Phil’s late manager, in the living room. It was awkward at first, and I was trying to get the words out to say “It’s OK. I’m supposed to be here.” Then I saw Kathy, who at that point had become a pal. She did grow up in the Town of Poughkeepsie, after all.

And Kathy saved my day and took what could have been an awkward situation and made it, I don’t know what, epic?

Kathy introduced me to Phil, Jill Lesh, Grahame and Brian, his sons, and Jackie, who I already knew, and we had a laugh about being re-introduced.

Then Levon came down from upstairs, and folks started piling in, and I happened to be standing at the door to the Ramble performance space. Phil approached the door so I opened it for him. He turned around to tell someone he was going downstairs to get something to eat. He looked at me, tapped me on the shoulder, and said, “I’ll be right back, John. See you in a few minutes.”

Phil Lesh died today and I have dates and concert venues flashing before my eyes.

Brendan Byrne Arena, Meadowlands Sports Complex. Grateful Dead. 4-7-87. My first show. For us New Yorkers and New Jersey folks, Phil gave us a “What do youse want me to do” variation on his “Box of Rain” lyric.

Capital Center. Landover, Maryland. 3-15-90. Phil’s 50^th birthday. The Ides of March. Spring tour and beautiful weather as I bailed from SUNY New Paltz for a three-night run of shows. I was one of 18,756 Deadheads singing “Happy Birthday” to Phil to open the second set, right before the band slipped into “China Cat”>”Know You Rider.”

That same night, during the first set, Phil thrilled us all with his take on Bob Dylan’s “Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues.” I’ll never forget when, for the line, “My best friend, my drummer, won’t even tell me what it was that I dropped,” he looked directly at drummer Mickey Hart. Mickey looked back with a smile. Brothers. Pure love, the same love we were all feeling at the moment, the same love we felt every time we saw Phil and the Grateful Dead, whether it was one of THOSE magical nights, or one of those less-than magical nights we navigated to get to one of THOSE nights. There was always love inside those arenas and outside in the parking lots, inside those colossal stadiums and those special venues the Grateful Dead once played, Frost Amphitheater, Saratoga Performing Arts Center, Henry J. Kaiser Convention Center, Oxford Plains Speedway in Maine, Berkeley Community Theater for the very first incarnation of Phil Lesh & Friends.

And speaking of Phil Lesh & Friends, how aboutz the Beacon Theatre, the Capitol Theatre in Port Chester, Levon’s, everywhere and anywhere else.

Yeah, I associate Phil and the Grateful Dead with dates and venues.

But they were experiences that are now memories.

I’m glad to say Phil has always lived in my heart, in my brain, in this old bag of bones I carted around as I traveled with my older brother and my dear pal Dennis, to Oxford and Greensboro and East Rutherford, NJ and Uniondale, Long Island and Mountain Jam at Hunter Mountain.

Phil’s spirit is burning in my heart right now. He’s swelling my eyes with tears. He’s sending bolts of electric charges up and down my spine.

I can see Phil with Jerry wielding lightning bolts and laughing their asses off. They stand in mud boots and fleece jackets atop a snowy mountain peak, hitting shooting stars. Jerry hands Phil another lightning bolt and says, “It’s your turn!” Laughter and pandemonium between these two ensue.

My heart hurts. My head hurts. Oh the lessons I’ve learned thanks to Phil and Jerry and Bob and the Grateful Dead.

A flat tire in the dark on the New Jersey Turnpike driving back from the Spectrum in Philly in 1990. Just as my girlfriend at the time and I got the spare on, the second car in our New Paltz posse came flying up the turnpike, hit the brakes and rolled backwards. I asked them to check the lug nuts because my state of mind at the time, was, well, you know.

In an emotional tailspin that previous fall, lost for direction, wandering around the SUNY New Paltz campus, pre-enrollment, with my brother, and stumbling into the Student Union Building and finding a ballroom with the Grateful Dead 1989 summer tour backdrop hanging from the walls. What? Yes, that’s right. The actual backdrop pieces.

I found out that the great Polish artist Jan Sawka lived locally and was being honored that night. A few months later, I was taking my very first journalism course at SUNY New Paltz. My professor was a woman who was a Polish architect-turned journalist. We were being assigned profiles to write and she said her friend in High Falls, nearby, was glad to speak with anyone from the class. He was an artist, also from Poland. His name? Jan Sawka.

“He’s in the phonebook. If you’re interested, you can call him yourself.”

Ummmm. What?

So yeah, I had a very special afternoon with Jan and his wonderful family and am still in touch with his wonderful wife and daughter today. Very special people.

Jan that day showed me a diorama of the stage setup he crafted. He told me how wonderful a guy Jerry was. It was big for this 20-year-old Deadhead.

Well, that’s all I got. I’m off to sob my eyes out and wail like a baby and mourn the loss of a friend, the man who dropped bombs of power and righteousness with his bass guitar. He sang with authenticity. Sometimes it was great, sometimes it was, well. This was the Grateful Dead, after all. And we loved it all. And we always will.

I recall reading in Grateful Dead lyricist Robert Hunter’s book, “Box of Rain,” that the lyrics he wrote for Phil’s song of the same name came as Phil’s father was dying. Phil had some music and asked Hunter for some lyrics. Hunter wrote something to the effect of ,“the lyrics came as fast as the paper would pull the ink from the pen.”

“Just a box of rain, wind and water
Believe it if you need it
If you don't, just pass it on
Sun and shower, wind and rain
In and out the window
Like a moth before a flame

“And it's just a box of rain
I don't know who put it there
Believe it if you need it
Or leave it if you dare

“And it's just a box of rain
Or a ribbon for your hair
Such a long, long time to be gone
And a short time to be there.”

Fare thee well, Phil Lesh. We, and I, remain grateful. Please tell Jerry we miss him.

(sad emoji)

Me, barely keeping it together, during a selfie with U2 drummer Larry Mullen Jr. at the Woodstock Film Festival. Selfie by yours truly.

Being Irish-American has not always been a source of pride for me.

For reasons I won’t go into here (except for those blasted ‘Kiss Me I’m Irish’ buttons and bloated, embarrassing revelry on St. Patrick’s Day), being Irish-American for me, for many years, was a source of shame. A defeated people. A displaced people who typically put the partying before, well, everything of consequence, and so much more in the negative column.

That all changed for me on April 14, 1985, at the Brendan Byrne Arena in New Jersey’s Meadowlands Sports Complex. A good friend handed me a ticket to a band I knew little about—U2, from Ireland. What I did know was that just about everyone at Clarkstown South High School was going to see this band.

That concert. Those songs. Those musicians. That band. My life was changed forever. If you’d ever like to chat with me about U2, block out an entire day, and after the first 3-4 hours of talking, I’ll get to the music.

For THE first time in my life, at age 16, I was proud of being Irish and Irish-American. It took me 16 years to have pride in who I was, to recognize the value of my identity, my sense of self-worth, all of which would later play into having the courage to walk into a job interview and explain that without me on your team, you’re going to fail, fail, fail. I’m the guy for the job. End of story.

39 years later, I’m still not sure what happened that night. What I do know is that it happened while U2 played their song, “Bad.” Most are familiar with “Sunday, Bloody Sunday,” “Pride (In the Name of Love),’ “New Years Day,” most of the songs off “The Joshua Tree” album and “Mysterious Ways.” My compliments to Rolling Stone magazine for placing “Bad” at number five of U2’s 50 greatest songs.

I would have named it number one because my life changed when I heard it that night at the Brendan Byrne.

U2 that night in 1985 told me that I was a rock star, just like them. We were all Irish. And from our perch in East Rutherford, NJ, the Irish—them, me, all of us—we were taking over the world. Lead singer Bono opened the car door and told me to jump in.

“There’s no time to explain,” I imagine him saying. “There’s no time to waste. It’s happening now. We need you.”

Yeah, “The Joshua Tree” tour in 1987 at that very same venue was awesome, as were many U2 shows in the years that followed. But that night in 1985 was a game-changer that had nothing to do with the music, and everything to do with all I had in common with U2, and the power of embracing who I was as an Irish-American, and all the power that comes with that. I think about that night in East Rutherford every freaking morning of my life.

That night also played a very big role in my chosen career path as a journalist. To quote “The Paper,” my favorite newspaper movie—“A clipboard and a confident wave will get you into any building in the world.” Thank you, U2, for the confidence part of that equation.

So all of this brings me to this past Friday night, during the Woodstock Film Festival in New York’s beautiful Hudson Valley, outside the Bearsville Theater. U2 drummer Larry Mullen Jr. made a surprise appearance at the screening of a documentary about dyslexia, “Left Behind.” Larry worked on the music and is a producer of the film and he spoke during the post-screening discussion.

After things wrapped up, he walked out of the theater—alone. I just happened to be leaving too and I gave him plenty of space out of respect. Then it was just me and him in a dark parking lot, heading to our cars.

I had a choice to make—and I made it.

I called out, “Larry.” He turned around. With an outstretched hand I presented him with my book, Levon Helm—Rock, Roll and Ramble, about another famous drummer, Woodstock’s very own Levon Helm. Larry’s face lit up. I told Larry about traveling the country with Levon and recording our conversations for the book.

I also told him about my Irish ancestors, from Cork City,  County Leitrim and County Mayo. I got another wide smile. Inside the book was an inscription with one line written in the Irish language, which will remain in confidence between us two.

I wrapped up our very cordial chat by telling Larry that, “I am a Meadowlands guy.” I told him I hoped that this would not be our last meeting and said goodbye. It was a great fucking few minutes. He was so nice, so interested in Levon, so interested in what I had to say. There we were, two guys whose road leads back to Ireland.

Thanks Larry Mullen Jr. Thanks Woodstock. Thanks Bearsville Theater and thanks Bearsville Center and the Woodstock Film Festival. Once again, U2 gave me a night that is changing my life forever.

As my mother, Dorothy Ann McCarthy Barry, often said about the Barry and McCarthy families—her parents had four children, my aunts and uncle, in Cork, then brought them over on the boat to America, and had her in Washington Heights—“Who’s better than us?”

P.s. I have no photos of the many famous people I have been blessed to meet and interview across nearly 30 years. But on Friday night, I just couldn’t resist. My eternal gratitude to the nicest guy in the world. You should look him up. He plays in an Irish band. They’re from Dublin City, Ireland.

Long May We Run.

Sian Edwards-Beal and U2 drummer Larry Mullen Jr., producers of the documentary, “Left Behind,” discuss the film and dyslexia following an Oct. 18, 2024 screening at the Woodstock Film Festival. Photo by John W. Barry

U2 drummer Larry Mullen Jr. made a surprise appearance Friday evening at the Woodstock Film Festival, in New York’s Hudson Valley, at the world premiere screening of a haunting documentary with an urgent warning about dyslexia.

Mullen is a producer on “Left Behind” and with local Ulster County residents David Baron and Donna Lewis composed music for the film. Mullen and Baron wrote the opening song with Lewis; and the pair wrote the end title song with GAYLE.  Mullen after the screening took part in a Q&A.

“Left Behind” chronicles the efforts of a group of New York City mothers struggling to help their dyslexic children. The courageous mothers get mired in bureaucracy, red tape and stigmas, and are forced to contend with a ghost of a target. As the film documented, New York City had no schools where children with dyslexia could receive the tailored education, attention and compassion they deserved.

Mullen, whose son is dyslexic, watched the screening from the back of the Bearsville Theater, which was the brainchild of the late Albert Grossman, the music impresario and former manager of Bob Dylan and Janis Joplin who lived in Woodstock for years decades ago.

The Bearsville, as it is known among locals, has hosted rehearsals by The Lumineers and Pretenders; and performances by Mike Gordon of Phish; Bob Weir of the Grateful Dead; and Donald Fagen of Steely Dan. Jeff Tweedy of Wilco recently played a three-night run; and former Dylan band member Larry Campbell will take the stage with his wife Teresa Williams, in December.

The Bearsville is operated by modern-day music impresario Peter Shapiro, who also runs The Capitol Theatre in Port Chester, NY; and the Brooklyn Bowls. He operated the now-closed Wetlands Preserve in Manhattan; and staged the 2015 Fare Thee Well concerts, featuring surviving members of the Grateful Dead. Shapiro also, interestingly enough, was a producer on the 2007 film, “U23D” and is credited with inspiring Bono to bring U2 on to open Sphere in Las Vegas.

Yes, friends, things have a crazy way of coming full circle at the Bearsville Theater in Woodstock, NY. I know this first-hand. I’ve been seeing shows there since the late 1990s, is it?

A scene from “Left Behind.” Courtesy photo.

Anywho, “Left Behind” director Anna Toomey crafted a delicate, raw and unapologetic analysis of how dyslexia impacts families and how it can lead to prison for those with dyslexia. Yes, that’s right.

So, what is dyslexia? According to dyslexia.yale.edu:

“Dyslexia is an unexpected difficulty in reading for an individual who has the intelligence to be a much better reader. It is most commonly due to a difficulty in phonological processing (the appreciation of the individual sounds of spoken language), which affects the ability of an individual to speak, read, spell and, often, learn a second language.”

And from the same website:

“Dyslexia affects 20 percent of the population and represents 80–90 percent of all those with learning disabilities. It is the most common of all neuro-cognitive disorders.”

According to a 2019 article in Mother Jones:

“No national studies have been done to show the prevalence of dyslexia among prisoners, but the little research that exists at the state level suggests the rates are quite high: A 2000 study of Texas prisoners found that about half were likely dyslexic, and about two-thirds struggled with reading comprehension. A 2014 study by the Education Department found that about a third of incarcerated people surveyed at 98 prisons struggled to pick out basic information while reading simple texts. Still, most prisons historically haven’t conducted widespread screenings for dyslexia—making it hard for prisoners with the reading disorder to make up lost ground while they’re behind bars.”

The film invoked the defiant spirit of Woodstock—where the 1969 festival was planned, but not held—with this group of moms who would not back down. They tried with one New York Mayor—Bill de Blasio—to get a school opened for their children; and then tried with another New York Mayor—incumbent Eric Adams. And while I won’t spoil the ending, I will say that the intrigue, the drama, the persistence, resilience and type of advocacy that can only come from a mother struggling desperately to save their child made for a captivating, compelling, raw and very real story.

When Mullen got involved with the film, he told the audience, “I showed it to my son and he was—moved. I felt that I needed to do something, just to express his rage at the way that he was treated.”

Mullen continued, “You know, people sing and they express themselves through the voice. It is an odd thing to be able to do with a set of drumsticks and a drum and I felt powerful in that way, in a way I haven’t done before. And I don’t want to overarch it and make it sound so emotional, but it is a big deal when you have a dyslexic child who has fallen through the cracks and, at 29, is still trying to find their way through it. So, the power of the film is that it gives hope that there are answers. If I had known then what I know now, I would have done things differently. Thankfully, my son has a sense of humor about failure and it does feel like failure. But through trough this, there was a sort of a catharsis, with making the music.”

Mullen also gave shout-outs to Baron and Lewis.

Speaking of his work with U2, Mullen said, “I normally sit at the back, and I enjoy that position. But out front, I get to work with great people like David Baron, and Donna.”

During another light moment in the post-screening discussion, Mullen said he’d like to see changes in the education of children with dyslexia implemented worldwide.

In Ireland, he was asked?

“Potentially,” Mullen replied. “I know people.”

Bruce Springsteen leads the E Street Band at the 2024 Sea.Hear.Now Surf, Music and Art Festival, Sept. 15, in Asbury Park, NJ. Courtesy Photo/SeaHearNow/Roger Ho

Three weeks have passed since I stood on the beach in Asbury Park, NJ, with my beautiful wife, my Jersey Girl, by my side; sand between my toes; the ocean pounding on the shore; a blazing moon above; tens of thousands of very happy people surrounding me; and Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band on stage, channeling celestial and nautical spirits with the roar of a barreling freight train and the desperation of a lonely lighthouse fog horn. 

Surely, Poseidon himself, watching over us all from the churning waters of the nearby Atlantic, ratified and validated this shindig and declared all to be in order for the 2024 Sea.Hear.Now Surf, Music and Art Festival, on the sands of Asbury. Without uttering a word, Poseidon, by ushering all of us through the day and night, proclaimed for all to hear that the festival gods had spoken—and they were pleased.  

Bruce opened the show with “Lonesome Day,” and let me tell you for free that all that is good in humanity, in Asbury Park and beyond, took centerstage during that song’s refrain— “It’s Alright/It’s Alright/It’s Alright/YEAH!” Yes, as that song kicked off such an empowering evening and an emboldening, transformational musical experience, everything was, indeed, alright. 

I wish we could all return to Asbury once a week to relive that experience. 

My wife, who grew up near Long Branch and is a Jersey Shore gal through-and-through, called the next song, “Blinded By the Light.” And from there on in, through the rest of that glorious evening, we were all on cruise control, firmly strapped in, with harness and helmet, on the Springsteen Seaside Express Limited Railroad Line. 

I typically head to the Jersey Shore for the spiritual and physical cleansing that salt brings me—salt in the water, salt in the air. I always go home a changed person, for the better. 

On Sept. 15, that salt did its thing as it has for the past 55 years. But man, oh man, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band worked in tandem with mother nature to ensure that night’s saline scrub would last me until next summer. My soul, my spirit, I turned it all over to Bruce, the band and the gods of sea and salt. 

Taking a step back and sorting through the big picture of Sea.Hear. Now, I’d like to express my gratitude to Patti Scialfa. She joined her husband and his band for “Tougher than the Rest” and just took the place over. For that song, that festival belonged to Patti. She drove the train, she steered the ship and the sea rose and fell on her command. 

Bruce Springsteen and Patti Scialfa perform at the 2024 Sea.Hear.Now Surf, Music and Art Festival, Sept. 15, in Asbury Park, NJ. Courtesy photo/SeaHearNow/Ismael Quintanilla III

And my goodness there was some crazy heat going on between husband-and-wife on that-there-stage. The entire Sunday was pure rock ’n roll, and Bruce and the band set that on fire. But Bruce turning the whole operation over to his sweetie for that one song, and Patti lighting the fuse as only she can, that’s what I’ll remember those two musicians for, from here on in. 

I’d also like to express my gratitude to Asbury Park photographer and gallery owner Danny Clinch, who along with his Sea.Hear.Now team delivered an event that was pure gold on so many levels—logistically, mechanically, spiritually, culinarily and sonically. Danny and the team reminded us all how the arts drive the economy, and he does that year-round at his Transparent Clinch Gallery, just a block from the beach in Asbury, not far from where he grew up, in Toms River. 

Back at the festival, my wife and I did a bit of roaming on the beach during the show and I’ll never forget looking at everyone, as they watched Bruce perform. Everyone was so—content. They were vibing out heavy waves of peace and delight and satisfaction and strength. With the moon and the surf and the sand between my toes and my favorite gal by my side, I felt like I had stumbled into a movie. Not onto a movie set, mind you, but an actual movie. We had crossed over into an alternative reality. 

Sure, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band were the headliners. But we, us, the crowd, all of us who had schlepped to the beach, we were the stars of that movie. 

The crowd on the beach in Asbury Park, NJ, for the 2024 Sea.Hear.Now Surf, Music and Art Festival. Courtesy photo/SeaHearNow/Ismael Quintanilla

I was reminded at that moment of a recorded interview that was shown as part of U2’s induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2005. You’ll remember that Bruce inducted the lads from Dublin, live and in person. But they also showed this video interview with U2 Guitarist The Edge. And the line that I have carried from that brief interview is one of the greatest things ever said about rock music. 

When fans during a U2 show are screaming and cheering and hooting and hollering, Edge said, something to the effect of, “They’re not cheering for us. They’re cheering for themselves.” Right on, Edge. 

In some respects, Bruce at Sea.Hear.Now was just another guy from New Jersey, reflecting on times gone past in his old neighborhood.

I’m getting chills right now recalling how Bruce started the show by saying, “Greetings, Asbury Park.” 

After opening with “Lonesome Day,” he introduced the next tune by saying, “I wrote this song about 500 yards north, on Loch Arbour Beach.” He then launched into “Blinded by the Light.”

Two songs later, during “Growing Up,” Roy Bittan’s boardwalk-carnival-carousel-musical-jewelry box piano playing took centerstage as Bruce took us deeper down memory lane, or, actually, on a street-by-street audio tour of Asbury. Just like his Asbury Park brothers and sisters standing on the beach, that guy and that band did not lose sight of the fact, as Sea.Hear.Now raged, that Asbury has come many moons from its twisted days of decrepit buildings, abandoned boardwalk and compass gone haywire.

“There I was,” he said as Roy played, “driving down Kingsley. The streets were empty. Buildings all shut down. Nobody on Cookman Avenue. Nobody on Main Street. Nobody on Ocean Avenue. Nobody anywhere. And then, I feel into a drrrrrrrreamy sleep, and when I woke up, I said, “Where did all these fucking people come from?’ I can tell ya one thing—it’s good to see ya here. Let’s hear three cheers for Asbury Park making its way back.”

And then Bruce evoked Santa Claus with a hearty, merry and robust laugh.

Photo by John W. Barry

As someone who—no disrespect, Bruce—heard enough of the “Born in the U.S.A.” album in the 1980s to last me this and my next lifetimes, I wasn’t crushed that The Boss only played two songs from that blockbuster release—”Bobby Jean” and “Dancing in the Dark.” He certainly didn’t overlook anything by leaving “My Hometown” off the set list. At Sea.Hear.Now, Asbury was his hometown, my hometown and, if you were there, your hometown. Through Bruce’s generous spirit, his hometown became our hometown. It was a feeling and an experience and a concept that transcended words and music and even The Boss himself.

So let’s hear three cheers for Bruce Springsteen, the guy who grew up in Freehold, in the parish of St. Rose of Lima Roman Catholic Church, and conquered the world, but always landed right back where he began.

Yeah, Bruce was a rock star up on that Sea.Hear.Now stage. But in front of all those thousands he was also just a regular guy; one of us; someone who like his fans rides his own waves, the ups and downs of life; the good days and the bad days, praying it’s all steady as she goes.

And just like me, Bruce enjoys the smell, but not the taste of coffee. And just like me, he finds salvation on the beach in Asbury Park, where the surf, the sand, the salt, the sea and the air deliver, with each crash of a wave, a promise that, life’s ups and downs be damned, “It’s Alright/It’s Alright/It’s Alright/YEAH!” 

Visit seahearnowfestival.com and transparentclinchgallery.com to have your minds blown.

Lost Leaders is Byron Isaacs, left, and Peter Cole.

The band Lost Leaders is as much about color, context and texture as it as about melody, rhythm and the plain, simple, glorious act of generating sound.

When I think of the many times I’ve seen Lost Leaders perform—Garcia’s at The Capitol Theatre in Westchester County, NY, Daryl’s House in Pawling, NY, and lots of other places—I can’t help but envision one of those classic old cars that Neil Young keeps in his garage, the ones from decades ago that look like they rolled off the assembly line yesterday because of the chrome that glistens.

These vehicles have an old spirit but sacrifice nothing when it comes to power and acceleration and a glistening paint job, fine leather seats and yeah, all that freaking chrome that sparkles in the sun.

“With your chrome heart shining/In the sun/Long May You Run,” Neil encourages us all in the song, “Long May You Run.”

You want to experience the shine of a chrome heart? The warmth? The alluring sparkle? The mystery? The magic? Then check out Lost Leaders. They are unpredictable. They are raw. They come at you from the inside out. They are seismic and hot to the touch. They take no prisoners.

And they have a new record out, called “Hungry Ghosts.”

Lost Leaders is Byron Isaacs on bass and vocals and Peter Cole on guitar and vocals, and they will be showcasing their new songs from “Hungry Ghosts” with multiple upcoming gigs. Lost Leaders are set to consume performance halls whole, and the audiences that fill them, when they roll into The Falcon in Marlboro, NY, on Friday, Sept. 20; The Pines in Mt. Tremper, NY, not far from Woodstock, on Saturday, Sept. 21; Fete Lounge in Providence, Rhode Island, Sept. 24; Spotlight at the Paramount, in Huntington on Long Island, Sept. 26; Heaven Can Wait in New York City on Oct. 1; and Concerts in the Studio in Freehold, NJ—where Bruce Springsteen grew up—on Oct. 26.

Peter and Byron will be joined by Will Bryant on keyboards and Randy Schrager on drums at The Falcon. The show at The Pines will be a trio with Schrager.

“Hungry Ghosts” was recorded at The Building Recording Studio in Marlboro, not far from The Falcon. Lee Falco, who often plays drums in Lost Leaders but is currently on tour with Amos Lee, owns both establishments and has, with his late father, curated an artistic landscape in Marlboro that provides a strong sense of place and reinforces what we already know, but don’t always place front and center—the arts drive the economy.

Both Byron and Peter illustrate all of this with music that treads narrow, mountaintop paths, steep escarpments, wide open fields, busy city boulevards, bustling crowds and quiet Catskill Mountain getaways.

When I attend a Lost Leaders performance,  I envision both Byron and Peter opening the door to a space capsule, making sure I’m strapped in and assuring me that they’ll greet me upon landing before closing the hatch and seeing me off. They leave it up to me to navigate the interstellar musical journey that follows.

In the coming weeks, the soundtrack to my space adventures will be songs off “Hungry Ghosts”—authentic, original tunes that have been time-stamped with the past, present and future, have their chrome-heart-a-glistening and remain anchored, elusive, all-consuming and all-evolving, driven by the generous spirit of two musicians, two creators, two people with plenty of gravity to share, who want nothing more than to recalibrate your timing belt with their music.

“Gone So Fast” is probably my favorite song on “Hungry Ghosts.” It makes me feel as if I’m sitting in the open bow of a speedboat on a choppy lake, rising and falling with the uncertain crests and the troughs as I marvel at the world around me, sea spray coating my face while inspiration burns in my heart.

Lost Leaders at The Building Recording Studio in Marlboro, where they recorded their latest album, “Hungry Ghosts.”

And speaking of maritime adventures, Lost Leaders offer “The Undertow.”

“Watch the moon swim away/Full tsunami from a tiny wave/Pebble that you never throw/Could move oceans.”

Byron, you should know, is the bass player for The Lumineers and tours the world with them, playing stadiums and arenas. He also played bass for the Levon Helm Band.

He and Peter connected years ago when Peter’s jazz trio, which played Monday night gigs in Manhattan, needed a bass player and Byron was recommended by the drummer. Peter and Byron not long after teamed up to create their own music, and the early stages of that partnership set the stage for Lost Leaders.

“Byron has a really interesting sense of harmonic motion,” Peter said. “I don’t mean harmonic rhythm; I don’t mean time. I mean the quality of the chord changes that he comes up with and the relationships of those chords to each other—he’s the only writer I’ve ever come across who has that distinctive mark, and a tremendous ear for harmony. I have the most fun working on songs he wrote.”

Peter, Byron said, has a gift for melody and hooks.

“Pete knows when a hook hits,” he said. “He doesn’t always just have your standard pop kind of sensibility with the hooks. They are very unusual turns of melody that are just instantly hook-ey. He just has a gift for it. He’s also a very special, singular guitar player with a whole concept and approach, not just as a rhythm player and riff-meister, but also as soloist. A real voice.”

Peter and Byron, in the recording studio and live on stage, blow everything up, then put it back together again, song after song. And then it’s lather, rinse, repeat.

As for the new record, Lost Leaders on Facebook explained things like this:

“Hungry Ghosts is a Buddhist concept about people searching to fill the void,” these musicians wrote on Facebook. “This album captures Lost Leaders in all of our moods: pointedly snarky, whimsical and outlandish, reflective and confessional.

“It starts very worldly, getting caught up in the surge, moves to psychedelia, then the journey ends with getting yourself back home. In the end things are alright.

“It’s almost like the first half is The Iliad—and the second half is The Odyssey.”

Visit lostleaders.net to learn more.

Karina Rykman/Photo by BrantleyGutierrez

Ask me what I find compelling about a Picasso painting and I’ll probably say—”I don’t know.” 

And, you see, that’s exactly what I find compelling about Picasso—I don’t know why his flair leaves me all jazzed. It just does. Picasso takes me far beyond words. Viewing a Picasso is about feeling, and hair standing up on the back of my neck and my great-googly-moogly eyeballs following along as lines and colors and shades of colors and lights and darks come together in triumph. 

I can say all the same things about Karina Rykman and the music she makes. 

What do I enjoy about Karina’s passion for creativity and nuanced self-expression? I don’t know exactly. I can’t pin it down and encapsulate in words what it is that I find so compelling about this New York City native’s ability to indulge us all in bass lines and rhythm and melody and sharps and flats and technicolors that align with our beating hearts. Just like with Picasso, it’s all about feeling with Karina.

Yeah—Karina’s bass lines. 

They’re always there for us, leading us by the hand and the head and the heart into stratospheres, galaxies, orbits and, finally, of course, a glorious splashdown. 

Bass lines for me have always played a hide-and-seek kinda game. Sometimes the best bass lines cannot be heard by the human ear, but rather are felt on some subconscious level that triggers adrenaline and endorphins and happy feet. Karina knows what this is all about. 

And then there are the finger paints, the glitter, the confetti canyons and the lawn sprinklers; and the launch pads, the spark plugs, the liftoff, floating in a space capsule and fiery re-entry. These are Karina’s sights and sounds and seismic-ness that can, please forgive me for saying this, turn your frown upside down!

Karina Rykman/ Photo by BrantleyGutierrez

THIS is what Karina Rykman’s musicianship means to me. And you can find it all on “Joyride,” the debut album from the woman who grew up on New York City’s Upper West Side, graduated from New York University with a degree she constructed in Invention and Distribution in Contemporary Music and holds down the low end in Marco Benevento’s band.

Joy, Karina said, “is emblematic of everything I want to radiate. It’s a real thing.” 

You can also do a belly flop in the deep end, submerging yourself in all things Karina Rykman, on Saturday, Sept. 14, when she plays the Bearsville Theater in Woodstock, NY. Karina will be leading her trio, which features Adam November on guitar, loopers and effects; and Chris Corsico on drums.

Both “Joyride” and Karina’s gig at the Bearsville Theater—now under the stewardship of Wetlands, Brooklyn Bowl, Fare Thee Well and Capitol Theatre music impresario Peter Shapiro—showcase her ability to turn musical phrases into musical poetry. 

And I gotta think that Picasso’s Ghost is paying close attention to Karina’s creativity, wondering all the while how someone with a bass guitar can push the envelope just as he did with a paintbrush. Surely, Karina’s music makes Picasso’s Ghost stop for a second and do a sonic double-take. I can see him now, rubbing his chin like that little yellow emoji, his eyebrows crinkled, his spirit liberated, his hopes running high. 

Yes, Picasso’s Ghost, you can surely learn plenty about the world around you from listening to Karina Rykman’s “Joyride.” Unburden yourself now. 

Particularly fulfilling for me—I WAS born in the Bronx, mind you—is the inspiration that Karina draws from her hometown New York City. I feel the same about my native land, from the sidewalks and the skyscrapers to the characters and the crispiness. 

New York City, Karina said, “Is literally all I know. It’s the only place I’m functional. New York City is everything to me. I can’t imagine being anywhere else. New York is—this is who we are, we’re all out here together and we’re all scrambling to make it work.”  

And Karina on Saturday night will once again be celebrating her long friendship with Shapiro. Did you know that she was an intern at his Relix magazine as a teenager.

“I’ve known him for a million years and he really is as magical as they come,” she said. “He really is that guy. He’s a magical person. His visions are so enormous. The sky’s the limit. He has this eagle eye where he can make things happen. He’s just a delight. You have to ice your wrist after he high-fives you for an evening.” 

“Joyride” marks yet another chapter for Karina. She has played high-profile television gigs that include “America’s Got Talent” and backing up pop star Julia Michaels on “TODAY.” Karina has played the Bonnaroo, Peach and Sweetwater 420 music festivals. And among her recent appearances sitting in with the 8G Band on NBC’s “Late Night with Seth Meyers” was a down-right authentic and hilarious interaction with Tracy Morgan, of “Saturday Night Live” and “30 Rock” fame. 

Karina Rykman/ Photo by BrantleyGutierrez

Karina wrote and recorded “Joyride” with her childhood friend, producer Gabe Monro. The album features Trey Anastasio from Phish as co-producer; and the guitarist is featured on five of the album’s nine tunes.

Karina and Trey’s collaboration followed a nutso crossing-of-paths at 2021’s Peach Music Festival in Scranton, PA. Anastasio expressed an unwavering commitment to Karina’s debut album that manifested in her use of Phish’s Vermont recording studio, The Barn, as well as the suggestion to work with renowned mixer Bryce Goggin of Pavement, Swans and Ramones fame.

In a press release, Karina explained it all. 

“Trey and I hadn’t seen each other since pre-pandemic,” Rykman said. “But at this music festival, he ran up to me and referred to each of my singles by name. I had no idea he knew what I was up to, musically speaking. I went to middle school with his daughters, and we’ve been ‘family friends’ for a long time, but it wasn’t until that moment in July 2021 that he really became a musical peer. The amount of selflessness and care he has shown in his mentorship toward me is awe-inspiring. I could never thank him enough for all he’s given me.”