NASHUA, NH - March 14--"Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost." John vi. 12.

It’s not a sacred room, but it does seem to produce a special atmosphere, at least where Ryanhood spontaneous combustion is concerned. I’m referring to Rivier College’s Guild Hall Main Lounge. There is nothing particularly elegant or magnanimous about it; it’s just a big room—a room that contains no stage, lights, or other amenities suitable to musical performers. And yet…

On two occasions (November 30, 2005, and March 14, 2007) Ryanhood has taken their highly intuitive spontaneity to its optimum level in this cavernous room. Surprises were the norm, including choice of material, type of inter-song banter, and an ever-so-slightly altered mode of presentation. Something inherent in this space evokes this.

Why? I don’t know. Ryanhood wouldn’t know. The audience doesn’t know, either. Perhaps it is because Rivier College is a bit off the beaten path (only locals know it exists); maybe its calm and quiet atmosphere lends an air of serenity apt for innovation and experimentation. Whatever it is, there is something about Ryanhood and this Guild Hall Main Lounge that work well together.

I had heard Ryanhood perform their medley of Simon & Garfunkel’s “Mrs. Robinson” and Outkast’s “Ms. Jackson” during their 2004-2005 phase, and it was just that— a combination of the two separate songs. At Rivier (in November 2005), however, the combination morphed into a mixture akin to a jumble. It was fascinating; it was also the first time I heard Ryanhood play the medley in this manner. It is actually something they have been doing since their inception. If the mood struck and the audience was with them, Ryanhood would “mash” multiple songs together seamlessly. But, their repertoire consisted of two iron-clad medley’s, the aforementioned “Robinson/Jackson” and “Some Great Heights”/”The Middle” from The Postal Service and Jimmy Eat world. These days they are mash-ups instead, and audiences like them that way. The Rivier crowd really liked the “Heights”/”Middle” mash this evening.

The show itself was hardly a radical departure from Ryanhood’s typical presentation. It began with “Can I Kiss You,” “Around the Sun,” and continued with “Stopless” and “Nothing but the Real Thing.” Then the unusual began to occur. At this point, someone in the audience wanted to hear “Roads” from the Forward CD. Ryanhood complied with the request. It’s a song that Ryanhood hasn’t tended to play a lot in the Northeast region, but it sure sounded refreshing to hear.

“Such Great Heights”/”The Middle”—the mash-up version—came next, followed by “Show You Love” and the all new incarnation of Cameron’s already classic “Helpless Hopeless.” The audience was informed that the song has been revised and amended for inclusion on Ryanhood’s forthcoming CD, and it takes on a whole new personality. By no means is it an “improved” version; the original was great and didn’t need it. The revamped version is merely different.

An especially serene rendition of “Born to Run to You” followed, and yet it was extremely powerful in impact. “Gardens and the Graves” and “Alright” came next. If the show had ended at this point, then it would have been just another standard high-quality Ryanhood performance—and I would have declared the “Heights”/”Middle” mash the evening’s show stopper and “Born” as the show’s reflective moment.

Then came the… well, I won’t call it Divine Intervention, even though Rivier College is a Roman Catholic school. Some symbiotic forces converged, from wherever, to really make this event memorable.

Someone called out for “Army.” A person, in fact, closer (somewhat) to my age; it turns out that his son saw Ryanhood perform at Boston’s Faneuil Hall/Quincy Market, and has been a devoted fan since. Father and son sojourned together to this event. The father is a Ryanhood fan himself. Apparently “Army” is one of his favorites. He certainly wasn’t disappointed with the spirited interpretation that followed, complete with a fantastic Ryan Green solo in the middle section.

Then… someone wanted to hear “Rosemary.” “Rosemary.” Unless one has been following Ryanhood for a long time, the song title itself may not be familiar. You won’t find it on the two studio CDs, and not on the two live CDs either. And they don’t play it anymore, or at least haven’t for some time. Cameron told the Rivier audience that they hadn’t done it in a year; the last time I heard them play it was on September 3, 2004, when they debuted at Cambridge, MA’s Club Passim. This evening, however, Ryan and Cameron threw caution to the wind and decided to perform it for the Rivier attendees.

“Rosemary” is both a song and a story. Ryan and Cameron harmonize, beautifully, about someone named Rosemary and something about roses being in bloom. There are numinous and exquisite guitar phrasings from Ryan that ONLY HE CAN PLAY. There is also the story; told by Cameron, about Cameron, whilst Ryan vamps in the background. The story itself never changes, but the way Cameron tells it does. I won’t divulge what the song is about, only that it has to do with a man and woman relationship and what makes that relationship work and how to tell that it does.

Ryanhood attempted to record “Rosemary” way back when, but (according to them) it just didn’t lend itself to the studio environment. “Rosemary” is a stage song that needs a live audience. The live audience doesn’t participate other than to hear the story, but they need to be present. Cameron has something to say over and beyond the song itself, and he needs living, breathing human beings before him in order to do this.

“Rosemary” never failed to totally captivate audiences (even passers-by) during the 2004 Summer Street Performer’s Festival at Boston’s Faneuil Hall. There was something in that song for everyone; great singing, terrific music, masterful guitar playing, and a heartfelt anecdote.

So what happened to “Rosemary?” Well, the song evolved into something a lot longer than it was initially. Cameron never tells the story about Rosemary the same way, and eventually he appended the song’s message to the extent that it became a magnum opus. I’ve heard it go on for more than 10 minutes, which is not congruent with Ryanhood’s shorter song format. The last time I heard them play it (at Passim) they truncated it back to its original time out of necessity—their apportioned set at Passim’s Annual Campfire Festival was just 40-minutes in length. (Those at Passim, incidentally, were enthusiastically receptive to the song.)

“Rosemary” and her story came back to life in vigorous fashion. The song was a spirit and energy lifter at once. Its vitality perpetuated into the penultimate “Sad and Happiness” and onto and throughout the closing “Welcome You Into My Head.”

There was yet another surprise in store, but only a few people shared in it. Ryanhood has some very devoted followers who reside in a New Hampshire town north of Rivier College and were in attendance. For them exclusively, post-show, Ryan and Cameron performed an impromptu, unplugged version of “Ivy.” (See photos below.)

Finally... it's certainly not a fact that matters, but simply a trivial matter of fact. Cameron discovered that the students in New Hampshire consider themselves to be "New Hampshire-ites" as opposed to "New Hampshireans," as he suggested. It's probably easier for them to pronounce it that way. How unfortunate that their state ends in a vowel as oposed to a hard consonant so as to simply proclaim oneself as a Vermont-er or the like. Students sure do feel passionately about such matters.

David-D[ionne]