We're at Woodlands Friday Night!

We're playing Woodlands this Friday night starting at 6 o'clock. If you're listening to this in Huntington, come on up to the show -- you're more than welcome. Now, the last time we played there, our old friend and former Floodster Chuck Romine -- Doctor Jazz himself -- was in the audience, but when we asked him to come up and sit in on a few tunes, darned if he hadn't forgotten to bring his tenor banjo. Well, heck, THAT won't again. Chuck and his banjo will on hand for the show this time. In fact, Chuck dropped by the rehearsal this week and we just wore him out. Here's a sample.

This Week's Freebie from The 1937 Flood

After a seemingly endless winter that thwarted many of our Wednesday night get-togethers, spring has stumbled into the Ohio Valley. And to celebrate, The Flood finally got a quorum for a rehearsal. Since we hadn't seen each other much so far this year, we found ourselves quickly getting a bit nostalgic, digging back for tunes we'd not played in some time. For instance, we'd darn near forgotten this great old Jelly Roll Morton song until we checked the song list of a CD we released 10 years ago. Her, then, is a revisit with "Whinin' Boy."

This Weekl's Freebie from The 1937 Flood

Thirty years ago, our dear friends David Holbrook, Bill Hoke and Susan Lewis formed the core of our favorite local string band called The Kentucky Foothill Ramblers and, Lord, but they taught us a slew of wonderful tunes. The group used to sing this Utah Philips tune at nearly every show and we never got tired of it. Sadly, The Ramblers are no longer around, but we've got home recordings of most of the band's repertoire, and we've just started working on our own variation of "Green Rolling Hills of West Virginia." Oh, we're not ready to roll it out on our set list for shows yet, but we're sharing here with the podcast family. Think of it as a work in progress.

Introducing The Ice Jam Trio

Ice, snow and illness kept more than half of the band away last night, but as we always say, where two or more gather in its name, it is The Flood. So last night we were three. Sam St. Clair, with son James in tow, came in from the cold with his box of hot harmonicas. Randy Hamilton came slipping and sliding down from his Ohio hilltop, bringing his bass and his sweet harmonies, and we devoted the evening to exploring the prospects of The Ice-Jam Trio. A highlight of the evening was rediscovering this wonderful old Jean Ritchie composition, whose mournfulness seemed somehow fit for a long winter's night. It even has a reference to "February snow."

R.I.P., Pete Seeger

We're doing the podcast a little early this week, because this morning we learned of the death of one of our heroes. Maybe the hero. As you've surely heard by now, the great Pete Seeger passed away peacefully in his sleep. He was 94. Folk musicians often talk about those who went before who influenced them. But they don't talk about Pete so much because his impact on them is just a given. This music -- folk music, roots music, acoustic music, whatever you want to call it -- is what it is today in large part because of the work and the stewardship of Pete Seeger. And it's not only his music. His attitude, his optimism, his inclusiveness and boundless enthusiasm for all kinds of music provided a very fertile field for America's music not just to survive but to thrive. In The Flood, "Uncle Pete" has always in been in the back of our minds. Why, just a few weeks ago, when Chuck Romine dropped by with his banjo, we found ourselves singing "Goodnight, Irene," the song Pete learned from Leadbelly. It was… well, more joyful than it was listenable, and by popular decree, we'll keep that particular track deep in the private collection. However, thinking about how Pete Seeger's influence reaches all the way back to the very beginning of our band, I remembered a concert we were playing 35 years ago, in the first years of The Flood. I remember a pause in the show and suddenly Dave Peyton filled the silence with a beautiful solo on his Autoharp. It was a song I will always associate with Pete, because it was on one of his records that I first heard it, the Shaker tune, "Simple Gifts." Here's that moment.

Remembering Our Dear Companion, Nancy McClellan

If we had had a rehearsal this week -- we didn't because, hey, we're all snowed in here in the Ohio Valley right now -- we surely would have taken a moment to think about our old friend, Nancy McClellan. Nancy, who would have been 81 last Sunday, was a great friend of The Flood. She was even there at those rowdy music parties when then band was born 40 years ago. We've dedicated our latest CD to Nancy McClellan, and here's a track from the new disc, one of Nancy's favorite tunes, which we sang at her graveside last October, Jean Ritchie's "My Dear Companion." Incidentally, visit our website, 1937flood.com, for information about the new CD. There's even a link to order it online.

Chuck Romine Helps Us Plug the New CD!

Our old friend Chuck Romine dropped by to jam with us last night on the eve of his 78th birthday. As long-time members of the Family Flood know, Chuck played that fiery tenor banjo with the band for six years and, as a Floodster emeritus, he's always welcome back. On this track, Chuck's wailing on tune called "I Got Mine" which is featured on our brand new CD. Oh, and speaking of that new CD, called "Cleanup & Recovery," you can now buy it online. Just go to our website, 1937flood.com and follow the link at the top of the front page.