Okay, lots of news to spread your way so let's get this party started...
Tonight, May 10, at 9pm, after trivia, we have Cold Forty Three (Heavy Rock/Reggae from L.A.) $5.
Tomorrow night Jazz guitarist Laurie Dameron opens at 5pm. Free.
At 7pm tomorrow we have Something Underground and friends! Opening for SU is Ryan Chris, playing acoustic (with Bradley Weaver and Carlos Newman joining on lap steal and cajon, respectively.) After Something Underground at 10:30pm is Q Diva Experience. Watch out! It is rare we get to hear Something Underground at the D Note and we are excited. This will be a great night of music. $8.
Saturday at 3pm we have Sentimental Sounds Big Band. Free.
We have a very special last minute show that was added on Sat at 6:30pm. Swing Je T'aime with Bjorn Thoroddsen (Icelandic guitar legend) $10. This is one of those magic shows. We had something that fell out last minute at 6:30p. Then Swing Je T'aime called us to see if by any chance we had 6:30p open for Bjorn who was coming through town for another gig at the same time. We did!
At 8:30pm Friday we have Bluefolk Dreamers w/ Connie Hannah, Atomic Conundrum $5
Then at midnight we have New Old Calvary (rollicking bluegrass) $5
For yoga on Sunday morning at 10am we have a new teacher for the summer, Keith, and he's been doing a great job. Come give his class a try. Melissa Ivey and Adam DeGraff play live music.
Then at 11:30 we have Mello Cello w/ Monica Sales. What a lovely way to spend a Sunday.
Next Tuesday at 6pm we have Ralston Valley HS Jazz Ensemble (free) followed by BlueStoneMojo Jam Band Jazz at 8:30pm. $5.
Then next Wednesday we have the premier of Farm Jazz, the jam replacing the Clam Daddys for the summer. Marlo (which many of you will recognize from the Pickin Parlour) will be hosting and it will be beautiful.
can't wait to see you soon,
Extra Credit: A thought provoking lyrical poem by Nathalie Anderson
How long since you last gazed into a face
this beautiful, since a face this beautiful
opened its gaze for you? A full moon couldn't
loom any larger, rising late and low
in hazy autumn, couldn't fill any
lake or pool more full than your eye is full,
holy water rising in the holy well.
You can't follow a third of what he's saying,
his lips moving slow, then fast, then slow, tilting
his face from seduction into friendliness
and back again, the words flying fast, birds
surprised from hedges, the lashes raising
and lowering their heavy wings, the hair
a dense cloud stroking and unravelling
over the hill's brow, the shirt washed to a
pale soft heft. Behind him in the pub, two
pipers, one's lean head shaved down to a shadow,
self-absorbed, arrogantly serious;
one curly-haired, wind-blown, gregarious
and gap-toothed. This one's different, looks at you,
at you only, your search-light. Is there danger?
There's always danger. The pipers pack their
sticks and bags, the guitarists click shut the doors
of their cases, the fiddlers raise their bows
precisely together, the lights go up
without your seeing. So this is what they once
called glamour: leave him so much as a ribbon,
your world can age without you. Water rising in the well.