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A rock band, an umbrella, and a little philosophy
© St. Petersburg Times, And so I am sitting here in the rain, glad I brought an umbrella and wondering how much more water will have to drip off of the edge of the umbrella into my "hard lemonade" to make it drinkable. But more about horrible drinks some other time. Right now I want to write about what is happening beyond the umbrella rim and beyond my chair on the center line of San Antonio's closed-down main drag -- both blocks of it. It's the terrific marketing event spawned last year, the San Antonio "Jams." It's Americana, it's good rock 'n' roll, and it is an interesting expression of what a consultant friend of mine calls market-facing. First the Jams. They are one of those amazing concepts that make you hope you aren't holding anything heavy or sharp in your hand when it comes to you and you smack yourself on the forehead. The tiny (population around 800 if everyone is home) central Pasco town is mostly occupied by people who like each other, and it has strong ties to nearby Saint Leo and Dade City as well. So last year they started a series of Friday night "Jams" which are essentially block parties. They are open to the public, but they don't draw a lot of outsiders. Anywhere from a few dozen to a few hundred people gather in front of the San Ann Market and Pancho's Villa restaurant. The street is blocked off, the market and restaurant remain open and there is, almost always good, music. Once it was the Irish group DiNella and Devine. Sometimes it is rockabilly band, Skinny McGee. Tonight, as I sit here grinning moronically at all of these people who are wondering why I don't have enough sense to get out of the rain, the band is Nashville Express. And herein comes the market-facing consideration. Market-facing is the point at which industries interface with their target customer base, and the amusing thing is that it is almost always through their lowest paid employees. The president of Chrysler doesn't show up when your your Dodge throws a rod and nobody on the board at McDonald's hands you your french fries. Popular music is that way. Other than through bands like the Nashville Express, the world of music interacts with its customers through recordings, and through relatively rare, costly, big-name concerts. But I promise you that there are very few people on earth who haven't heard Honky Tonk Woman played a thousand times more often by bar bands than by the Rolling Stones, live. The real work, the nuts and bolts, rubber-on-the road interpretative presentation of the art form is done by the industry's lowest paid workers. Most have other jobs. They hang sheet rock. They sell cars, they teach, but for one or two nights a week they work in a world where you unload your own instruments, set up your own sound system and hope the tarp-tent you placed over the bandstand doesn't collapse and dump enough water on the stage to electrocute the lot of you. For that, they get a few bucks, a few compliments and some pain in the neck (okay, it is usually me) in the back of the audience yelling, "Play Free Bird." They arrive in cars and trucks, not limos, you sit close enough to see them sweat, and they do. That's the kind of band Nashville Express is. Ralph Bader is the leader and keyboard/guitar player. Jerry DeLevalle plays steel and lead guitar; Larry Mead plays bass and sings harmony; Lanny Cheek plays lead guitar (they swap off the lead a lot) And Susan Stann-Maharis, is the drummer. And they are good. The 30 or so jam enthusiasts who have showed up tonight are explosively grateful as the country/classic rock band covers everything from Willie Nelson to Chuck Berry. Soon I am not the only person sitting in the rain, although I may be the only one transforming good rock music, bad Gen-X beverages and a wet rear end into a market consulting metaphor. See what you think. Skinny McGee is the band at the next San Ann Jam July 27, and you can catch Nashville Express regularly at Steve's Fountain View in Land O'Lakes. And I'm told, it's as much fun without the philosophy as with. More, probably.
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