Neal Casal/Kenny Roby - Louisiana Bar, Bristol, Thursday, 15th April, 1999
'Lay down your head and fly'
Bristol pictures by Susan Cane
Still to come tons of pictures by Andrea Platt (at The Pit and the Spitz)

'The dirtier the town,' says Billy Connolly, 'the better the audience.' Neal Casal and Kenny Roby opened their UK tour here last night. They fell right into a heaving metropolis. Teenage girls brave the cold in bare midriffs and skimpy dresses. Every pound a pint bar has a bent nosed bouncer. Try as Bristol might to be upmarket sophisticate it will never shake out the image conjured up by Robert Louis Stevenson in Treasure Island. Bristol's still a dirty old town.
The Louisiana Bar is tucked south of Bristol's heart of Saturday night, close to the river. It is a bar like many others a haven for visiting acoustic musicians. Downstairs a pub with food, Casals says from the stage that owner, chef, egg cook and bottlewasher Giovanni has 'cooked us the best meal I have ever had before a gig'. Musician's, as we know march on their stomachs. Tonight if the food fired music as good as this, then they ought to take that Giovanni on tour.
Kenny Roby kicked it off with a solo set. Roby's a big guy, lots of heart, songs full of stop go, pause, stop, bam, go, with tons of offbeat humour. Simple and effective. Most of the songs came from Roby's Glitterhouse album Mercury's Blues. Play loud and dance a lot. Pared down to bare boards you can sense where the instruments fit. Roby is the joker taking the piss out of the Lousianna's advert for 'Nial Castle'. It is clear that he and Casal are going to have a pile of fun on Roby's first visit to the United Kingdom.
He is struck by how attentive the audience are compared to some in the States. More used to playing for drunken rednecks (Roby himself from North Carolina laughingly calls himself a redneck). 'I was in New Jersey playing this bar recently and we had one of those women, you know, teeth out, squawwwwwwwwwwwwwwk, sqawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwk all night.' This may be a beery crowd but they came to listen. And Roby is clearly appreciative of that.
He shares tons of asides with the audience, tonque always firmly in his cheek. One song he reckons may stop him being let back into the States. It concerns a politician from Arkansas and he titles it 'Uncle Bill'. The tone is reflective but the tonque is sharp.

Five songs in the TVZ appreciation kicks in. Roby just calls 'This is dedicated to Townes Van Zandt' and rolls through a reflective rocker whose opening lines say a lot about the highway kind:

'The mirror's laughin' at you
You don't consider him your friend
He can see the weather on you
But he'll never feel the wind'
- Blow Wind Blow from Mercury's Blues

The first indication of where the chemistry between Neal Casal and Kenny Roby is going to fly comes when Roby invites Casals up for one number. Aside from the piss taking, it is clear that the two have a respect for each other that goes deep. I don't recall what the song was that they duetted on but you had the big hands of Roby ripping up the chords out of his guitar and Casals playing more of that deceptive sublime style that knocks me flat over. Their harmonies went right down the spine.
Casals left the stage again and Roby finished off with a number before giving the crowd who were shouting for an encore just one more song. Or a verse of one. A short country song, tonque in cheek set to a strident Nashvegas downbeat. Good set enjoyed his offbeat humour and gutsy songs.
Kenny Roby's set list: Mercury's Blues, Book of Time, Why Can't I Be Like You, In A Dress, Blow Wind Blow, Jesus Tambourine, Early Morning Blues, Ace, My Radio & Baseball, In This Town, Clayton, Elaine, Just Another. Also one for his president 'Uncle Bill'.
If with Roby the songs are the framework for more layers, Neal Casal with just an acoustic guitar is the complete picture. This is guy is a man bloody orchestra. He just breathes music when he sits there in front of you. His guitar work is so subtle and so perfect for that voice, a voice that just teems with spirit. 'Depression, yeah I got that covered', he joked last night from the stage. Haunted, floating, magical and a sense of putdown inherient in musicians as opposed to rock stars.
Ha rock stars, those bloated, string of untalented goofs don't hold a candle to what Casals can do with just a guitar and his voice. Probably in a hundred years time someone will ask the same question now being asked of Nick Drake. Why wasn't this guy huge. Simple answer he is. Because last night, upstairs in the Louisana bar the place was jammed around the stage with folks who came to listen, plus the odd loud pisshead and the CD stall was working overload.
Neal Casals opened with the familiar Today I'm Gonna Bleed, don't say I care that much for the recorded version but I love to hear this pared down to the foundations. The next few songs, I think, come from his latest Glitterhouse recording Basement Dreams: Real Country Dark, No One Said A Word, Freemont Row (and something that began 'It seems so hard . . .'). In between these songs Casals would come up with asides like when he told of getting together in New Jersey with Roby to 'smoke, drink whiskey and play guitar, I meant to say to him that woman at the back of bar he mentioned well Kenny that was my Aunt Natalie . . .'
The set then went back to his first album, 'long time ago, 1995', he jokes again. A steaming version of Cincinnati Motel which is sings with an itensity that warms the room. After that he chills us with a delicate song called Delaware Station. In between he jokes that the front rows of people remind him of 'how the Fillmore must have been'.
More early songs now, Maybe California from that 1995 album, a stunning poetic song about suicide which starts with the line 'Today someone died' and two requests from the audience. Virginia Dare and Before the Flood. None of Casals stuff seems to be painted by numbers rather he will call for requests then work out how the song went. So during one song he'll slip into a wrong chord sequence and wince but find his feet again, he always looks like he's searching for chords on the fly the whole time he plays.
He plays Fell on Hard Times, suddenly decides it is time to end. Says thanks and leaves the stage with a roar of applause ringing around him, moves through the crowd to the back of the bar. When he comes back for the encores he has Kenny Roby with him and they give another sample of why you wouldn't want to pass up the opportunity to see these guys when they hit your town.
They are not sure what to play. Roby throws 'TVZ' at Casals and he laughs and says: 'We got the Townes society up here' and they go into one of those songs which you know but don't know the title of. Unmistakably Townes Van Zandt and there's been more than a few people here rooting everytime Townes has been mentioned tonight. When I got more time I'll check my very uncomplete Townes catalogue. I know it has 'Needed You' in the title because I asked Roby after the set last night but as usual forgot it when I got home. It was You Are Not Needed Now.
Whatever it was a beautiful version, the chemistry of Roby and Casal just shone like a keresone lamp on a dark Mississippi night. Such a contrast of styles that perfectly compliment the other. Harmonies just crack on. Roby sings 'Lay down your head and fly' and I'll drink to that. They had both been flying all night.
Just two more songs after that, another killer Casals song called Town Father's written way long ago in Arizona which reminded me so much of Thomas Hart Benton picture that I stood and soaked up all the paint.
Then a bit of cracker to end with. The bar had got noisy the back and Roby and Casal launched into a double act, 'Hey they sound like your Aunt Natalie with their teeth out sqawwwwwwwk, sqawwwwwwwk . . ..' Then they rocked into a suitable ending for a drunken bar. I'm not sure whether it was a Tom T Hall song or one that Roby wrote dedicated to him. Actually it was Tom T. Hall's Ain't Got The Time. Whatever Casals doubled up the twang on this one and pulled his strings around Roby's rollicking, rolling, rendition.
Susan Cane took enough pictures to fill a photo album and me, well it was so damn good, I'm going back tonight for some more. Wahooooo.
Neil Casals set: Today I'm Gonna Bleed, Real Country Dark, No One Said A Word, Freemont Row, Keep the Peace, Cincinnati Motel, Delaware Station, Maybe California, Free Light of Day, Virginia Dare, Before the Flood, Fell on Hard Times. Encore Casal/Roby: You Are Not Needed Now (Townes Van Zandt ), Town fathers, Ain't Got The Time (Tom T. Hall)
Central Hotel, Poole, Friday, April 16th, 1999
Highway Butterfly

Poole is just a suburb of neighbouring seaside town of Bournemouth. Blue rinse suburbia, rows and rows of neat little white bungalows with manicured lawns. Against this tide of ordinary Friday night around the Tv lifestyles is the Central Hotel tonight. Another old English pub that the brewery haven't revamped into some tacky place for designer chic. Downstairs they are having a disco which Neal Casal reckons will be the place to be rather than listening to him play another set.

Hmm maybe but only when they close down all the back bars I can find, and all the singer songwriters have given up the road and headed for a blue rinse retirement. Till then I'll be hanging out in these small havens of sanity.
Tonight I missed the start of Kenny Roby's set. I heard it from the back stairs of the hotel where I was sat eating a big carton of Singapore noodles. Good combination fine noodles stirred with shrimp and chicken and Roby's songs coming through the wall while me and the hotel cat got to know each other. The set came again mostly from Roby's Mercury Blues. There were also songs from Roby's band Six String Drag from an album on E-Squared Records.

Six String Drag from Raleigh, North Carolina are history now and Roby's latest solo is on the German label Glitterhouse. The head honcho from Glitterhouse is here tonight, I can never remember names at the best of times but he's Rheinhart something or other. Lot of respect here for this guy for what he continues to do for obscure American songwriters. It was Glitterhouse who first gave my favourite Albuquerque band Hazeldine a chance before they got signed to Polydor USA. Glitterhouse nailed their colours to Neal Casals mast and the following he is generating here reflects their commitment.

So by the time I finished off my Singapore noodles Roby was into the second half of his set. The bar above the pub downstairs was filling but there was room to sit at the front so I got myself down near the tiny stage. Roby's songs were starting to sink deeper in after an afternoon listening to Mercury Blues.
Another appreciative audience tonight many of whom who had come out to see Neal Casal and were delighted to find a support as talented as Roby too. Guy and a lady who sat down by me during the break had bought three Casal CDs and Roby's Mercury's Blues. Lady was enthralled by his set, like wow where did he come from?
Me to, all the stop go, rocking, easy rolling feel of last night. Once again Casal came up for a song and the harmonies went right through me like a knife. 'Let me just say that even though Neal Casal is sat down, I'm actually taller than him.' Casal joked about the time they had last night. Giovanna got the whiskey bottle down then finished them off in the early hours with the special brew. Such is the fate of touring singer songwriters.
Casal left the stage again for Roby to end his set. One more song and he was asking 'Have I got time for one more? No, Ok thanks for having me' As he awkwardly put down his guitar the audience had other ideas and a few roars and he was picking up the guitar for one last song. The CD stall was doing steady business. I always buy on the road. Cost of a CD on tour is £10. In the shops they are reaching £15. And the artist gets the money straight in their pockets.
After the obligatory break for beer and CDs Neal Casal took the stage. He always chooses to perch on a stool. Tonight his set, is for me, mellow, like he's recovering from that heavy night of drinking but this isn't a criticism because what he played tonight may have had a more reflective edge but it was as equally stunning as last night. Jeez Real Country Dark and Freemont Row are starting to go right into my blood. Songs about dirt roads and being out in the country at nightfall are my kind of places to be. Casal's guitar work through these songs, like his voice, will stun you. I'm reminded of Peter Keane's Tylersville Road (Walkin' Around, Rounder Records), same haunted feel.
Three different songs from last night. Someone at the bar had requested All The Luck In the World so he Casal's played it early. Then Sunday River. All emotive stuff. One that caught me tonight was the first time I heard Highway Butterfly. Casal introduced it thus:
'I only saw Townes Van Zandt once and I came home and wrote this song'
You might have heard a pin drop in the bar, this was as a delicate elegy to the troubled genius of TVZ that I've heard. Once again the touch on the guitar is like gossamer, the voice as clear as a bell on Sunday morning. You are left shaking your head that you only paid 5 quid to be here tonight.
Again Roby and Casal close it tonight with the Tom T. Hall song, Town Fathers (love this song to death), Townes You Are Not Needed Now. Finally before departing the stool, Casal puts down his guitar and sings an acapella song, might be called Give Me An Alibi, who knows, who cares, lets have another dose of this stuff you can't put a price on and if you could bottle it you might have one hell of an elixir. Tonight the Pit in Farnham. Can't wait.
Neal Casal's set: Detroit or Buffalo, All the Luck In The World, Real Country Dark, Freemont Row, Today I'm Gonna Bleed, No One Said A Word, Since I Fell On Hard Times, ?Today gone blind, Sunday River, Highway Butterfly, ?Can you remember the way. Encores with Kenny Roby: Ain't Got The Time (Tom T. Hall), Town Fathers, You Are Not Needed Now, then solo acapella ?Give me an alibi.
Neal Casal/Kenny Roby - The Pit, Crondell, near Farnham, Saturday, 17th April, 1999
'Real Country Dark'
'Well you thought you played 'em all then you come to the Pit' Neal Casal shaking his head. 'When we drove in here I thought we were going to be playing someone's barbecue . . .' My head was shaking too, all the way there, thinking how blown away these two American artists were going to be coming to one of the most obscure venues I have ever had the sheer pleasure to travel to.
Andrea knew the Pit because her boyfriend Andy played one Summer in 'the Pit' a sunken ampitheatre behind this old thatched farmhouse surrounded by trees. At least one of us knew where we were going. We ran through what seemed an endless maze of single track country lanes. Andrea stopping to shoot photographs of the setting sun or stony fields with the odd rook floating over them.
Finally we spied a small sign stuck down by a hedge at a turning in the road. We crawled on as Andrea began to remember where the Farmhouse was. Only the barest of signs finally directed us off the road and down a stone track. Andrea swung the car into the front garden under the trees. A cat came to greet us. Someone opened the front door of the farm cottage and then shut it.
We wandered down to the old door with an ornate circle motif on it. Inside some early fans were gathering drinking wine and beer in the front parlour around a log fire. I was already grinning from ear to ear, Casal and Roby were playing here in this old farmhouse? Jeez, somebody wake me up. Andrea and I got on the ginseng and lime non-alcoholic wine and sat around chatting to a German girl and an English couple. The German girl had flown in for this gig and tomorrow night's at the Spitz in London. The English couple had come from down the road intriqued to know about Casal. By the time the German girl and I had finished they were open mouthed and ready for the off.
Everyone gathered in this small front room waiting for the gig to commence in the building behind the cottage, nobody plays the open air pit in the winter. Pretty soon the place was filling up. The start time was early 7.30 to allow for dinner to be served around ten or so for those who paid £30 instead of £12.50 for a ticket. When you considered the cost wasn't that expensive because Andrea said the food here is excellent and you get three courses for £17.50. We didn't have the necessary folding stuff tonight. So Andrea just photographed the Aga with the cat asleep above it on the shelf. Place was full of cats.
Kenny Roby was wandering around gobsmacked by the place. The venue finally opened up and we filed into this beautiful little room. A small stage flanked by a grand piano with a big vase of flowers on it. A knarled wood decoration above the stage. On the far side are two big glass windows with views out over the countryside. Stairs ran at the back of this small room to an overhead balcony area which Casal would laughingly shout from and say he was in his bedroom.
Kenny Roby waited patiently to be told when to start. Gradually the stream of late arrivals came through the door but Roby's sixth sense told him there was one more. 'Wait' he says and then the door opens, everyone laughs and a guy stands looking bemused. 'Bet you're wondering why we are talking about you?' laughs Roby. Then we are off. Although there is a sound system there both artists played unmiked.
Kenny Roby went down a storm. Pretty much the same set I've heard over the last two nights but a welcome change to hear him sing without the rattle of beer glasses and chatter from the back. He sounded real comfortable tonight and he enthralled this audience from first note to last. Swung and rolled through a beautiful set of tunes. They are gaining on me every time I see him and tonight was the one, the one when he nailed it all into shape. The twists and turns of rhythm, offbeat syncopation, scuffed chords, pisstake whistling solos, tweeting birds and the serious side to his songs all came together.
He had this audience right with him all the way. During one song Roby was continually laughing through the choruses and looking up to the hidden balcony above us. Finally when he invited Casal down, the songwriter apologised 'Sorry I didn't realise you could hear me up there, I was lost playing a chord'. 'Yeah,' grins Roby, 'What was it, sounded like either Hotel California or Tequilla Sunrise, it's the only two chords you know, the Eagles chord or the people's chord . . .' These guys are running on each other's wit onstage and off.
They both fly into Roby's song Elaine with more of those telling harmonies and subtle guitar interplay. Casal goes to head off but Roby stops him and they perform another song. Casal jumps up while the audience are still roaring applause, claps Roby to stay up and do some more. Roby sings one number and gives the audience 'Can you buy my CD so I can to fly back home.' 'Only if you sing an encore,' shouts the guy in front of me. He's the one I had been talking to earlier. 'What, if I do one more song you'll buy me my ticket home?' queries Roby. 'Can I do another one Neal?' Roby calls up to the balcony. 'Sure,' shouts Casal, 'You been doing it every night . . .'
So we get one more diamond song from Mercury's Blues before the CD and beer break. Roby has positioned himself by the door from where he announces that it is the bar break before promptly disappearing. By the time Andrea and I queue for the bar the English couple I had been speaking to earlier are talking excitedly to Kenny Roby. As promised the guy has a copy of Mercury's Blues and four Casal CDs. The audience here, small audience, crammed into this little room with glass windows looking over farmland have loved every second of his set.
The queue for the lone toilet upstairs in the farmhouse delays the start but this is the country and Casal waits patiently for his call to begin. Once the lady is satisfied that all are in again, she quietly announces Neal Casal from the door then shuts the door and leaves him to it. And we are off again, hang onto your hats, this was another corker of a set. No rattle of glasses, no chatter, you could hear a pigeon fart it was so quiet.
The dusk has turned to night by now and early Casal goes into Real Country Dark and Freemont Row, all the splendour of his impeccable guitar picking blending with a vocal that defies description. Jeez singing songs about Real Country Dark right in a pitch black night whilst in Freemont Row he sings:
'Satin saddles and slow burn down an old dirt road
Life has always been a slow turn why I just don't know
I've always needed someone I could hold on to
I've always needed someone a little more like you'
And I'm looking out at the night through these windows and the songs are singing right in my head. Tonight the set has been a combination of the ones I heard over the last two days plus a couple of additions. Casals repeats a corking song All The Luck In The World again but aren't all the songs he does something special anyway.
The audience is perfect for his set tonight. Not a sound out of anyone just a quiet into which Casal can drop his vocal to a whisper without it being lost amongst chatter and we the audience hear every last note from down to the final click of the pick against the bottom string. Casal's even taking to humming, whistling and tweeting like a bird through songs admitting that Roby is becoming an influence. This tour is going to be a ball from end to end for them.
Of the new songs I hear tonight one is Angelina a song requested from the back. Casal has noted that we are in heavy company tonight with various record company people, publishers etc. here. And when one of the publishers breaks cover to ask for an obscure Casal number, Casal points the guy out to howls of laughter all round.
For the time when Kenny Roby joins Neal Casal, Casal gets behind the grand piano, moves the flowers so he can get directions from Roby who takes his stool. A stark piano, Roby strumming gently before he sings 'Snow don't fall . . .' I knew it was a Townes song, couldn't be anything but, Townes songs carry a trademark, class. I had to ask Roby afterwards what it was. Snow Don't Fall from the Late Great Townes Van Zandt album. Afterwards Casal is disappointed that he fluffed a change but I never heard it. What I heard was a Townes song, Roby taking the lead and Casal coming in on the harmonies, the sound of a grand piano and a gentle guitar strummed. Sounded damn fine to me. And I reckon they worked it out just before the gig.
The final song tonight was the acapella song from last night before we got another corking version of Cincinnatti Motel and a song that I have heard over the previous two nights. It has not been recorded as yet but it has a line 'as you remember the way' in it. Like all the songs tonight I sit spellbound by this guy's artistry. His guitar picking is something else and those vocals, just get to see him play when he comes to your town. If he don't wipe you away, check your pulse.
As we left the tables were being laid for supper. Next time, next time I'm pulling up a chair.
Neal Casal/Kenny Roby - The Spitz, London, Sunday, 18th April, 1999
'Snow Don't Fall'
Driving home last night through winding country lanes Andrea and I laughed about not telling her boyfriend Andy how good a night it was at the Pit. Ever since I played Andy December by Neal Casal he's wanted to see him live. 'What if we go to London when Andy gets home tomorrow night?' I didn't need to be asked twice.
So Andy back from playing nursemaid to a bunch of young pissheads is whisked to London, Andrea packing her cameras again and me packing my head full of songs about dirt roads, lost love and 'barns that lean'.
We found the Spitz more by luck than judgement, got lost more than a few times and finally resorted to asking a passing Irishman if he might point us to the Spitz. 'Sure,' he smiled, 'It's right behind you over there . . .' Andrea did her best Starsky swerve turn jammed the car right outside the bar. We clambered out, bringing cameras and bags and rushed straight up the stairs to the performance room. As we pushed through the doors at 9.30 Kenny Roby had just plugged in and was off on his first song.
The sound here was spot on even if the audience contained a few dicks who talked all the while. However Roby kept his head on the music. Same format as the other three shows, midway through Casals joining him for a couple of songs and then back to solo with a stunning lengthy ballad which was stunning in its passion and laconic unhurried delivery. Wow.
Despite the drunks, Roby went down a storm. He ended with Mercury Blues but organiser Bob Paterson wasn’t going to let him get away that easy. The audience behind him Bob asked Roby to step up and play one more. He walked back onto the stage, put on his guitar and then proceeded to sing acapella. A stonking old Jesus gospel song to stir a congregation. Roby walked to the pillar the side of the stage, clung to it and sang out across the audience. Jeez it was briliant. Beautiful last touch to a superb set.
During the break a guy wandered over in a baseball cap. An older bloke who started talking to Andrea about something. He was saying something to her as I sat out of earshot and she began to turn to motion for me to join the conversation. They'd been talking about Townes and in the half light I pointed to to the Zandtanista t-shirt, turned and let him see the picture of Townes on the back. The guy's name was Laurie Asprey the photographer for Townes Van Zandt's Sugar Hill albums. He explained that he had come tonight to give Neal Casal a signed photograph of Townes. He'd run into Casal last year at the 12 Bar when Casal had sung To Live Is To Fly. 'Give me your address I will send you a photograph too,' he said. 'I only send them to those that are fans of Townes, no one else.' Phew pick me off the bloody floor. What a mercurial few days and then I run into Laurie Asprey and he generously offers to send me a picture of Townes Van Zandt. Blown away, then some.
When Neal Casal came to the stage he made light of this being an important gig, 'London, wow' and just flew into another fine long set of songs. Lots of stuff I've heard and a few I hadn't, Reason and I'm on the Mend interspersed between by Real Country Dark, Today I'm Gonna Bleed, Fremont Row, Delaware Station, No One Said A Word, Free Light of Day, stuff like that.
And you might want to question why someone would sit and listen to Casal and Roby for four nights in row, hearing lots of songs over and over. You might ask why? Beats me, but have you seen the pigs swill being pumped out of the box in the corner, read the educated bollocks pedalled by the papers or eaten the crap that passes for food in the Americana joints on the high street?
Probably it's because I love the double edged cut of Casal, the sharp incisive wit and the troubadour that runs right down to his scuffed boots. When he sings of 'weed, speed and bluegrass and barns that lean' I hear those things and see the pictures out there on Saturday night when Andrea was aiming her camera at cold sunsets. When he sings Town Fathers I see a Thomas Hart Benton picture being conjured right in front of my face. The songs for me are faded photographs that haunt. And he shares with Townes Van Zandt that same deep profoundity countered by a healthy dose of pisstaking.
What I hear too is a complete musician, one devoted to his craft, sometimes flying, sometimes reflective but always chock full of sheer bloody class. And Roby and him are clearly learning from each other and hiding it away in a series of pisstakes to wind each other up.And there was only one thing that pissed me off about Sunday night it was the amount of record people present and hangers on who insisted in talking like fucking buffoons all through both Roby and Casal's sets. And they were dotted all over the place and the fans who had the respect to listen had to listen above their beer fueled yap. Don't care whether they are important people or not, they acted like jerks. You don't expect beer parlours to be as quiet as churches but you expect an artist to get a little more respect during songs than they got on Sunday night. Ok I'll get off my soapbox now.
For all those dicks who came to talk rather than listen could not blur the music on stage particularly when Casal's called Roby back to the stage and they did Townes Snow Don't Fall as the place began to empty, people going to find the late night buses. The harmonies they got on this one took the breath away and over the yap behind me it soared. They got this one nailed. Casal dedicated it to 'Laurie, my man'. They followed Townes with Town Fathers, Casal leaning into the microphone to give it all and Roby's harmony like blown glass. Beautiful.
Don't remember how the encores came and went except that Bob Paterson was spot on to have him back for one more. I think the last song was Andrea's favourite from the night before. It hasn't got a title as yet, something about 'remember' in the lines and it is another one of Casal's delicate, haunted elegy's, graceful chords and picked notes that tingle the nerve ends and a voice that goes straight down the spine. Like hearing Townes sing Tucumsah Valley at Cambridge Folk Festival that time. And like Casal sings of Townes on Highway Butterfly: 'He can't play like he used to but his words still ring true, they curl like dust clouds by the roadside.'
So if she's a straight choice between Americana junk tv and beefburgers or the Casal and Roby brand of rock'n'roll stew, then I'll pass on the Millenium Dome experience thankyou.
Mike Plumbley
Footnote:
This tour runs out of a station wagon. Neal Casal and Kenny Roby support system includes the tour arrangers Perrangela and Vicki of of Chiron Entertainment 44-1295-788692. The president of Glitterhouse Records http://www.glitterhouse.com came in from Germany for a gig, DJ and researcher Bob Patterson, http://www.ursasoft.com/bob along with Bob Harris continues to champion Casal's music. Casal and Roby are managed by Gary Waldman of morebarn music where the official Casal website resides: http://www.morebarn.com/nealcasal.
The rest of us are just fans.
Also see Erlend Tormodsgard's website at:
www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/Palladium/8651
Tour dates: April 15 Louisianna Bar, Bristol; April 16 Central Hotel, Poole, April 17 The Pit, Farnham; April 18 The Spitz, London; April 19 Malt Cross Music Hall, Nottingham; April 20 the Charlotte, Leicester; April 22 Flapper and Firkin, Birmingham; April 23 Prince Henry's School, Otley; April 24 The Woodcutter, Hartlepool; April 25 The Hot Club, Newcastle; April 26 The Rugby Club, Carlisle; April 27 Sloan's, Glasgow; April 28 Band On The Wall, Manchester; April 29, the Pheasant, Sheffield; April 30, Rockingham Arms, Mexborough; May 1, Rotterdam, Belfast; May 3 Whelan's, Dublin; May 4 Roisin Dubh, Galway; May 5, The Lobby, Cork.