The Scene: Free Live Music in San Francisco

The Lowdown

Who: The Mission Three
When: November 19, 2009
Where: Revolution Cafe
Hidden Costs: Artists “pass the hat” to accept tips/donations

The Take-Away

Venue: See this review I did about a month ago. Additionally, you’ll be glad to know that, as the weather gets colder, the cafe has these awesome heaters that are suspended from the patio’s overhang. These heaters not only keep the patio nice and toasty, but generate some residual warmth for the interior, as well — yay, heaters! — which means that you don’t have to sit all bundled up in your full regalia in order to keep warm while enjoying both your libations and the show.

Artist: The Mission Three are truly a local treasure, full of catchy tunes, groan-inducing jokes, and kick-ass musicianship. Check out their MySpace site for updates and touring dates. As for upcoming shows in San Francisco, you can find them at the Mojo Bicycle Cafe on December 7th and 21st and January 18th; back at the Revolution Cafe on December 17th and January 16th; and at Ireland’s 32 on December 27th. For the better part of January, the band will be on a Southwest Tour of Nevada and Arizona. (Again, see their site for more info).

The Review

On November 19th, I had the pleasure of seeing The Mission Three perform at the Revolution Cafe, which is a venue that I have previously reviewed.

The following is a little blurb that I excerpted from the group’s MySpace site:

The Mission Three consist of three San Francisco Musicians that reside in the Mission District. They tour and play with tons of local musicians but when they get together the stars align!!

Misisipi Mike Wolf — guitar and vocals. He hails from Mississippi and has been here in the bay area for 10 years

Cree Rider — guitar and vocals. He hails from St. Louis and has been here in the bay area for 4 years

Jimmy Sweetwater — washboard, harmonica and vocals. He hails from the swamps of Florida and has been in the bay area for 20 years

As for my experience with The Mission Three…well, put simply, it was everything I was hoping it would be! I came to this show looking for good roots music with a solid blues foundation, colored with a playful sense of humor, and this is precisely what the group brings to the table. Add to that musicianship that is neither self-conscious nor pretentious (as can all-too-easily be the case), and you’ve got yourself an evening of foot-stompin’, grin-inducin’, whisky-swiggin’ glee.

The guys kicked things off with “Ramblin’ On My Mind,” a blues-flavored rockin’ tune featuring a wailing harmonica (Jimmy Sweetwater) and vocals (Cree Rider) that make you feel like you’ve climbed into the singer’s restless soul.

One note on Jimmy’s harmonica playing: unlike so many harp players, Jimmy is able to phrase a musical line with the harmonica without overindulging in frilly arpeggios and needless riffs. He really understands the instrument, using its unique timbre to paint a picture, so that it becomes a true vessel of storytelling, rather than just some cool trick that the Percussion Guy can do. And at one point during the show, Jimmy broke out his self-proclaimed “Fun Machine,” a seemingly homemade contraption comprised of a Fender washboard fitted with various acoustic happy-making accoutrement, including a bicycle bell and a tambourine.

Similarly, when Cree sings, you’re getting more than a lyrical yet layered tenor voice. Cree believes the words he’s singing, and nowhere was this more evident than when he sang lead on a gorgeous cover of The Band’s ”King Harvest (Has Surely Come).” As I listened to Cree tell the story of this poor farmer on the verge of losing everything, I could almost see that man standing right before me. I could hear the wind through the grain, feel the heat of the southern August sun. It was some powerful storytelling.

And talk about a sweet lead guitar! Misisipi Mike seamlessly transitions from supporting rhythm player to chorused lead guitarist, deftly picking out runs up and down the scale as his left hand does a ballet over the fretboard. No buzzing notes here, kids! And, much like Jimmy on the harmonica, Misisipi Mike’s phrasing is eloquent without being self-important. He’s a joy to watch, making impeccable picking seem effortless.

The thing that’s so great about The Mission Three is that there is a consistency to the music, regardless of the theme or the genre of origin. Whether it be “Whisky Warm and Mellow,” a playful jaunty sing-along type of tune that Jimmy claims is a favorite of George Clooney’s, or a kick-ass cover of The Kink’s “Sunny Afternoon,” The Mission Three deliver a performance that is cohesive and has a good flow. You never get burnt out on a particular hook or tempo; these guys craft a set with care and thoughtfulness, giving the listener a superlative live music experience.

Perhaps just as importantly, the members of the band don’t try to complicate their respective roles, which I believe allows them to really refine their particular skill sets so as to best contribute to the band’s signature playful and heartfelt style. All three take turns on lead vocals, in an almost round-robin kind of way. Misisipi Mike Wolf plays a steel string electric acoustic lead guitar; Cree Rider plays a nylon string electric acoustic guitar; and Jimmy Sweetwater plays the harmonica and the Fun Machine.

In the end, though, these guys love the music they’re playing, and get their whole bodies into their performance, literally shaking the floorboards with their foot stomping, swaying to the tempo, leaning into the lyrics. You get the feeling that you’re hanging out with your friends you grew up with on the front porch of your auntie’s country home, and these friends just happen to be exceptional musicians with a nearly encyclopedic knowledge of roots music. Throw in a little Southern Rock with almost a funk flavor, maybe some Folk Pop, and the odd Django Reinhardt jazz-influenced guitar hook, and you’ve got yourself an evening of music worth coming out in the cold for.

The Mission Three will be performing four more dates before the end of this year, and have a few dates in January already scheduled. At that point, they will begin a mini Southwest tour, and will also be hitting Louisiana and Washington State, but will return to the city shortly thereafter. They also will be recording their second album in January; the first one is available for $10 at any live show.

The Lowdown

Who: Sang Matiz
When: November 11, 2009
Where: The Union Room at Biscuit and Blues
Hidden Costs: As a little reminder, this was November’s “Not Quite Free” show, so there was a cover ($5). More importantly, though, you should know that this place ain’t no dive bar! Drinks were a bit on the pricey side for my tastes ($7 for a pint of Prohibition beer, $9 or $10 for most mixed drinks), and the cost of food’s about average for the Union Square area (ranging from $4 for a side o’ slaw to $24 for the Firey Shrimp dinner).

The Take-Away

Venue: Awesome space, with a very hip and trendy ambience, a good sound system, super friendly staff, genial crowd, and unique and delicious food. There’s a wide variety of seating (not all entirely comfortable, though), and you can get up close and personal with the performers, creating almost a house party feel.

Artists: These down-to-earth, lifelong musicians bring a musical style that’s not only upbeat but gets in your bones and makes you dance in your seat. All of the songs are in Spanish, and the musicianship is sublime. The performers are fun, but without any superfluous frills, and obviously love the music they’re playing. If you like to dance, especially if you’re into salsa, these are your peeps!

The Review

So, the first thing you need to know about The Union Room is that it’s in the heart of the Union Square area, which means street parking’s a bitch. Fortunately, The Union Room is also in the heart of the Union Square area. 

Erm, my bad; I said that already.

O.K., but there’s a reason I’m saying it twice:

There’s LOTS of public transportation around! You gotcher MUNI, your BART, your SamTrans, your Golden Gate Transit, and your AC Transit. In other words, F**K parking! You don’t need it. (But, y’know, in case you do, there’s also a lot of parking garages around the area, and the very nice Cover Fee Collecting Lady at the venue will give you a little ticket for something like $5 off of your parking fees if you go to the O’Farrell/Mason Parking Garage.)

Second, there is only one entrance for the two venues here. Biscuit and Blues is located down the stairs once you enter the main door. The Union Room is located at the top of the stairs. Know now, however, that in order to see a show upstairs in the Union Room you must first go slightly Downstairs to the ticket counter and pay your cover fee and get your wrist stamped (a lovely little ivy vine on this particular night; classy, girly — just my kind of club stamp).

For the Sang Matiz show, I actually had my best friend come along with me, just to get a second pair of eyes and ears. Having paid our respective $5 covers, we headed upstairs.

At first blush, the place was cozy and inviting. The ceilings were high-ish, but not cathedral or anything like that, and the lighting was sparse, mostly in low-watt warm tones, and supported by tea candles in clear glass votive holders on every table. The ambience was simple and metropolitan in flavor, and while my cohort and I only interacted with one staff member, he was funny and attentive and ably guided us through the process of choosing what to order.

Which brings me to the menu. For the ‘hood, the food is very reasonably priced. The Union Room offers a full menu, from appetizers to salads to full entrees to desserts. Prices range from about $4 for a side of cole slaw to $24 for the Firey (misspelling intentional) Shrimp.  The kitchen stays open ’til 9 p.m. on weekdays and ’til 10:30 p.m. on Fridays and Saturdays, and the bar’s open ’til 11 p.m. on weekdays and ’til 11:45 p.m. on Fridays and Saturdays.

My biggest money-related complaint, though, was about the drinks. A pint of Speakeasy’s Prohibition Ale was $7, and most of the mixed drinks were somewhere between $9 and $10. Don’t get me wrong; the drinks were seriously yummy! And, again, for the area, these are reasonable rates. But it only underscores the fact that this isn’t exactly a dive bar, if you catch my drift; expect to shell out some coin.

The actual decor of the place is contemporary, like something you’d find in a loft apartment, with a variety of seating and tables. There are high-backed stools surrounding tall cocktail tables, two-top square cafe tables, one long family-style table smack dab in the center of the room, and off to one side was a more loungey seating area, complete with leather-covered ottoman-looking cube seats and a low glass table. Plus, there was a small L-shaped bar in the back with plenty of bar stools lining it for those who may want to stay close to the liquor. The colors were mostly warm reds and dark blues, with some caramel-colored wood tones — as I said, very loft-esque, very cozy, very trendy.

The staff at the venue was friendly and witty, cracking jokes, helping me and my friend decide what to drink or eat. And beyond being charming, they were attentive without being obnoxious. As for the audience members, well, the place wasn’t exactly packed (other than us, there were two other tables with people at them, and then a constant rotation of about ten or twelve jovial imbibers at the bar). Still, I think it was a good crowd for a Wednesday night in the heart of downtown San Francisco. I mean, let’s be honest: most folks who find themselves in that area at that time of night are usually on their way to see a play, or are lawyers or traders who are running out the door to get home after putting in a sixteen hour day of work. So, a dozen or so live music fans is a good draw, especially for a latin fusion band in a place known for blues music.

But enough about the venue. Let’s talk about the show!

Here’s the thing you ought to know about Sang Matiz: these people are Musicians, with a captial “M”!  I swear to God, when Yuri — the band’s primary songwriter, lead vocalist, and rhythm guitarist — is strummin’ her electric acoustic, her hands are moving in a way that defies the laws of physics. I mean, they’re a freakin’ blur! And then you add to the mix Eddie on lead guitar — and keep in mind, this guy’s only been playing flamenco for about three years, now — and you’ve got not just latin fusion, but latin magic! 

Yuri and Cata, the other only female member of the band who also plays a little hand-held percussion and provides backing vocals, have perfected the art of matching timbre and tone. I know, I know, some of you singers out there may be saying to yourselves that those are kind of the same thing, but trust me, in this instance, they’re two distinct elements. These women match each other vowel for vowel, mouth shape for mouth shape, resonating chamber for resonating chamber. It’s like listening to identical twin sisters who’ve been singing together since before they could speak in full sentences.

Add to the mix a bassist who is literally moved by the music, a conga player who looks and plays like he’s a character straight out of the dancing streets of Havana, and a drummer who somehow manages to play a fully set-up kit practically on top of the other musicians without overpowering them, and you can see why the owners of this fledgeling venue are so enthusiastic about having Sang Matiz in the house.

The band is a well-oiled machine with a small but enthusiastic and vocal following! And these musicians are having so much fun with each other, dancing around, feet non-stop tapping to the rhythms, cradling their instruments to them like niños preciosos, heads nodding enthusiastically. It’s a family affair; it’s a neighborhood block party; it’s an impromptu jam session; it’s a barn dance. My one very minor complaint is that they played virtually no ballads, and with these women’s voices, they’re just begging for one!

Bottom line is this: if you love latin rhythms and music, and you love to dance and just let everything bad wash away before the rich harmonies and intricate finger picking styles of a beautiful flamenco guitar, then you have got to see these guys play! There’s so much more I could write, so many more notes I took over the course of the evening, but honestly, this is all you really need to know.

Sang Matiz will be playing again at The Union Room on Friday, November 20, 2009. The cover will still be only $5 — go see them!

The Lowdown

Who: Judea Eden Band
When: October 23, 2009
Where: Dolores Park Cafe
Hidden Costs: “Suggested” donation at door on a sliding scale of $8 — $10

The Take-Away

Venue: This venue was very well-kept and clean, featuring reasonably priced eats, coffee/espresso-based drinks, beer, and wine. Plus, they serve breakfast all day — my kind of cafe! The staff was busy but friendly, and the sound system was good. No weird dress code to worry about, and the place had a good, upbeat crowd. Plus, it’s literally right across the street from Dolores Park, and would be perfect for people-watching. All-in-all, I’d come to this place just to hang and drink coffee, even if there wasn’t live music.

Artists: Bottom line is that this band knows how to have fun! They’ll give you some good old-fashioned growling, rock-chick-driven rock ‘n’ roll. But perhaps most importantly, they have a great chemistry and obviously love to play together, which makes it feel like you’re in on something special. If you’re down for some straight up, bop-in-your-seat-’til-you-have-to-get-up-and-dance music, go see this band.

The Review

The first thing I thought to myself when I pulled up to the corner of 18th and Dolores Streets was, “Oh, shit! Where the hell am I gonna park?” I drove around for at least a good 20 minutes, determined to stay within a two-block radius in a neighborhood pretty widely known for its abysmal parking situation. But, being a woman of great determination, and a believer in wishful thinking, I persisted — which eventually paid off (got a spot kitty-corner to the cafe).

All of that being said, I do NOT recommend that you use my methodology. One, it’s completely unreliable. Two, it’s really not at all difficult to find public transportation to this particular corner of the city. There’s like a gazillion buses that go through there, not to mention MUNI railcars.

As I walked to the front door of the cafe, small cliques of women were lined up outside the cafe’s giant picture windows, chatting and flirting with each other, having a perfect Friday Unwind, and interspersed with the occasional straight couple. Everyone outside was laughing and/or deep in conversation; but inside, the crowd was caught up in the gorgeous harmonies and tight guitar hooks spilling forth from Bittersweet (an all-women folk rock trio whose members also play with the Judea Eden Band, including Judea Eden herself). After paying my suggested donation of $10 to go hear the music, I started to look around the place to see what I could see. (And, by the way, the word “suggested” is largely a euphemism. It’s pretty clear that anyone that came there to hear music was expected to donate something, preferably somewhere in the $8 to $10 range. When I asked point blank, I was told, yes, technically the show was free, but…y’know…)

 The Dolores Park Cafe was a lovely contemporary cafe that was very well kept and well lit without being overly bright (i.e. you could see what was going on but didn’t feel like everyone was staring at you as you watched the show). The ceilings were nice and high, giving an otherwise intimate space a feeling of expansive openess. On display along the walls were pieces of local art for sale (on this particular night there were close-up photographs of everyday items such as typewriter keys, crayons, nails, etc., with tiny little “men at work” figures on them). The seating in the audience area was largely family style, with long tables set out with chairs placed alongside, facing the stage area.

I decided that I’d get myself something to drink, and maybe try something to eat. I looked to my left at the busy staff behind the U-shaped counter, looking to see where the menus were. Hmm…not there, no…not there, either…hm, not there…where the hell are the menus? I noticed that there was a chalkboard to the right of where you were supposed to order, but in the dim light, I couldn’t tell if this was the menu. After much squinting and tilting of my head, I realized that it was pretty much a list of drinks (i.e. coffee drinks), and not a full menu.

Weird.

Oh, well.

(Oh, by the way, I did eventually find the menu — that’s right, “menu,” singular. There was a giant sign mounted to one wall on the 18th Street side of the cafe which had the full listing of items, ranging from coffee/espresso-based beverages to a variety of salads and sandwiches. The placement of the menu was sorta counterintuitive, if you ask me, but not really an issue, aside from the fact that now I won’t get to tell you anything about the food ’cause I didn’t see it ’til I was leaving.)

I gave up the hunt, and since I hadn’t really seen any empty chairs in the main seating area, I decided to grab a stool at the end of the counter from which I could see the band performing on the opposite side of the cafe. Now, I know this may sound like it was a crappy place to be sitting for a music show, but honestly, the way the place was laid out, the fact that it wasn’t huge, and the quality sound system made the placement of my seat choice a non-issue: I could see and hear everything.

One of the super busy staff members took the time to head over my way and ask me if I wanted anything — which I did — so I got one of the four beers they offered (a Fat Tire, $4) and settled in for the start of the Judea Eden Band’s set.

The band itself was fully fleshed out. They had a keyboard player, who also sang back-up; a rhythm guitarist; a bass guitarist; a lead guitarist; a drummer who used this cool standing drum kit; a back-up/lead vocalist; and, of course, frontperson and lead vocalist Judea Eden herself, who also played some electric acoustic guitar.

So, what, you may ask, was the Judea Eden Band experience like? In a word: Rock! This band was all about feel-good and thought-provoking rock ‘n’ roll. Their originals were personal and ran the gamut from down-in-the-ground dirty (“All Sexed Up”) to heartbreakingly melodic (“Wayside”). And, to top it all off, their covers were amazing and powerful (“Rock and Roll” by Led Zeppelin; “Sweet Emotion” by Aerosmith). And did I mention that all of the vocals were done by women? Talk about kicking ass!

But the best thing about seeing this band was that they obviously LOVED playing together! They knew each other so well and were so good at listening to each other that, regardless of the song or tempo or style, they would just Bring It (to coin an overfranchised phrase). The women’s vocals and harmonies were gorgeous and tight, and in perfect balance, and their musicianship was unparalleled. Judea Eden brought her kick-ass, Linda Perry vocal stylings into the mix, combined with a genuine sense of playfulness and humor, alternatingly poignant and impish.

And the men definitely held their own amongst the superlative women musicians: The bass player was a funkmaster, bringing a swinging joyfulness to the overall sound. The drummer was amazing, accurate, steady, and borderline acrobatic in his full-body playing style. The lead guitarist was agile on the fretboard, and had this sick wah-wah going on “All Sexed Up”; it was almost “Shaft”-esque, although his volume levels could’ve stood to be brought up just a little bit when he soloed.

Bottom line? The whole band was comprised of impeccable musicians who melded together in a tight-knit fashion that showcased the music in a fun and unassuming way. And the crowd loved them, getting up out of their seats and dancing, clapping along, whooping and hollering, ear-to-ear grins splayed across their collective faces. (Hm, yeah, all right, I may have been one of those people.)

The Lowdown

Who: Tippy Canoe, Rick Quisol, Terese Taylor, Misisipi Mike
When: October 20, 2009
Where: Revolution Cafe, 3248 22nd Street, SanFrancisco, CA
Hidden Costs: Artists “pass the hat” to accept tips/donations

The Take-Away

Venue: Good for a hang out, but probably not so much so if you’re serious about having a pure music experience. Go there and get yummy coffee (the guacamole’s not half bad, either) or a pint of Chimay Red on tap. Discuss the state of the world with recent college grads and/or bona fide beatniks. Get immersed in a true neighborhood dive in a one-of-a-kind city. But don’t come for the great sound system, ’cause it ain’t there.

Artists: If you’re feeling dark or moody, seek out Terese; she’ll put it all in perspective for you. But try to catch her with a full set-up; her songs will pack more punch that way. If you want a sweet sort of American Legion/USO experience, seek out Tippy; she’ll charm you and take you back to a time when lyrics were straightforward and sing-alongs were encouraged. If you want a luscious male crooner and you know who The Velvet Fog was, seek out Rick; he’ll sweep you off your feet, and do it with a kicky cap and playful persona. And if you want your songs served neat with a dash of homespun insight and impeccable fingerpicking, seek out Misisipi Mike; he’s fun, sassy, and an amazing guitar player. Seriously. Go see him. Now.

The Review

The Revolution Cafe is a quintessential San Francisco kind of place. It’s a little divey, a little hipster, with a whole lotta coffee and a whole lotta beer. The crowd is a mixture of early twenty-something’s discussing how the art of conversation is dead (actual quote from the table next to me: “We just had a meaningful discussion about small talk!”) and aging revolutionaries still taking hits off an old glass pipe on the front patio, cupping their hands over the bowl to shield it from the occasional nor’wester.

(Reminds me of a joke my dad used to tell. Ready? Here it goes: What’s a pot smoker’s favorite body part? “‘Ere!” Get it? I know; it loses something when it’s written out. Go back, read it to yourself out loud, and then maybe you’ll laugh. If not, blame my dad; he can take it. Or, if you still don’t get it, then lemme say this: “‘Ere” sounds just like “ear.” Get it now? But I digress…)

The cafe is sort of a not-so-secret local gem, and even though everyone seems to know that it’s there, the place does its damnedest to remain as anonymous as possible. There is nary a sign bearing the name of the establishment, only a vibrant mural along the length of one side of the building announcing in block letters, “REVOLUTION.”

The interior is just what you’d expect, which is to say that the combination of worn and scarred wooden floors and furniture with heavily shaded pendant lamps just barely leaking any kind of illumination gives the small room a decidedly speakeasy feeling. It’s very dark. Very. Dark. But not only is this place a cafe and a live music venue and a perfect neighborhood dive bar (beer and wine only, folks), it’s also an art gallery. Yep, that’s right! The walls display works from local artists on a rotating basis, and on this particular night, the gallery featured beautifully captured full-color photographs of weather-worn doorways and building fronts.

I knew immediately I was going to like this place.

Oh, one little caveat for those of you who are smoke-averse/sensitive: in order to even enter the establishment, you gotta wade through the front patio area, which is where all of the smokers (tobacco, pot, what-have-you) are sitting. Also, you should know that, because the doors are left wide open during business hours, some smoke will inevitably come into the cafe itself. Just a heads-up.

I walked up to the bar/service counter where the one lone staff member stood facing full-front to cater to the varied wants and needs of her motley patrons. The back wall above the counter was covered in a panoply of dry-erase boards listing the various vittles and libations offered up. I horned in immediately on the Stella Artois ($4.50 for a bottle) and house guacamole and chips ($5 for a serving that could comfortably feed two; this was my dinner, though, so I ate it all by my little lonesome).

Service-with-a-smile and goodies in hand, I was fortunate enough to find a table in the back, and by “back,” I mean about twenty feet from the stage, and by “stage,” I mean the left-hand six-feet-square corner of floor where a lone speaker stood raised above the musicians’ stools and mics. (Did I mention yet that the place is intimate? ‘Cause it is. Seriously. Get there early.)

I watched the musicians tune their instruments, leaning in towards each other to ear-in, checking their connections to the mix board, smiling and laughing with each other. And I quickly realized that each of them had styled themselves in the genre of music they professed to play:

Terese Taylor (Experimental/Black Metal/Folk Rock) wore all black; Misisipi Mike (Folk/Indie/Country) wore a logo T-shirt, khakis, and a fedora; Tippy Canoe (Roots Music/Melodramatic Popular Song/Pop) wore a be-ribboned black beret and a full-length sweater coat; and Rick Quisol (“The Dimestore Dandy”) wore slacks, a golf cap, and a light blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

The evening’s show was presented in a round robin format. Each artist took a turn playing a song of their choice, calling out the key signature so the others could jump in, should they wish to do so. Both Tippy Canoe and Rick Quisol featured the ukelele in their performances, as well as the occasional washboard percussion section, while Misisipi Mike and Terese Taylor played six-string electric acoustic guitars.

Terese Taylor started off the evening. If you’re an emo kind of person or like to howl at the moon, this artist is for you! Her songs tended to be darker and more introspective, sort of angsty and heady all at once. As a vocalist, she had a lyrical soprano voice that she projected through a tight jaw, all the while keeping a piece of chewing gum in her mouth. (Fascinating!) And she didn’t sing with any vibrato; it was just a straight, poignant, clear voice reaching out across the room and taking you by the shoulders (if that makes any sense). Instrumentally, she was a very agile guitarist, deftly moving from one chord to the next. Her strumming style indicated that at some point she probably had classical guitar training (we learned the same technique in a beginning classical guitar class I started to take out at City College…twice…). And she seemed to like to play with time signatures and tempos, which made her compositions interesting and attention-grabbing. But, boy, did this woman love her distortion pedal! She’d be toolin’ along, strummin’ away her broken and/or disillusioned heart, and all of a sudden — BAM! DISTORTION! No more acoustic ambient guitar! The effect was jarring and much too loud for that particular venue. And, having previously listened to the songs available on her Web site, I can honestly say that if she had been playing those same songs with her full band, the use of the distortion effect would not have been an issue. As it was, however, the result was odd and awkward. But, all of that aside, I largely enjoyed her music. (I guess I’m one of those angsty types; plus, the girl can seriously play the guitar!) By far the best song she did was “Sweet,” which was a lovely waltz that sat lower in her vocal range and was slightly reminiscent of Sheryl Crow’s “Globe Sessions” album. Beautiful, haunting, a masterwork.

Next up was Misisipi Mike, who was actually from Mississippi (originally), but now apparently lives just about a block away from the Revolution Cafe (he told us so; mustn’t be too much of a secret). His music was largely upbeat and folky, with catchy guitar hooks and lyrics chock-full o’ washerwoman wisdom (e.g. “When life gives you lemons…”). The best part for me? This guy was apparently quite fond of his libations! He often referenced drinking, and sang longingly when he covered Evelynn Rose’s “Whiskey Woman.” His style was folk rock-meets-southern rock, and it sat well with him. He was a sort of quintessential singer/songwriter, with impeccable guitar technique and an expressive voice. He was easily the best technical player of the evening, and ably worked into most of the others’ performances, adding a lead guitar line into the instrumental breaks with virtually no fumbling, as though he’d rehearsed the licks ahead of time. Lyrically, his selections ran the gamut from nostalgic (“Lonely Old House on Memory Lane”) to impish (“Louisiana Livin’ and I’m Gettin’ Fat”). His fingerpicking style was nimble, and reminded me of Iron and Wine. I loved this guy. I wanted to be his next door neighbor and sit with him on his front porch drinking beer at dusk…often.

He was followed by Tippy Canoe, the Lovely Lady of the Ukelele. Tippy had a strong, clear high alto voice whose dynamic ebbed and flowed in a rhythmic fashion that reminded me of a pond’s rippling water lapping at the side of a rowboat. She showed herself to be a fan of doo-wop era music, both the upbeat and the balladic. She, too, sang with a straight tone, which at times proved to be problematic for her because she would occasionally get off pitch. She also seemed to play largely by feel, which made it a little difficult for the other musicians to jam with her, because sometimes she would get ahead of herself and not complete a phrase. Also, at that particular venue, she really needed to be more articulate; many of the patrons were not there to listen to the music, and the constant low roar of conversation and partially obstructed view (a lot of SRO audience members) made it difficult to understand the lyrics she was singing. But she by far had the most interaction with the audience, checking in to see if they were having fun, asking about sound levels — that kind of thing. And she was absolutely charming and coquettish and straight-up adorable, which is probably why she was the one who came around the room to “pass the hat” (i.e. solicit tips/donations from the audience). She handled what could have been an awkward moment in a very charming and playful way, making it even more likely that audience members would be amenable to coughing up money.

And, finally, there was Rick Quisol. He also played the ukelele, the washboard, and almost always donned this contraption where he had a kazoo mounted inside an empty tin can (which I can only presume served to focus the sound forward so that it would be picked up by his microphone). The moment Rick opened his mouth, I was entranced. His voice was beyond lyrical; it was like sinking into a warm bath scented with honey and lavender. He was definitely of the old jazz crooner ilk. Listening to him almost reminded me of Mel Torme. His vocal technique was superior, allowing him to be expressive: he was able to phrase his songs in a way that really illustrated the story each song was trying to convey. And he seemed to have the best inherent musicianship of the bunch. When he wasn’t killing you softly, he was making you giggle with his cover of “Knock Three Times.” (Yes, that “Knock Three Times,” as in, “…on the ceiling if you want me.”) At one point, he asked for a volunteer to play the maracas on one of his songs, but, alas, the room was not game. (As a side note, Rick is the bandleader of The Frisky Frolics, who sadly do not appear to have scheduled any shows in San Francisco — free or otherwise — any time soon. But keep an eye out; this guy’s worth your time and money!)