Angel Band

Here in Yellow Springs I've been talking up the concept of a folk school, one person at a time. It's a wonderful adventure, seeing what sorts of ideas come to people when they've got a concept like this to play with. Little did I expect, however that I'd find myself a band to play with. That's what happened. First came Maggie, the ethnomusicologist banjo-picker and singer. She invited Bill, the Renaissance Fair jouster, horseman, and historical theater traveling showman. Bill is our standup bass fiddle player. Then came Joe, originally from down-home, with his fine guitar picking and his fiddling and storytelling and songwriting. We have clicked - we've got good chemistry

Our first gig was the village Eco-Slam, with Bill and Maggie backing up Buzzy Bee on "Just Say No No No To Lawn Che-MEE-cals." Our second gig was the Antioch School picnic, where we were singing into the chilly wind and were overrun by excited children dashing hither and yon. It was then that the person who was announcing us asked us if we had a name. Nope. Not right then.

Then, at our next practice, I had a funny feeling - there was that "angel" energy running all up and down my arms. I said, "I've got that angel feeling."

Maggie said, "That's funny - I was just about to suggest that we try out that song, Angel Band."

All of us looked at each other, and someone said, "Maybe that's the name of our band - The Angel Band."

There was no doubt. We're the Angel Band. We played the tune - an old Baptist hymn - and decided the first verse was great, but the second might tend to drive audiences away. Instead, I suggested that we do that bluegrass thing of taking a slow 3/4 tune and moving into a quick 4/4. We tried it: first, in slow gospel richness, then four beats from the bass to speed us up, then - wheeeeeeee! Over into bluegrass style.  We all agreed, it's a keeper!

Then came our next gig, playing out on the sidewalk along the village's main street, Xenia Avenue, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, in front of the Emporium / Underdog Cafe. Oh, we had such a good time, pickin' and grinnin', working out our memory glitches of lyrics and chord changes, and dealing with loud motorcycles and a honking locked car (key of G).....And enjoying people dancing and clapping. One person even made us a little donation basket, and then it was fun to see the money accumulating. The best was just singing the harmonies, just heart to heart among us and with whoever was listening. Just pure joy.

We had one more practice, and then our gig last evening, singing for our supper at the Corner Cone. We went on for a good two hours, and there were children dancing up a storm. One young boy came up and stood right next to Bill and the big bass fiddle. Just stood there. That's how those old-time musicians get their start, so I wouldn't be surprised to see him with an instrument before too long. I just couldn't help grinning everytime we lit into our harmonies - thinking, at the same time, that this was our last time to play together for a while, maybe for years.

The Angel Band, formed so quickly, is now undergoing some separations. I'm off to Texas for two weeks; after that, Bill and his family are on the road with various endeavors; and before they get back, Maggie and her husband and children will be moving to Kazakhstan. Oh, my! We all just love each other so much, as musicians do - and it's hard to separate. There's a little part of me that says we'll not be apart too long. Indeed, Joe and Bill and I will still practice, and perhaps another banjo picker will show up until Maggie returns, whenever that may be. But it won't be quite the same. We'll miss our Maggie.

Here are the words to "Angel Band," which my heart is singing as I write this article:

My latest sun is sinking fast -  my race is almost run.

My strongest trials no more will last - my triumph has begun.

Oh, come, angel band; come and around me stand.

Oh, bear me away on your snow white wings, to my immortal home------

Oh, bear me away on your snow white wings, to my immortal home.