Plenty of people go to see bands when they come through their town, but most people don’t think about everything that it takes to get those bands to their favorite club. Being on tour for a musician is both enlightening and daunting, as physically and mentally draining as it is stimulating. And no matter what, there are always stories to tell. In Tales From The Golden Road we let musicians tell their own stories of life on the road to get a behind-the-scenes, up-close look at what really goes down between each show.
This month Glide Magazine is excited to share dispatches from modern blues-soul practitioner The Reverend Shawn Amos, who is currently in the midst of his first European tour.
SELL-OUTS, SHEEP & STAMPPOT
Touring is a reminder that change is constant. No two gigs are ever alike. No two days are ever the same. Every moment is a walk into the unknown. Not unlike life. In fact, touring is meeting life head on. Our first five days in Holland have been a lesson in such unexpected joy, generosity, oddity and delight.
We spent our first full 24 hours on the ground rehearsing at our house in Haastrecht — a village of 4500 people in South Holland. It’s probably safe to say the people of Haastrecht have never heard a blues band blaring from a neighboring house.
This group of players has never played before today. Doctor Roberts, my guitar player, has been with me since nearly the start of this project and his sound has become an essential piece of my DNA. We’ve been on many road adventures together. This is our biggest. Hannah Dexter joined the band a few months ago. There is tremendous power in a female bassist. I watch audiences respond to Hannah night after night — not just her broad, intuitive playing but what she represents: a woman holding down the foundation in a musical world co-opted by men. Memphis native Rodd Bland admirably stepped in last minute after our drummer, Brady Blade, dropped out of the tour due to a family emergency. Rodd comes from blues royalty. His dad was blues singer Bobby “Blue” Bland. His godfather was B.B. King. He grew up playing with both and his playing is keeping us honest. He told us his dad was called “Reverend Doctor.” What better omen could you want?
By the end of the evening, we are gelling. We sound like a band. Time for sleep. Our first gig is on Saturday at the Ramblin’ Roots Festival.
***
The first show of our tour was also one of the biggest thrills I’ve had on stage. 1000 people packed into a concert hall in Utrecht, standing room only. The energy and connection are overwhelming. Tonight is the prize for all of the work it took to get here. It’s hard moving five people halfway across the world and lugging a van full of equipment on foreign roads. Performing is the reward and release. It heals the wounds, validates the sacrifice, and restores the spirit. Keith Richards says his time on stage is the only moment in his life where knows he’ll be left alone. I relate. No decisions. No wrangling people. No questions to be answered.
On a night like Saturday in Utrecht, it’s all worth it. People singalong, dance, line up to say hello after the show, ask for photos, autographs. It feels like Holland might be a home for us. A place where this thing finally takes root after three years.
On Sunday, we drive 90 minutes down the coast to Nieuw- en St. Joosland near the Belgian border. Touring with a band is a musical version of running for political office. Votes are won by playing every town large and small. Door-to-door. Shaking hands. Praying for a connection. This day we traded our sell-out crowd for 40 people in a small theater across the street from a field of sheep. After the gig, the theater owner made us a home cooked meal. She lives behind the theater with her dog and cats. A man asked me to sign a CD while he showed me photos of his trip to Chicago posing with Buddy Guy. He dug our version of “Hoodoo Man Blues.” A woman hugs me, saying my song “Brothers Keeper” made her cry. I find it hard to not do the same. I’m overwhelmed by the appreciation and so happy to see my songs find new Dutch homes.
A tale of two gigs. Worlds apart. Both rewarding beyond compare. Crowd size rarely matters as long as the connection is deep.
Monday is a day off. We record a Kitchen Table Blues installment that will be aired on our YouTube channel this coming Sunday. My harmonica amp needs repair and luckily I find a repair shop nearby in The Hague. In the evening, our AirBnB host comes over with his son and cooks us a traditional Dutch meal while we wrap rehearsal in the living room. We drink, eat Stamppot (mashed potatoes with greens), and answer questions about “that guy, Trump.” I can offer no excuses — only my hope that he will disappear after we get home November 8.
Bedankt, Holland. You’ve given us a hero’s welcome. We’ll pay it back as we play our next six shows for you.
Stay tuned for more!
All photos Beth Herzhaft (herzco.com)
