CAMBRIDGE, MA - July 7--Tony Bramwell, life-long friend and long-time assistant and confidant to The Beatles, is the author of the [arguably] most comprehensive biography of the acclaimed musical group titled Magical Mystery Tours—My Life With The Beatles. At one point in the book, Bramwell expresses his belief that today’s pop artists lack true performing talent and are only successful by artificially created means versus gifted craft; “The circuit and system is gone. ...but back in those days, musicians played small venues around London, Liverpool, or Manchester. Bands would get the obligatory Bedford van, or later a Transit, and literally schlep from gig to gig until they got to the Marquee in Wardour Street. But then, those musicians were good. Or they’d better be if they wanted to last. It always sounds old-fartish to say ‘It’s all gone, it’s all changed,’ but the standard is so poor now that most artists and bands today couldn’t come up through pure talent and a gig circuit.”

Ryanhood, not being like “most” artists and bands today, possess that pure talent that Bramwell feels is sorely missing in the music industry at the moment, and have honed and refined their musical presentation through extremely hard work—performing to audiences throughout the continental United States, and building a devoted following through merit and substance versus merely style. As aesthetically presentable as Ryanhood are, it’s their musical quality, first and foremost, that always shines through. Bramwell, I’m certain, would approve of them—and they reference the music of The Beatles directly, and often, in their performances.
_______________

Club Passim may not be the legendary Marquee, but it is as renowned and even celebrated as its London counterpart. Like the Marquee, Passim has seen residencies by then-unknown up-and-comers such as Shawn Colvin, Judy Collins, Joan Baez, and Peter Wolf, and has hosted performances from Tom Waits, Bob Dylan, and Bonnie Raitt, among a myriad of other noted artists. Also similar to the Marquee, headlining isn’t a given; in fact it is a difficult slot to attain and can only ultimately be accomplished through pure merit (read: talent and audience approval). Ryanhood worked hard to achieve the status of being a Club Passim headliner, and they found it necessary to prove themselves on more than one occasion in order to attain this privilege, which is the normal set of rules of engagement at this venue.

Passim has literally transmogrified itself from its rakish jazz club beginnings in the late 1950s into the “cultural center” it considers itself today. Yes; observe the stage backdrop in the photographs and notice that it reads “Club Passim—Folk Music and Cultural Center.” It doesn’t consider itself a venue for presentation of mainstream “pop,” and certainly not anything akin to “rock.” The club dislikes electric instruments.

If this gives the appearance of elitism, then rest assured that Club Passim wears this distinction like a trophy. In fact, Club Passim is often referred to as “Passim Center for the Arts.” Its mission statement asserts that it is “dedicated to the cultivation and presentation of folk music and culture...,” and they’re committed to this purpose and consider it a calling. I can’t guarantee readers much in life, but I can—with utmost confidence—assure you all to both a metaphysical and moral certitude that Club Passim considers what they present as high art and has a self-image mired in cultural superiority, and they’re proud of it to boot! It is considered by many long-time patrons to be a “sacred room.” As I noted in an earlier report, that room is no larger than 30’ X 40’ with a seating capacity of 125 (which is often exceeded) and is located in a subterranean-level brick-floored basement in the heart of Cambridge’s Harvard Square. It’s an anomaly even in Cambridge; it serves no alcohol (and allows none) and all food and beverages are of an organic source—even the coffee!

Passim can be a rough gig. Another thing I noted in an earlier report is that whereas the defining factor to Club Passim’s continued success is its audience, who support new musicians and are willing to listen with an open mind, that same audience possesses educated and discerning ears and settles for nothing less than extraordinary songwriting and performing ability. Passim audiences usually don’t possess a tendency to exhibit any sense of exuberance lest it be construed as irrational or unbecoming. It’s a sophisticated crowd, to be sure, and sometimes enthusiastic responses can be difficult to come by.

So, I’m not exaggerating when I proclaim Ryanhood’s return performance on Friday evening, July 7, a monumental achievement, as well as an enormous success. For one thing, they received a standing ovation after a demanded encore. Passim audiences aren’t notorious for their propensity to give standing ovations! That’s out of the ordinary. Spirited responses for worthy performances are the norm at Passim—not standing ovations.

Once again, Ryanhood sold out the venue to the extent that many were turned away, which is always a shame, but, to their everlasting credit, Club Passim is perhaps the only establishment in this community to honor the law of seating capacity, and given that it’s a sub-level room it would be outright unsafe for them not to. This is testimony to the fan base Ryanhood was able to build during their two-year residency in Boston.

Although Passim is seriously devoted to the preservation of the folk tradition, Ryanhood are “folk” only in the loosest sense of the term. That they play acoustic instruments is probably the primary link. In all reality they play acoustic rock with intelligent pop overtones and other various musical elements mixed in. They sound more like an alternative/indie act than anything related to pure folk music, and they’re certainly not modern beatniks. Their songs are not political nor are they predicated on protest of any sort.

Ryanhood’s everlasting appeal is rooted in the foundation that although they’re musically and instrumentally very sophisticated, they don’t present themselves as high art, and don’t take themselves too seriously. Their audience interaction is warm and very humorous. Allow me—yet again—to quote myself (I can’t be sued that way). Here is something I posted the very first time I saw them, on March 21, 2004; “Ryanhood possesses a level of talent that might justify a serious, ostentatious delivery; they could get away with it. Instead, these guys are very warm with their audience and are outright hilarious between songs. I don’t know if either Cameron or Ryan has formally studied theater, but their rapport with a crowd is both funny and motivational. Cameron has comedic potential over and beyond his musical talents, and Ryan doesn’t miss a window of opportunity to deliver a witty line either. This element of Ryanhood is what separates their recorded work from the live performance. They are highly skilled musicians, but they are by no means pompous, pretentious, or arrogant. They’re great fun!” This aspect of Ryanhood’s performance presentation hasn’t changed even a scintilla, even as their popularity has grown by quantum leaps. If anything they’ve refined it.

This evening’s performance was book-ended by two Ryanhood set standards from the Forward CD, “Army” and “Welcome You Into My Head,” both of which have gone through a musical transformation of sorts, to the extent that they sound different (as well as new and fresh) today. I see it as refinement as opposed to improvement. There was nothing wrong or lacking in the original versions; they (the songs) have merely taken on different personas with different nuances. In the vernacular I would take issue with the notion that Ryanhood has greatly “improved” since they began performing together. They’ve changed, for sure, but that’s the beauty of their act; things that remain static (in music, business, science, economics, whatever) become stagnant, and stability becomes an enemy. Ryanhood are just too creative to let things stand still musically, including the arrangements of their older songs. Ryan never does the same solo twice, and Cameron always changes—however slightly—the way he phrases his instrumental accompaniments. The only thing you can be certain of when you see a subsequent Ryanhood performance is that you’re going to hear something different and fresh, even if you’re familiar with the songs already. As their second CD titles suggests, things are always going to be moving forward musically, which means infinitely changing.

Ryanhood had a penchant for incorporating familiar tunes extemporaneously within their own songs from their earliest performances, and they’ve refined this to an art form unique to them. Fusing two different songs together (such as their time-tested, crowd-pleasing “Mrs. Robinson/Ms. Jackson”) has been a Ryanhood mainstay since their inception. Ryan explained to the Club Passim audience that he and Cameron had just discovered, at a New York City performance the previous evening, that there is a term for what they’ve done for years. Apparently it’s known as a “mash-up.” Well, Ryanhood are skilled practitioners of the mash-up; they may have invented it.

The Passim audience heard several new songs which will appear on Ryanhood’s forthcoming CD. If the songs performed this evening are an accurate indication, then this next CD should be the one that breaks Ryanhood out to the mainstream mass market. One of these new songs, “Around the Sun,” is a collaborative composition by Ryanhood and Boston-based singer-songwriter Owen Plant, who appeared this evening as the surprise opening act. It was a most delightful surprise, and Plant joined Ryanhood at the end of their set to perform their new song. Owen Plant, like Ryanhood, is an acoustic performer whose music is more influenced by world music and modern alternative/indie pop/rock than by folk traditions; and Plant has managed to rise to the status of a recurring Club Passim headliner—although he sometimes looks more like the traditional folkie, especially when he affixes his Bob Dylan-like harmonica. He’s a terrific performer. Visit his site.
_______________

Shortly after the performance, I forayed across Harvard Square and through Harvard Yard and made several phone calls to tell (more like brag to) other Ryanhood fans I know about how phenomenal the show was. One of these people asked me if I thought the producer had made a discernible difference. I replied that I didn’t hear anything radically different about the essence of what Ryanhood have always been about, and thought that perhaps the solidity and tightness of the brand new songs may be attributable to the producer’s efforts. Ryanhood did explain to the Passim audience that they have been engaged in extensive rehearsals during the past few months out in the West Coast.

Ryanhood have been working with a well-known, accomplished “name” producer in Los Angeles (Ross Hogarth). His experience in the studio and his connections within the industry should prove to be very beneficial to Ryanhood, but it doesn’t mean that Ryanhood has suddenly morphed from what they’ve always been to something else overnight. Ryanhood’s act has developed and evolved significantly in the past year; I especially noticed the changes in the nature of the new songs they have introduced to their act as early as last autumn, which have a roots-based “Americana” feel to them in contrast to their older material. Ryanhood has always been very instrumentally adept and musically innovative, and has displayed an intrinsic sensuality in their playing. Ryanhood has always been musically curious; I could hear everything from jazz, bluegrass, blues, and Bach to Bartok, in addition to influences of every type of contemporary rock, pop, soul, and world music, and they impart their vigorous virility to it. If anything, Ryanhood are more apt to incorporate these diverse influences in their songs than ever before.

I’m not a music reviewer (as I’m sure is evident in these reports). I’m a product of the sports desk and the political beat; but I’ll wager that many things that apply there pertain to the music industry as well. Just as no well-known name sports agent, owner, or manager would back any athlete that didn’t possess the requisite talent and promise for success, and no distinguished name political consultant would risk working for and endorsing a candidate that s/he didn’t perceive as a winner—my hunch is that no celebrated name producer would agree to work with an unsigned musical act, for any amount of money, unless that act exhibited every element inherent to potential for success. I don’t think an industry veteran—producer or anyone else—would put his/her reputation on the line otherwise.

What it comes down to is this; I expect that this award-winning producer will be able to make optimal use of the benefits that a state-of-the-art professional recording studio can present to Ryanhood. Ryanhood brings their own experience and pure talent to the table. In this day of over-producing, over-dubbing, pro-tools and the like, where a group’s inadequacies can be camouflaged by engineering gimmicks, I would suspect that we’re still going to hear Ryanhood Live— as if we ourselves were listening at their recording session. Ryan and Cameron’s playing, as always, will be flawless, and the songs which we heard this evening, along with the others, will undoubtedly be exuberant and upbeat, making for a positive, uplifting musical experience. The last thing I would expect is a transformed, “slicked-up” version of Ryanhood, because I know this act better than that, and I can assure everyone that THAT’S never going to happen!
_______________

But things change, don’t they? Even the words to the songs are subject to revision, given Cameron’s discretion, of course. “Welcome You Into My Head” was a case in point; Cameron changed one of the song’s infamous lines. It was the evening’s encore, and immediately after the standing ovation one fan ran up to Ryan and asked “What happened to the Parasol?” That was the line that Cameron changed. I forget what Ryan told this young man (and I was standing right next to them, no less), but it’s part and parcel of the aggregate Ryanhood musical experience—that nothing will ever stand still; everything is subject to change as the mood and the universal elements prescribe. And THAT’S what Ryanhood are really all about, and that’s the one thing that won’t change.

David D[ionne]