Addicted To Noise contributing editor Beth Winegarner reports: "I should have stayed in bed. There were more people there," quipped Leo Kottke during his performance at San Francisco's Great American Music Hall last night (July 18). The bluegrass guitarist was actually quoting Ronnie Scott from a bad night on the road, instead playing to a house packed with eager -- and occasionally elitist -- fans.
Kottke first showed up in 1969 with a stripped-down and out-of- this-world record called, simply, 6- and 12-String Guitar. What he does with those guitars is another matter entirely, and after nearly 30 years in the business, Kottke's style and talent is yet unmatched. His music is essential bluegrass, the sound of travel and train engines chugging their way across the country, the sound of poverty and humor and peace.
Thursday's set was understated, melodic and breathtaking; one moment Kottke was telling the story of a ridiculous Hungarian lithographer, the next he was playing the melancholy echoes of the lithographer's father, who was imprisoned for 26 years while his daughters grew up in the apartment across the street. Tossing in healthy doses of slide guitar, blues and jazz, Kottke's music proves timeless; tracks from his debut album stood alongside more recent work without showing their age. He only balked slightly at a request for "Vaseline Machine Gun," replying with, "boy, I wish I'd called that something else," but honored the entreaty during his second set.
Though most of Kottke's work consists of complex acoustic instrumentals, he occasionally raises his baritone voice (which he once likened to "geese farts on a muggy day," though the comparison doesn't stick) to sing. Vocals included "Room at the Top of the Stairs" and "Corinna, Corinna," and Kottke's between-song stories kept the audience in stitches. A new song, "Snorkel," was written in the middle of a flooding venue in Australia; reminscence about Frank Zappa accompanied his cover of the sleepy, comforting "Lying in the Arms of Mary."
The effects of seminal bluegrass artists like Kottke can be viewed in today's folk-rock explosion, but once in a while it's good to return to the source. He manages to make the six-string guitar sound like it has 12 strings; the 12-string, in turn, sounds like a symphony of bells, some of them drunk on Old Crow. Kottke's work is rich in emotion, a pleasure for walk-in listeners and serious audiophiles alike. Even so, his modesty outdoes his ability, and it's clear Kottke is still making music simply because he loves it. Letting a low note ring through the hall, he explained softly, "excuse me while I enjoy this for a moment..."
This article was originally published in Addicted to Noise.