A letter from the president
hether the autumn weather is warm and rainy or cold and windy, what better way to deal with it than to relax inside with a good book, some blues music playing in the background and your favorite refreshing drink.
One book I read several years ago comes to mind: Texas Flood: The Inside Story of Stevie Ray Vaughan, one of the greatest blues guitar players of all time. Following Stevie from birth through his untimely death, this biography by Alan Paul and Andy Aledort is an excellent read.
Another one is Delta Blues: The Life and Times of the Mississippi Masters Who Revolutionized American Music, by Ted Giola. This is a deep search into the history of the blues that came out of the Mississippi Delta, from Muddy Waters to B.B. King.
Moving north, there is also Chicago Blues: The City and the Music, by Mike Rowe, a review of such legends as Howlin’ Wolf, Jimmy Reed, Little Walter and Otis Rush, among many others.
There are many more books available to help you bone up on the history of the blues and how the genre became the basis for all American music that followed. If you have an interest in learning more about this art form, I highly recommend you pick up a copy of any of these books and sit back, cool off and enjoy. All printed versions are available through your favorite online book source or your local bookstore. If you would rather read in digital format, most of these books are available in that form too.
And while I’m on the topic of media, you can tune in to a variety of radio sources for your blues music fix. Anybody who is anybody knows about Good Time Charlie’s radio show
every Sunday. You can catch Charlie on WQSU 88.9 from noon until 2:00 pm and again on WCXR 103.7 and WZXR 99.3 from 8:00 until 10:00 pm. Charlie was one of the Billtown Blues Association’s founding members back in 1990 and is also the recipient the Blues Foundation 2007 Keeping the Blues Alive award for his years of service as a Blues DJ in the Susquehanna Valley. And if you subscribe to Sirius-XM, there is also B.B. King’s Bluesville or channel 75, a 24-hour service of blues music.
And of course, for you digital aficionados, there are many online streaming sources available. Check out Southern Soul Network Radio, 61 Blues, Blues Music Fan and Blues Club, to name but a few.
Coming up on October 17th is the event the Billtown Blues Association is sponsoring featuring Skyler Saufley. Check out ticket information at billtownblues.org.
That’s about all I have to babble about until the next issue. Until then, go out on a limb and do your part to listen to, read about and appreciate blues music.
David B Strickler
WE ARE
BBA MISSION STATEMENT:
The mission of the Billtown Blues Association is to perpetuate and preserve blues music as a valued indigenous American art form; to assume a community leadership role in promoting the arts; to produce quality and inspiring live music events; to offer educational opportunities targeting the history of blues and the artistic impact of blues music world-wide; and to encourage and support area musicians with a devoted interest in American Roots Music.
NEWSLETTER STATEMENT:
The Billtown Blue Notes is a quarterly newsletter written by the Billtown Blues Newsletter Committee and published in cooperation with the Sun-Gazette. It is a labor of love written by our member volunteers.
The opinions of our writers do not necessarily reflect the views of the BBA or the Sun-Gazette.
CONTACT INFORMATION:
For more information or to become a member go to: billtownblues.org
Follow us on Facebook and instagram
Newsletter Committee: Liflandetal@comcast.net
Sally Lifland Butterfield, newsletter chair
OBy BONNIE TALLMAN
n June 25, 2024, Skyler Saufley and his great band drove from Alabama to Pennsylvania as Bob Margolin’s support band. This was viewed as a win-win-win situation.
Bob had been instrumental in paving a path to recognition for Skyler, and Skyler was emerging as a highly respected young blues talent. BBA attendees were to witness a very special show. Then the weather got in the way. Due to the impromptu jam which included Skyler and his rhythm section, the response to Skyler’s portion of that set was abundant with praise. Fast forward to 2025: how and when can we bring him back? That will happen on Friday night, October 17th, at the SideBar in Williamsport.
Skyler aptly qualifies for the cliché “a young
body with an old soul.” This quote from Creative Loafing says it best: “Most youngsters bitten by the blues bug gravitate toward a more electrified style of blues rock, epitomized by screaming guitars and roof-rattling volume.
But Saufley looks to an earlier era in the genre—one dominated by the raucous jump blues of T-Bone Walker, Pee Wee Crayton, Goree Carter, and others.”
The fact that Skyler’s influences stem from the early masters of the genre is not to say his shows are not filled with high-energy and charismatic displays of his music and personality. His shows are just plain fun and memorable. As The Local, based in Columbus, Georgia, says: “After watching Skyler take command of the room with a well-polished performance, I felt as if all of us present were thinking the same thing: He’s a star.”
When still in his 20s, Skyler was inducted into the Alabama Blues Hall of Fame. Saufley and his band, the 99th Degree, are actively touring nonstop nationally and internationally. Skyler was selected to participate in the Memphis-based International Blues Challenge, generating his first notice by industry personnel, who latched on with interest coast to coast.
In Shannon Marie Tovey’s extensive interview for Arts Atlanta, she dove into Skyler’s early years that set him on his path. He first heard Elvis when he was 12 and was drawn to Scotty Moore’s guitar playing, thinking “this sounds like fun!” He did not know at the time that Elvis was taught by and heavily influenced by the blues. Soon after, Skyler found Muddy Waters and was hooked: “This is
AN INTERVIEW WITH Skyler Saufley
BT: What was the first song you studied [delved into seriously] as you were learning the blues after first discovering Elvis and then Muddy Waters?
SS: I can’t remember a specific tune, but I do remember playing along with whatever blues records I could get my hands on—religiously. Jimmy Reed, Muddy Waters, Freddie King, Elmore James ... too many to list in one place. I do remember that Scotty Moore’s guitar solo on “Heartbreak Hotel” was the first lick I ever learned how to play. A friend of mine had a guitar and had figured it out—I begged him to teach it to me. It was the only thing he knew how to play, but to me, it was everything!
BT: Tell me about your band mates that will be coming with you to Williamsport. Names? Instrumentation? Any history?
SS: I’ll be bringing my usual guys—Josh Minucci on upright bass and Pete Maier on drums. We’ll also have Steve Kirsty on tenor sax.
I met Josh a few years ago when we did a run of shows with Mark Hummel. We both knew after that first rehearsal that we needed to keep playing together. I’ve been
playing on and off with Pete for a few years too. He’s the best—so much fun to be around, on and off stage. We all share the same love and respect for the music, so it just works. Having a good sense of humor helps too!
Steve is great too. I met him a few years back playing with Derek Mattison at the Saint Georges Country Store. He was on upright bass for those gigs—great player! I didn’t find out until later that he’s just as good a sax player as he is a bassist. A few months ago, I asked him about doing this show and he said, “Oh yeah! You need a bass player? I’m in!” I laughed and said, “No, we’ve got Josh on bass—I want you on tenor!”
He lit up after that.
BT: I see a lot of reference to your band name as “99 Degree”? Is that still the case and if so, explain the name.
SS: No, I’ve just been traveling under my own name. It’s easier that way. I never
(See An Interview, Page 4)
what I want to do!” His parents were not at all hip to this idea, so he saved up and bought his first guitar from Toys“R”Us.
As Skyler began developing his own style, he knew he wanted to stay close to the true meaning of the early blues. He wanted the essence of the feeling and purpose to be evident, not lost in too many notes or high volume. He wanted to remain authentic in his style and delivery. When covering another artist’s music, he has said, “I always try to keep it respectful. I’ll change it to fit my style, but I always picture the guy that recorded the song or wrote it — if they were listening to me tonight playing the song, would they think that was cool, or would they think I ruined their song?”
As a performer, he doesn’t fake it … he can’t. As he has said, “You can tell when somebody’s up there and they’re just loving it. It’s just what they do, and they’re having a ball.” That was the kind of performer he vowed to be.
Skyler Saufley and his band are set to perform on Friday night, October 17th, at the SideBar, 345 Market Street, Williamsport. Showtime is 7 p.m. Doors open at 6:30 p.m. Tickets are now on sale through our online service, Event Brite, https:// skylersaufley.eventbrite.com. Walk-up sales are available at the Community Arts Center in Williamsport during business hours and by appointment in Lewisburg by calling Teri MacBride at 570-309-7953.
AN INTERVIEW WITH Skyler Saufley
(From Page 3)
really liked the name anyway.
BT: You seem to be an honest “less is more, economy style” player, which I am always drawn to…. Is that by design—do you have to work at “pruning,” or is it natural for you?
SS: I’m hard-headed, and I like what I like. I don’t play to fit in, and I don’t play for notoriety or anything like that—otherwise, I wouldn’t be playing this kind of music. I play what I love, and if the audience enjoys it too, then that’s great. I don’t want to be remembered as the guy who could play a hundred notes a second. I want people to have a good time and leave the show feeling something.
BT: Anything you wish to share about the storm and your experience at the Billtown Blues Festival?
SS: What a day! I was nervous we weren’t going to get to play. I’m glad everyone pulled
So ... what happened?
By BONNIE TALLMAN
The simple answer as to what happened to the Billtown Blues Festival is “it was time.” The horrific storm during peak hours in 2024 was the catalyst that forced us to face reality after 35 years of presenting a blues festival in Central Pennsylvania.
First, about the storm. Bob Margolin arrived early. He had been a fan of the Billtown Blues Festival and the work of the BBA for years. Bob and his band were the only act over the 35-year run who did not get to perform their set. It was 2008 and a storm was brewing nearby. Bob was the last act on the bill. For equipment safety reasons the sound company made the call to stop the show, which we were contractually required to honor. When Bob arrived in 2024, the first thing he asked (jokingly) was “Will I get to the stage this time?” He was joking because at the time he asked it was a beautiful sunny day. I sat down with him, and we pulled up our respective weather maps and shared a “thumbs-up” hug. Only a few hours later, when the Carolyn Wonderband band was about halfway through their set, the storm started coming in strong and fast. At this point we stopped the show and began employing our emergency plan: finding shelter for children, the elderly, those who were physically compromised and the artists who were on site. The stage crew frantically started to cover and protect the thousands of dollars of rented audio and lighting gear as the rain was blowing in sideways across the stage.
together to make it happen. I think the highlight of the whole festival for me was playing Muddy Waters’s “Clouds in My Heart” with Bob Margolin and Jason Ricci. When Bob got to the line “The lightning was flashing …,” this huge bolt of lightning shot across the sky—we all looked up in awe. Definitely a once-in-a-lifetime moment. And remember that guy who went fifteen feet into the air? Or the couple who sat through it all in their folding chairs?
BT: Anything newsworthy? Special gigs coming up? Recordings?
SS: I’m hoping to have our first album finished before these shows. It’s been a work in progress, but we want to get it just right. I’ll also be heading back to Europe for the month of November, which I’m really looking forward to. I love playing overseas, and I hope I can keep doing more of that.
BT: Thanks for everything, Skyler. Really looking forward to seeing you again.
running to their cars and RVs, chose to run toward the stage to help get our attendees to safety. Andy Novick from New Hampshire, our onsite EMT, was immediately on the scene helping to get people protected. The sound engineer from GP Audio, Nick, never mentioned stopping the event, but rather became part of our team, with the mindset “how can we pull this back together?”
I was struck by the actions of staff members and volunteers who, instead of
Once the storm passed, I noticed a total stranger sweeping the water off the
stage. Blues fans are the BEST!
As soon as the storm started to show signs of passing and we began assessing the damage to the stage and the condition of the equipment, Bob Margolin surfaced once again. He pulled me aside and said, “I see that little extended part of the stage has carpeting. How about we put a couple monitors and mics out there and get the show going?” And so it was. Soon the musicians—who had traveled so far and were anxious to play but figured they would not— started putting plans together for an “all star jam.” Skyler Saufley and his rhythm section, Jason Ricci, Kaitlyn Dibble, guests Gabe Stillman and Jossian Lily and Bob Margolin delivered a memorable post-storm impromptu performance. As that small stage was getting prepared by the sound crew, Bob and Jason Ricci walked to the area of the (soon to be totally collapsed) large tent and started singing and playing to the attendees scattered about. As the “jam” commenced and people began filling in close to the stage, a call came in from Meghan Parnell, lead singer for Bywater Call, confirming directions to the venue. Holy Moly—a 7-piece band expecting to perform is just a few miles away, totally unaware of what just happened due to the isolated nature of this storm! Once again, the
sound company, along with stage manager Kevin Mix, Adam Westover, Scott Miller and FOH engineer Tim Breon, got the main stage in order, and Bywater Call gave a spectacular festival-closing set, ending right on time.
As for future Billtown Blues Festivals, we no longer have enough dedicated staff able to attend our planning meetings and production effort to prepare for a high-quality event. Our festival goal has been to properly serve all of the performing musicians so that they can deliver their best and make sure that each attendee is pleased to have
PHOTOS PROVIDED
Kevin Mix and Melissa Fischer, at right, served as the festival’s stage manager and merchandise volunteer for many years. Below, an audience enjoys the Billtown Blues Festival at the Lycoming County Fairgrounds.
purchased a ticket to the event. The BBA is an all-volunteer organization; therefore, we are at the mercy of involved members who believe in our purpose and are willing to honor our mission. Those people are hard to find. But we have been lucky. We have a small group of devoted volunteers who attend every meeting and are the glue holding us together, guided by President Dave Strickler, Vice President Bernie Strosser, Secretary Kendall Palmatier, Treasurer Charlie Lockard, board member Susan Braster and super-volunteer Carol Coffelt.
It is appropriate to say “thanks” to some of our past dedicated and responsible volunteers, many of whom were with us 20 or more years. They include Bill Van Campen, Cathy Calvert, Tom and Lori Butler, Bill Wilson, and Pete Davenport. Also in this group is the late Susan Bacchieri, whose incredible photography captured the essence of all of the festivals until her passing in 2009.
Of special note are Kevin Mix, who has been
(See So..., Page 7)
By BOB MARGOLIN
he more blues-driven musicians commandeered the instruments at the jam and played some old favorite songs together, mostly Robert Johnson’s. This sounds like a common scene at open-mic jams at blues clubs, where more experienced blues players sometimes conspire to sit in together. It happened at about 7 a.m., the morning after The Band’s Last Waltz concert on Thanksgiving, 1976. The Band had hired the entire Miyako Hotel in San Francisco to accommodate their guests. The banquet room, which had been used for rehearsal before the show, was now the party room, and musicians had been jamming in random combinations since after the concert, many hours before. But unlike at your local blues jam, every blues player that morning was a rock star. Except me. I was there with Muddy Waters, who was invited to perform two songs at The Last Waltz. Muddy had recorded his Grammy-winning Woodstock Album the year before with Levon Helm and Garth Hudson from The Band, but The Band itself was an unknown quantity to him. He brought Pinetop Perkins and me from his own band to accompany him along with The Band and Paul Butterfield on harp, so that he would have something familiar to play with. Muddy also felt I was good at explaining what he wanted onstage to musicians he hadn’t worked with, though 25 years later, I still find myself wishing I knew more about what Muddy wanted.
Muddy, Pinetop, and I checked into the hotel the day before the show and went to the restaurant. I saw a few familiar faces from the Rock World, and some came over to say hello and pay respects to
Muddy. I remember this surreal encounter:
Kinky Friedman approached our table. I knew that he was a Texas Jewboy (his band’s name) musical comedian. The Kinkster sported Texas attire complemented by a white satin smoking jacket accented with blue Jewish stars, an Israeli flag motif. Embroidered along the hem were scenes of the crucifixion. Mr. Friedman exercises his ethnicity in provocative ways, in fashion, in his music, and in his recent mystery novels (recommended!). He was a Kosher cowboy mensch as he introduced himself to Muddy, assuring him that “people of the Jewish persuasion appreciate the blues too.” Muddy, used to folks stranger than Kinky saying weird stuff to him, just smiled and thanked him. Didn’t bat an eye.
That night, Pinetop, Muddy, and I were scheduled to rehearse our songs for the show. I didn’t realize that some of those blues-oriented rock stars must have been in the room to watch Muddy.
The next night, at the concert, Muddy, Pinetop, and I waited backstage to perform. Pinetop told me he heard one of The Beatles was there, not realizing that Ringo was sitting right next to him. Born in 1913, Pinetop knew as much about The Beatles as I know about The Backstreet Boys. Joni Mitchell, looking impossibly beautiful, introduced herself to Muddy. He didn’t know who she was, and just saw her as a young pretty woman, his favorite dish. He flirted but she didn’t respond.
I’m told that there was a backstage cocaine room, with a glass table and a “sniff-sniff” tape playing, but I never saw it. I did, however, see through Rolling Stone Ron Wood’s nearly transparent prominent proboscis in profile. In the “green room,” Neil Young passed me a joint, smiling and saying, “We’re all old hippies here.” Though I was 27, something about “old hippies” resonated with me for the future.
Young was older than me by a few years and even had a couple of gray hairs then, but I remember thinking that nobody in that room was old yet except for Muddy and Pinetop. Now, I’m certainly an old hippie, though Pinetop, who is going strong at 88, is neither. [Pinetop would pass away in Austin, Texas, at age 97.] As for Neil Young, film of his performance revealed a white rock up his nose, which was edited out frame by frame for the movie.
California Governor Jerry Brown popped in and invited Bob Dylan to get together with him sometime. Dylan, relaxed and outgoing until The Governor arrived, instantly turned sullen and distracted, barely nodding without looking at Brown. The uncomfortable Governor soon left, and just before he was out of earshot Dylan laughed and reverted to his friendlier mode. Something is happening here, but I don’t know what it is.
When it was our turn to play, Muddy and Pinetop sang the light, swinging “Caledonia” as they had for “The Woodstock Album.” In hindsight, I think Muddy could have presented himself more strongly with a deep slow blues number like “Long Distance Call” which would feature his almighty slide guitar. But nobody could argue with his second song choice — “Mannish Boy” was always a show-stopper. It was preserved in full in The Last Waltz movie, which was released in ’78. Harp player tip: Muddy loved the way Butterfield played on that song, setting up a warble that “holds my voice up” rather than just playing the song’s signature lick.
Fatefully, only one camera was operating during our song, zooming on Muddy, but not changing angle. Standing close to Muddy, I was in every frame. Pinetop, at the piano way off to the side, unfortunately was never seen in the film. But when Muddy hollers “I’m a MAN” and we shout “Yeah” to answer,
PHOTO PROVIDED
From left, Robbie Robertson, Muddy Waters, Bob Margolin & Paul Butterfield
The Band are shown at the Winterland Theater in San Francisco, California in Nov. 6, 1976. Guitarist, Robbie Robertson; bassist, Rick Danko; drummer, Levon Helm along with singers Joni Mitchell and Neil Young perform during their farewell performance “The Last Waltz”.
as we always did in that song, you can hear Pinetop also yelling “Wahoo!” — which is a line from a politically incorrect joke that Pine had heard on the road and was fond of telling over and over in 1976.
Now, whenever The Last Waltz movie is shown on TV, a few people at my gigs tell me, “I saw you on TV!” and how I looked — happy or mad or scared or bored. I think they just project how they would feel. I was simply concentrating on playing, and particularly enjoying Muddy’s powerful shouting, Butterfield’s warbling-tension harp, Levon’s deep groove, and Robbie Robertson’s fiery guitar fills.
Eric Clapton followed us, and as he began his first solo, his guitar strap unfastened, and he nearly dropped his Stratocaster. In the movie, his lips distinctly mouth “F---!” and as he refastens the strap, Robbie picks up the solo and runs away with it.
Muddy and Pinetop went right to their rooms after our set, but I went down to jam back at the hotel after the concert. This is where I realized that some of those blues-oriented rock stars had watched me rehearsing with Muddy and been impressed that I was playing Old School Chicago Blues in his road band and helping to arrange the songs for our performance. I also had a very cool blues guitar with me — my late-’50s Gibson ES-150 arch-top, which I also cradle on the cover of my latest album, Hold Me to It. Bob Dylan approached me and said he hoped we’d get to jam together. Then he disappeared. I did play “Hideaway” and some slow blues with Eric Clapton, whom I met that night. Dr. John sat at the piano for hours and played along with everyone. My piano-pickin’ sister Sherry, who lived nearby and was hanging out, sat near him, eyes glued to his fonky fangers.
Around dawn, I put my old guitar back in its case and started to leave. Bob Dylan caught me in the hall and said, “I thought we were going to jam . . . .” I decided to stay awake a little longer. We had Dr. John on piano, Ron Wood on bass, Levon on drums, Butterfield on harp, and Clapton, Dylan, and myself playing guitars. There were no vocal microphones, and we all played softly enough to hear Dylan sing “Kind Hearted Woman” and a few other well-known blues songs. His trademark vocal eccentricities sounded outlandish in the blues, but he did make them his own. Generally, the blues we played that morning were not remarkable, but I was honored to be jamming with these fine musicians, and I realize that they belong to the same “club” as you do — deep blues lovers.
Recently, I read Levon Helm’s inside story of The Last Waltz in his autobiography, This Wheel’s on Fire (recommended!). I was shocked to find that because of time and budget constraints and Band politics, Muddy was nearly bumped from the show. Levon fought bitterly behind the scenes and prevailed not only to keep Muddy in but to indulge him with me and Pinetop too. We were treated as honored guests at The Last Waltz and I enjoyed the once-in-a-lifetime jam afterwards, but Levon never told us about making a stand for us. He just made us welcome. Ultimately, this gracious, classy, and tough gentleman was responsible for my good time there.
So ... what happened?
(From Page 5)
our stage manager since the first event in 1990, and Melissa Fischer, who has been a merchandise volunteer also since 1990, when she was just 8 years old. It was the vision of our founding members, Doug McMinn, Fred Daniele, Chris Bastress, the late Penny Austin, Charlie Lockard and yours truly, to present the first Billtown Blues Festival, and we did so on a private property in June 1990.
To hold an organization together for 35 years with all volunteers is remarkable. Together we brought the best of the best to Billtown.
We are proud to have brought to the BBA Festival stage legendary artists such as Chicago Blues legend Jimmy Rogers, Levon Helm (twice), Luther Allison, Willy “Big Eyes” Smith, Canned Heat, Johnny Winter, Sista Monica, Marie Mauldaur, Sam Lay, William Clark and so many more. Also performing at the festival were up-and-coming artists who were not yet household names, such as Eddie 9-Volt, McKinley James, Deanna Bogart, National Reserve, Reverand Peyton’s Big Damn Band, Ana Popovic, Tab Benoit, Diunna Greenleaf and so many more. The BBA always included local and regional talent in the lineup, presenting many times over the years the late Ben Andrews, Queen Bee and the Blue Hornet Band, Billy Price, the Nighthawks, Doug McMinn, Shawn Strickland, Miz Ida. A complete listing of all performers over our 35-year history is available at https://www.billtownblues. org/billtown-blues-photos.
What’s next for the BBA? We will continue to honor our mission as a nonprofit volunteer organization, devoted to the arts in Lycoming County and especially to celebrating the blues art form. Instead of facing the year-round demands of producing a festival, we will focus our efforts on producing smaller events during the year. Friday October 17th will bring Skyler Saufley back to us from Alabama. Plans are also under way for our annual fundraiser, Fall into the Blues, set for November 15th.
ASSOCIATED PRESS
PHOTO PROVIDED
A scene from the first Billtown Blues Festival in 1990.
The Marching Blues: Fife & Drum Tradition
By Urie Kline
Every musical genre has its stereotypical images and symbols; the sharply dressed jazz saxophonist comes to mind, for example. The blues has its stock representation too, in the guitar (complete with bended string), harmonica, and . . . fife?
Even allowing for inventive imaginations, most wouldn’t pick fifes and drums as traditional blues instruments, but in one region of Mississippi, that association couldn’t be more natural. In the hills of Northern Mississippi, fifes and drums form a distinctive local country blues tradition. Larger and more DIY than the fifes used in colonial Williamsburg, the flutes (made from local cane) nevertheless provide a high-pitched melodic pattern against the syncopated cadences of the snare and bass drums. With their homemade fifes and cobbled-together drumlines, these groups stand in sharp
contrast to the electrified blues with all its modern production values (some might say trappings).
This is not to say the music has remained completely undiscovered. America’s folklorist Alan Lomax was the first to record the style in 1942 (Evans, 1972); over half a century later, F&D practitioner Othar Turner (c. 1908–2003) appeared in Scorcese’s The Blues documentary (Mississippi Blues Trail). Born in 1908, Turner was a seminal figure whose family and communal gatherings were key sites of F&D musicking (Mississippi Blues Trail). In contrast to the guitar bluesmen in juke joints, the fife and drum groups were the equivalent of backcountry picnic radio, family-friendly and providing a place for celebration in what was and remains a rural, impoverished (one might say overlooked and underserved) part of the country.
With the blues and jazz, it is easy for commentators to play up the elements of “African survivals” in the music, and one need only point to the “hot” (i.e., “syncopated”) rhythms and heavy use of improvisation to make a case for this connection. While F&D would easily fall within the African diaspora on those merits alone, the very sound of the instrument (at least to my ears) harkens back to cowrie-studded flutes played in the Sahel of Africa, with an eerie tone (to the unattuned ear) and hypnotic, trance-like rhythms.
It seems fitting enough that fife and drum blues is the acoustic backdrop to family pig
roasts; Turner’s granddaughter, Sharde Thomas, continues the tradition, injecting the tradition with much-needed youthful vigor. A backwoods style of country blues, fife and drum music faces the challenges of all hyper-localized folk arts, like drift to the region’s large cities combined with TikTok attention spans. Given all of this, it bodes well that a young woman who quite literally grew up in the tradition represents its future.
Should you wish to check out some classic performances, there are a number of documentary clips on YouTube. Any material by Othar (also known as “Otha”) Turner and Napolian Strickland represents the core of the tradition in the 20th century; the former’s work with the Rising Star Fife and Drum Band represents the best entry point, not least because Sharde Thomas has taken creative control of the group in the wake of her grandfather’s passing.
Sources:
Evans, David (1972). “Black Fife and Drum Music in Mississippi.” Mississippi Folklore Register, 6(3): 94–107. Archived from the original on 2017-0309. Retrieved 2005-1001 via Folkstreams.
Mississippi Blues Trail. Mississippi Blues Commission. https://msbluestrail. org/blues-trail-markers/ otha-turner
By DAVE STRICKLER
The 33rd annual New York State Blues Festival was held June 12–14, 2025, at the New York State Fairgrounds in Syracuse, New York. This event was free to the public. Yes, you read that correctly—it was a free event, a pretty hard deal to beat. You just had to pay $10 to park your car or $5 to park your motorcycle.
The fairgrounds are about 3 hours north of Williamsport via any number of routes, all of which take about the same amount of time. Onsite camping is available for a fee, and an abundant number of hotels surround the fairgrounds. Over the course of the three-day event, there were 14 groups playing on the main stage, as well as four acts playing on the side stage during changeovers of artists on the main stage. An abundance of food vendors surrounded the central grassy viewing area, with an adequate amount of shade trees.
The main acts participating in this year’s event included Kat Riggins and her Blues Revival. Kat played the Billtown Blues Festival a few years ago, at which time she featured our
own Gabe Stillman. The Chris O’Leary Band was up second on Thursday, followed by The Three Kings, featuring Chris Cain and Albert Castiglia. You might remember Chris playing at the SideBar this past April 12th to a sold-out crowd. Friday started with Ron Spencer & Jumpstart’s 20th Anniversary Celebration. They are a Central New York old-school rhythm and blues group. Tim Herron, who plays an eclectic mix of American roots music, was on the side stage, followed by Blue Avenue, featuring Joanna Nix and Mark Doyle. Syracuse-based The Kingsnakes, who backed John Lee Hooker from 1987 to 1990, did the early evening set on the main stage.
The final act on Friday, Southern Avenue, had received a 2020 Grammy Award nomination for “Best Contemporary Blues Album.” They do a blend of blues, soul and gospel music. Saturday started off with the Blues Ignition Band, a local youth music group similar to our own Uptown Music Collective. While they were very good, my heart and soul are still with the UMC students; I’d put them up against any other youth group. The Jake Lozo Band, with its hot guitar work, showed influences of Buddy Guy, B. B. King and Ronnie Earl. Tom Barnes, with his acoustic guitar, played the side stage prior to the
return of the Westcott Jug Suckers to the main stage. If you like the mix of a jug band and zydeco, you’ll enjoy these guys. Another award-winning Central New York band, The Ripcords, played the main stage before the Shylocks Duo hit the side stage. Moving into the early evening hours, Georgia-born and Grammy-nominated Jontavious Willis had the crowd on its feet for an hour as he worked up a sweat and came down into the audience, to the enjoyment of everyone. One of my favorites, Ruthie Foster, belted out a number of songs with her soulful voice as she worked the stage. Ruthie had just played at Bucknell University a few weeks earlier. And last but not least, the headliner act of the night was Warren Haynes, who had previously played with the Allman Brothers, Gov’t Mule, the Dead, Santana and Willie Nelson, to name but a few. People were still coming in the main gate to see him as he started to play.
This free event could not have happened without the tremendous support of all of the sponsors, who donated very generously to the cause.
Catching Up with Dan Stevens
at the Bullfrog Brewery, May 2025
By Bonnie Tallman
It had been a while since Charlie (Lockard) and I had seen Dan Stevens. When we realized we could catch him at the Bullfrog, we immediately
Rishell and the legendary Dave Van Ronk. But having followed Dan for years, I can say that his real teachers have been the open road and the life that comes with it. Unlike many full-time touring musicians, who view travel as a necessary inconvenience, Dan embraces it. The miles, the mishaps and the people he’s met along the way have all fueled his music and stories. They aren’t just background— they’re the foundation of
Dan’s taken the road less traveled—literally. He’s hitchhiked, hopped freight trains across the country more than five times and weathered it all: a car fire, brutal storms and unexpected adventures. He even served as a mate on David Crosby’s sailboat the Mayan, sailing throughout Central and South America. Yes, Dan is also an accomplished sailor, rock climber and bull rider and a vintage guitar collector.
Musically, Dan has spent a lifetime studying the nuances of
Piedmont style, Delta blues, finger picking and slide guitar. He’s always held himself to a high standard of authenticity, believing the music and the audience deserve nothing less. His sets blend folk, blues and Americana seamlessly, delivered on a rotating cast of vintage instru ments—often older than he is—in cluding resonators, Nationals and even one- or two-string guitars with their own stories.
A Day to Remember: My Greatest Sea Story
LBy Dan Stevens
ife has taken various twists and turns as I have endeavored to follow disparate interests and meld them into some kind of coherent narrative, with only limited success. I think the problem has been that I am incurably curious and am fascinated by so many things that I have always had a hard time deciding which competing interests to pursue at any given time. Thus, my existence seems to have been broken down into somewhat mutually exclusive sections, in an effort to bring some order to the chaos. My strategy was to dive head first into the pursuit of a particular passion, drinking it in
and thus endeavoring to experience it fully, before being inexorably pulled in another seemingly contradictory direction. I was doggedly determined to fit it all in despite the awkward fit of some of the puzzle pieces.
One of my “lifetimes” I spent as a professional sailor.
Through a remarkable set of circumstances, I was able to procure, as a relatively novice sailor, one of the greatest sailing jobs ever, as First Mate aboard the Schooner Brilliant at the Mystic Seaport Museum. I held this position for two years in the early 90s. The boat was a Sparkman and Stevens–designed 70-ft. schooner and was unusual in many ways. Built during the depression by P. T. Barnum’s
brother, she had a teak hull as well as the traditional teak decks. Since everyone was out of work at the time, top craftsmen were employed and only the best materials were used in her construction. She was a beauty. And fast? We won every classic wooden boat race we entered and were the pride of the fleet, turning heads on our weekly trips to Block Island, Newport, Nantucket, Martha’s Vineyard and other amazing harbors in Southern New England.
During these years, I would seek sailing positions in warmer climes in the winter, and in that way I found a berth on the 153-ft. Pride of Baltimore II, a sleek and fast privateer, the kind of vessel used during the American
Revolution to strike at British Naval ships and then outrun them to escape retaliation. Pride I had gone down at sea in the Bermuda Triangle with several crew members lost, inspiring the City of Baltimore to rally to construct a new vessel with the same lines but incorporating modern safety features. On only the second voyage of Pride II, we set sail from Baltimore in December, with ice hanging from the rigging; we were bound for the warm waters of the Gulf Stream, Bermuda, the Eastern Caribbean, Venezuela, Puerto Rico and the Bahamas before returning home—about a four-month voyage in all. I could tell many stories from the passage, including weathering a gale in St. Georges Harbor, Bermuda, on Christmas Eve as well as encountering another gale at night off the treacherous shifting shoals off Cape Hatteras, known as the graveyard of the Atlantic. But I digress.
Part of the journey was spent in beautiful Marigot Bay, St. Lucia, an especially picturesque harbor. Just to the south were the Pitons, two giant pillars of rock towering hundreds of feet over the beach below. They served as icons, picturing prominently in postcards depicting the island’s incredible beauty. One day we sailed to the Pitons and anchored off the beach, taking the dinghy ashore to catch a glimpse of the legendary Buppa the elephant. Buppa had been brought to the island years
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ago and could be seen happily running out from the thick palms and jungle-like vegetation when she spotted a visiting yacht, hoping to be fed her favorite delicacy… grapefruit. We gladly obliged, delighting in the whole bizarre experience.
On the last day of our time on the island, our vessel was hailed on the ship’s radio. It turned out that there were two other tall ships in the area just off the coast. One, the Pelican, was a large Barkentine with square sails, which had been functioning as a “Head Boat,” taking tourists from the main town of Castrees out for day sails to the Pitons and back. She was a steel-hulled vessel built originally in France as an Arctic fishing trawler. Pelican had an unusual rig, based on a design employed by the Barbary Pirates, that made her more maneuverable than the typical square-rigged vessels of the day. The other tall ship was the majestic Astrid. Built in 1918 in the Netherlands as a lugger, she was later transferred to Swedish ownership, renamed Astrid and sailed on the Baltic Sea until 1975. She then sailed under a Lebanese flag and was allegedly used for drug smuggling. After being found burnt out on the coast of England in the early 1980s, she was overhauled and used as a sailing training vessel.
We happened to be raising anchor when we got the call, about to embark on the next leg of our journey to Venezuela. We were invited out for a sail, and, up for the challenge, we set a course taking us to the vicinity of the tall ships that were already under sail near each other and were biding their time until we could catch up.
The sight of these two amazing ships on the horizon built our expectations and excitement about what was to come. It’s one thing to see one of these great vessels at a dock or even in the distance at sea. To be sailing within tens of feet of these massive hulls while being immersed in the power of the wind and the waves is another experience entirely.
The Pride is a traditionally rigged vessel, and it took most of the crew to accomplish things like raising a sail or hoisting the anchor. We considered ourselves the lucky ones when we were tapped to climb aloft under way to attend to one of the ship’s many topsails. The adventurous voyage had truly been a taste of heaven for me, and it was about to get even better.
There we were, sailing along at a brisk pace in the blustery 25-knot wind that blows consistently in that part of the Caribbean, literally right next to these two behemoth beauties. I was in my favorite spot, the foredeck, helping to deal with the large and heavy canvas sails. Several of us climbed out on the 30-ft bowsprit (left) to unfurl a large jib; as much concentration as it took to navigate the foot ropes, I was still unable to take my eyes off the two huge vessels only yards away.
At one point, the captain ordered the jib raised, and as we labored to hoist the heavy sail, the wind filled it in and we surged powerfully forward. With surprising speed, showing her colors as a Privateer, the Pride began to dramatically pull ahead. As she did, the Captain called for a volley
of cannon fire from the two authentic cannons that we had aboard.
The mate cried, “Fire in the Hole!!!”… and then there was a resounding BA BOOM!!!
Again, “Fire in the Hole!!!” … BA BOOOM!!!
The cannon fire echoed as the shots across the bow reverberated off the nearby Pitons. Then after trimming the sails for maximum efficiency, we rocketed forward with remarkable speed and set our course for South America. As the Astrid and Pelican slowly receded in the distance, we all reflected, still in awe of what we had just experienced.
So many times I have told that story, and every time I have introduced it with the words “Of all the great stories of my time at sea—this is my Greatest Sea Story.”
But wait … there’s more ….
One year later, the following winter, I was looking for another sailing job. I picked up a copy of Wooden Boat Magazine. Brilliant and the Pride had both been featured in its pages, and it was a favorite read every month. I turned to the classifieds in the back and noticed an ad for a position as First Mate aboard a private schooner out of the Bahamas. I was a little apprehensive, as I had heard stories about crew aboard private yachts being treated as servants by wealthy owners. I had lots of questions when I made my very first call in my attempt to find a berth for the season.
I was able to get ahold of the captain and found that the boat was docked on the island of Bonaire off the coast of Venezuela. My interest was piqued as I heard more of the details. The boat was another classic, a 70-ft. wooden shallow-draft schooner with centerboard. Unique and designed by the famous John Alden to navigate the shallow waters found in the Bahamas, where she had been for the last ten years. We would be delivering her to San Diego and thus would be traversing the Panama Canal and visiting some of the world’s most exotic ports along the way.
I was still wondering about the owner and was told he was a musician. Hmmmm …. Good so far. I took a chance and asked the captain his name. Who knows? The sailing community is a surprisingly small one, and owners of the classic boats and sailors often know one another. He replied, “David Crosby.” It didn’t hit me at first. My mind started putting the puzzle together. David Crosby? Yes! THE David Crosby of Crosby Stills and Nash. Wow! What an adventure I was about to have and I couldn’t wait for it to begin!!
I flew down to Venezuela to meet the Mayan, and through the course of the trip, as predicted, we visited some very wonderful spots—Cartagena, Colombia, the San Juan Islands of Panama, lots of exotic ports in Costa Rica featuring wild parrots and monkeys. We hit most of the destinations on the west coast of Mexico including Mazatlán, Acapulco, Puerta Vallarta and Cabo San Lucas. Sadly, I didn’t get to spend time with Crosby until we got to San Diego. He was supposed to have met us on an idyllic island off the coast of Costa Rica and was to have stayed for a month (wow, that would’ve been fun!) He was injured in a motorcycle accident, however, and was laid up in a wheelchair
for six weeks and couldn’t make the trip.
Now for the small world story of all time … .
There we were—the three crew, a Panamanian named Ozzie, a pirate-like character named Cliff and myself. We were sitting around a table having a couple beers at the Panama Canal Yacht Club. The term yacht club was a stretch. It was a rundown stucco structure with an open-air tiki bar feel. There was barbed wire around the perimeter, separating it from the city of Colon, Panama, and the word was not to venture outside of the fence. Despite this, we went into town one day, and everywhere we went, we saw big bullet holes in the walls, evidence of the U.S. invasion that had captured Manuel Noriega a year before. We spent a week there over Christmas that year as we waited in line to transit the Canal.
One particularly hot day (hotter than all the other hot days in Panama), we went to the bar to get out of the sun and have a cold drink. Several other yachtsmen from around the world had the same idea, so before long beers were flowing and so were the stories. Someone had an idea. We would go around the table and each of us would tell what we considered to be our greatest sea story. As eager as I was to hear the others’ tales, I couldn’t wait for my turn. I was certain that mine would be the greatest of the great sea stories. When my turn came, I told with relish, as I had done before so many times, the saga related above. My Greatest Sea Story. With great enthusiasm, I built up to the climax where the cannons fired. “Fire in the hole!!” BA BOOM!!! BA BOOM!!! I relived again the excitement of sailing away from the two great vessels into the horizon on that incredible day. I was sure that my story was the best and literally the Greatest Sea Story.
The torch was passed to the Englishman to my left. An older fellow with the quintessential seaman’s gray hair and white beard, he looked at me in astonishment. He exclaimed that his story had already been told. Puzzled, we asked what he was talking about. He said that the story he had intended to tell and had been about to begin was the same story I had told. Still no one understood until he explained that on the great day of sailing with the tall ships off St. Lucia that I had described, he had been the captain of the Astrid!!! He too had always rated the account of that very day as his Greatest Sea Story!
I have told this tale many times and am still amazed at how the stars had aligned to make this happen. The incidents were one year apart, and the timing was impeccable. I just happened to get the job on Crosby’s boat, happened to be in Panama at that exact moment and happened to go to the yacht club on that particular day. We happened to meet, happened to sit at the same table and of all things happened to decide to tell our greatest sea story. If any of these details had been absent for either of us, this amazing confluence of events never would’ve taken place.
I never heard from him again, but I suspect that somewhere in the world there is an Englishman telling of the day that his Greatest Sea Story became his Greatest Small World Story, as it had for me.