I’m raw. I went to church Sunday and bawled my eyes out. Tears of gratitude, release, relief, joy, and, probably, some fear. oh yeah that fear always creeps in, somehow. But let’s talk about the joy. I love singing. It’s my favorite thing, just to praise. Like that poem of Rilke’s where every line ends in “I praise.” (“Ich rühme,” — praise, celebrate, glory, or boast). Yes, I glory. Like a bird, who cannot contain his exuberance, praise and joy are tumbling upwards out of me. I’m doing what I was engineered to do, and getting better at it. There’s nothing better than making music with people you love and trust, and I had forgotten that. I played solo for so long (and I do love playing solo still). I lived solo too. In fact I still live, pretty much, solo. Alone. I feel my soul longing for connection, for love, for fun, for touch. I drank. I got so gone, I got so wrong. It’s fun. It’s fun to take one swallow after another of gorgeous amber bourbon and feel it flowing down and out into you, ok? and then to feel your body become a big, numb mass, through which a buzz can course. To feel and act, briefly, free and beautiful. But one day I got scared. Seriously scared, about the amount I was drinking. I looked in the mirror and looked old and worn to myself.

But wait this is becoming about fear again. Let’s go back to joy. God let me remember that I love making music with people I love (in this case, Toby Hazlett, Gerko Tempelman, and Paul Phillips). And in response, I praise. Last night I emailed a woman and told her I had a crush on her. I’ve hung out with her maybe 4 or 5 times, never had a real conversation. I saw her praying Sunday, in stillness and devotion, with her whole being. It was a beautiful thing and it moved me and I emailed her and told her so, spilling my heart like I used to when I was 16. Today I woke up and felt a wave of regret. Oh man what have I done. Did I go too far? It’s the same feeling I used to have after a night (or day) of drinking. But I wasn’t drunk when I wrote her. Only tired, happy, and raw. It was just the praise, tumbling out.

“Praise, my dear one.
Let us disappear into praising.
Nothing belongs to us.”

–Ranier Maria Rilke,
(From Elegy to Marina Tsvetayeva-Efron)

My friend Rachelle came upon the idea of having some guest bloggers share their impressions of our shows out on the road.  Bryan Perry was nice enough to share this write-up of our first show on the tour, at the lovely Morris Organic Farm in Irwin, PA:

My friends and family loved hearing Jason and his band at the Morris Farm outside Pittsburgh. Sitting among fireflies at the edge of rolling hills, you’d have though we were in Jason’s native North Carolina once he started his set.

He played extensively from his wonderful new album, Highliner, a collection of wistful originals that shape his current geography of longing, love, and journeying. Jason’s musicianship is excellent as ever – sometimes delicate, sometimes driving, always effortless – and seeing him in the flesh is a treat.

I especially liked the kinetic “Train,” which nicely highlighted Jason’s distinctive upper vocal range, and made me want to hop on a boxcar to follow him to his next tour stop. “When I Came Down Off the Mountain” was a bluegrassy, down-home track (even better on vinyl, with backup fiddles – buy it!) that I think will get playtime on independent radio.

My wife loved “Outposts,” a narrative ballad marked less by youthful yearning and more by wisdom and contentedness – maybe this is what you appreciate more around age 40?

Jason has a fondness for lost souls, what-ifs, and quirky turns of history; “Moon Mission” touches on the loneliness that can come with courage and transformation, and “Snowstorm” is sort of a love song that references George Washington’s plight in icy New Jersey – and teaches some valuable vocabulary lessons.

Late in the set, he played some old crowd favorites from previous collaboration with Brian Funck, including “Hand Drawn Flowers,” “Lionsong,” “Your Voice at Tidewater,” and a joyful, upbeat rendition of “Carolina,” which is a beautiful love letter to his home state. With top-notch support from drummer Gerko Tempelman and bassist Toby Hazlett, this was a great evening for a new listen to an old friend – catch Jason and Highliner this summer!

Bryan Perry

Here’s a little gem, unearthed last year. The three Stooges in a 1938 home movie.

This footage was filmed 75 years ago today (July 1, 1938), on Atlantic City, NJ’s steel pier, by George Mann, an avid photographer who was better known as half of the acrobatic comedy dance duo Barto and Mann.  Barto and Mann were huge stars in vaudeville (where they first encountered the Stooges) and later on Broadway. George was always pulling out his camera, taking pictures of his showbiz pals and his wife, Barbara Bradford Mann, who appears in the video above as the beautiful blonde giving the Stooges a run for their money. George plays the tall interloper who calls security over just as Curly is about to get lucky. Brad Smith, the Manns’ son, who edited and uploaded the video, posted this about his mother:

“Barbara Bradford, married to George Mann, was a John Robert Powers model, appearing in ads for Coca-Cola, Chesterfield, Buick, Railway Express, Kodak, Ivory, and many other businesses. She was the model for a painting done by Bradshaw Crandal that appeared on the February 1937 cover of Cosmopolitan. In 1937, she was voted the most beautiful woman in New York.”

here are some of George’s photos from that day.

(Here’s Moe anticipating his role in You Nazty Spy, in which he becomes the first Hollywood actor to lampoon Hitler. George doesn’t look happy about it.)

You can find more of George Mann’s photos here, here, and here.

Here’s a set of old theater marquees, documenting some of the many appearances of Barto and Mann.

These stunning photos offer a glimpse into a lost time — a time when it wasn’t strange to have an elephant backstage, when theater marquees were spilling over with the names of live singers, dancers, comedians, and jugglers, when a guy could not only make a living but become world-famous as an acrobat-comedian, rolling across a wide-open country with his gorgeous wife and a camera, ready to lovingly capture the youth, passion, cameraderie, optimism, and joy of his fellow troupers and friends.

Many thanks to Brad Smith for giving me permission to link to his photos.