On Solid Ground

Folk singer John McCutcheon has engendered almost as much good feeling as waterfalls, rainbows and Twinkies combined over his long career. He definitely has that timing thing figured out as he has released 25 albums in 25 years. He will play songs from his vast repertoire as well as off his latest, “Storied Ground,” during his Saturday night show at the Church of Religious Science in Ventura.

“Virginia’s rustic Renaissance man” was originally a folk singer from Wisconsin who moved south and stayed. McCutcheon is a world-famous hammer dulcimer player, but he’s also a master of the banjo, guitar and fiddle. He’s an experienced grass-roots organizer, has helped redefine the musician’s union, has helped promote international artists and has toured the world over when he wasn’t busy raising his children and writing articles and songs.

McCutcheon’s songs both embrace and expand the folk music tradition. He has written children’s music, topical songs and has resurrected some classics. A busy guy with stories to tell, McCutcheon, a five-time Grammy nominee, consented to a brief grilling before his return to the Poinsettia City.

So how’s “Storied Ground” doing? Are you a rich rock star yet?

It’s an album that’s made all the decisions to make me a rich rock star. It’s doing well, but to tell you the truth, I’m not the kind of guy to call up the record label and ask for the latest sales figures. It’s certainly been received well. It was an interesting album for me to do because I did it at a much lower budget than I’d done any album in recent memory. And I did it very quickly.

There’s a funny song on your new one, “Vultures.” What’s the story on that one?

I was flying over to headline the Kent State Folk Festival [after Princess Diana was killed] and I was reading a story in the National Enquirer and it just really [bothered] me. So I thought I’d just tackle it, and it was one of those songs that just worked out. I just did it as a lark that night and people just went crazy. It just reinforced my notion that topical material is something that often captures people’s imaginations because it’s something they’re always talking about and thinking about. They don’t know what their opinions are until someone comes up and says something and then they go “Yeah!” And also, the idea of it being right there and immediate, people knew that this guy just wrote this song. I’ve toyed with the idea of performing a new song at every show.

You could do that same song every night; just get a new Enquirer and change the words.

Well, I could but people would catch on to that. I’ve never worked with a set list. My shows are pretty informal. I’m loose with the audience and people have often said that they like the whole idea that “Hey, this guy really was in Ventura, . . . he wasn’t just going through the motions.”

Twenty-five albums in 25 years? That’s amazing.

Yeah, isn’t that ridiculous?

So, you could play longer than the Grateful Dead?

Yeah, and I’m healthier, too. I have an absolutely strict limit of 100 days a year. My impression is that’s on the low end, which is probably why I’ve still got the original family. Usually I never work anything but weekends.

You went to Russia. What was that like?

That was incredible. It was a very interesting time, right before the end of the Soviet Union. I left on a Sunday and on Thursday, the coup happened. I toured with a Russian artist and it was a tremendously cathartic experience. People were literally in tears, and not because it was so bad, because they were seeing a Russian and an American performer onstage doing a whole show together, talking and singing about getting along.

So did you get blamed for the collapse of the Soviet Union?

All those people who thought I was a communist all these years probably thought it was my fault. When I was in Moscow, I brought my family. I remember I was walking up to Red Square with a son under each arm and I remember thinking, “I’m not a huge star. I’ve never sold a million records, and my kids are really going to grow up with a different view of the world because of the work I do.” I grew up taking classes on how to hate Russians, and my kids think they’re the greatest people in the world. Then I had a flash--bingo!--this is what success means and it has nothing to do with money or fame. If you can change the world your kids grow up in, their perspective, what bigger cherry is there?

Why aren’t more musicians socially conscious?

A lot of them are far more socially conscious. I think there are a lot of people who are more outspoken than I am or else they approach it in a totally different way, and their careers suffer for it. I’ve been fortunate that the way I do things seems to resonate with people who are in my audience. You do what you do. It may sound gratuitous, but it’s not a popularity contest. How much applause does it take before you really want to be doing something else besides garnering applause?

Who goes to a John McCutcheon show?

A lot of different kinds of people. It runs the gamut. I’ve done eight albums that are aimed at children and families. I’ve got stuff that’s topical. I have stuff that’s full-bore horn section rock ‘n’ roll, and I’ve got stuff that is sort of a combination of all those things. You live in people’s lives by what they hear on the radio or songs they hear someone else sing or maybe they’ve actually been to one of your shows. Some people will come who think I only play hammer dulcimer, and other people know me as “the guy that my kid’s music teacher uses all his albums.” Others know me as “the guy that wrote ‘Christmas in the Trenches.’ ” So all these people are there and discover that I’m all of those things, and that’s the fun part. My job is to knit that little ad hoc community together for a night.

Where do you fit into the folk tradition?

It’s definitely where I started out. When I was a kid it was the heyday of the folk music revival of the 1960s. It was all about participation. There wasn’t a ton of hot pickers, and with the exception of Joan Baez and Judy Collins, there weren’t people who were seen to have beautiful voices. And you didn’t have as many writers. There was a lot of participation; it was come on, get a guitar, you can do this. So I did. The further I got into this, the more I wanted to know where it came from. So when I was still a teenager, I stuck out my thumb and headed for eastern Kentucky, West Virginia, North Carolina and Tennessee.

How did a Wisconsin guy end up in Virginia?

It was the music, absolutely. I wanted to be around a lot of old people that played banjo. So I came down here 30 years ago, and I’m still here. I spent a lot of that time collecting instruments and learning how to play them. So to me, the folk tradition goes back a lot further than Peter, Paul and Mary. To me, it’s people and places no one has ever been to and no one will ever hear. Everyone adds their own piece to the stew. As Gil Scott-Heron once said, “If you’re a songwriter and you’re not saying anything, then write an instrumental.” I write all kinds of things--kids’ songs, love songs, songs that talk about topical events or historical events. It’s all a big open palette to me.

Are they paving the Civil War battlefields near you?

It’s a constant struggle. It’s another Civil War, absolutely. We have this notion in this country branded into our DNA that we have all the time and space in the world. Several years back Disney was going to create a theme park by the Bull Run battlefield. I wrote a song about that based on the “Mickey Mouse Club Theme Song.”

What advice would you give to an aspiring musician?

Don’t give up your day job. I think anybody who makes their living as a musician has spent a lot of time woodshedding. That’s when you go out to the woodshed and just play and play and play. When I was in my early 20s, it was all a blur. That’s when I learned to play all those instruments and worked on the foundation of what became my musicianship from a technical standpoint, but the gold ring is at home. I see a lot of people who grow up with this notion that they want to make it big and they see music as a way to get rich and famous. This is not to belittle that dream, but you’re just as likely to get rich and famous as you are starting for the Lakers. I’ve seen people who are terrific talents as performers, as singers or as writers and the goal they have for themselves involves a quantitative measure of their success based on unrealistic or pie-in-the-sky terms. I’d say build a base locally. Get to know your audiences, develop a relationship with them and play music you really enjoy and feel proud of. If you’re playing music solely to please the masses, it comes through.

DETAILS

John McCutcheon at the Church of Religious Science, 101 S. Laurel St., Ventura, Saturday, 7:30 p.m. COST: $15 in advance or $18 at the door. CALL: 646-8907.

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Imagine a dance club with music that you actually want to hear. Further imagine no bouncers who hate you, no bartenders who ignore you, no drunks stepping on your feet and no one blowing smoke in your face. Such a place does exist, and it’s Dance Jam Ventura, a new space where people can dance to their favorite songs in a smoke-free, drug-free and alcohol-free environment.

Dance Jam Ventura is held the second Saturday of the month at the First United Methodist Church’s Trotter Hall. This event offers not only a great workout with friendly people, but a large dance floor and plenty of water. Music styles include rock, hip-hop, techno, swing, Latin and about everything else in between. Rotating DJs ensure variety. The theme for the coming event, the fourth so far, is “Dance like no one is watching.”

DETAILS

Dance Jam Ventura at First United Methodist Church, 1338 Santa Clara St., Saturday, 7:30 to 10:30 p.m. COST: $5 for adults, or $1 for those younger than 16. CALL: 653-7709.

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At 6-foot-6, Eek-a-Mouse is one of the largest rodents in the world. Mickey, Mighty or Speedy Gonzalez could merely gnaw at his ankles. This man with the funny name is, of course, the Jamaican reggae star who will be headlining the Ventura Theatre on Saturday night.

Born with a regal-sounding handle, Ripton Hylton, Eek was given the mouse nickname by some of his pals. That may have been inspired by his squeaky voice, perhaps not mouse-like, but squeaky nonetheless.

“I didn’t like the name at first, but now I do,” he said. “I’ve been singing since I was a kid when I used to hear Nat King Cole on the radio. He was my favorite. I love to sing--it’s my whole life. Sometimes when people hear my voice, they wonder if it’s a mouse or a man.”

DETAILS

Eek-A-Mouse and Four 20 Band at the Ventura Theatre, Saturday, 8:30 p.m. COST: $22. CALL: 653-0721.

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Bill Locey can be reached by e-mail at blocey@pacbell.net.