“It was one of them days, yes the first Thursday of the new month….” – the opening lyrics of River Forktine Tippecanoe – one of the more compelling of many extraordinary songs on Munly and the Lee Lewis Harlots’ self-titled album.
As it happens, the day I met Jay Munly was the first Thursday of December. Our interaction went something like this:
Me (approaching with awkward slowness and foolish grin): Can I make a request, or do you have a set list that you’re sticking to tonight?
Munly (tall, lean frame bending to better hear my quiet question): Well, you can make a request, but if it isn’t on my playlist I won’t play it.
Me (nervous laugh, still grinning): Oh, that’s fine, I understand. I’m completely thrilled to hear whatever you play. I’m just so happy you’re here.
Munly (accommodating his nervous fan – good man): Just out of curiosity, what would you have requested?
Me: Bird and/or Cat, from your Lupercalians album (duh. Like he doesn’t know which album his songs are on). I really love that album, by the way.
Munly: Oh, thank you (sounding genuinely grateful for the compliment, generic though it was).
Me (feeling desperately awkward but not wanting to part from the moment…this is where I get weird, by the way): I had a really shitty fuckin day today….I didn’t know you were here in town, but a friend of mine called and said you were playing, so I put on my big girl boots and made myself come out for a bit. I’m so incredibly thrilled you’re here. Thank you so much for coming to Boise. Really makes me happy….so anyway, thanks again for being here. I think you’re brilliant….
And with that, before I could catch a glimpse of what I’m sure was an utterly befuddled expression on his wonderfully gaunt face, I ran away to breathe and down a stiff drink. Who the heck talks about her “big girl boots” to Munly? Me….sigh.
Munly, along with a host of other exceptionally talented musicians such as Slim Cessna and David Eugene Edwards, is saddled with the honor of having developed the Denver Sound. This remarkable genre of gothic Americana country has stolen my soul and wrested my heart, and no one renders me willing to surrender soul and heart for the sake of music better than Munly.
During Munly’s set, I stood just to the left of the stage, finding a space where I could experience his sound alone, without the distraction of friends and small talk. How anyone could make a peep during his playing is something I can’t begin to comprehend, yet there were several birdbrains squawking away in the darkened corners of the bar, woefully unaware of what they were witnessing. I think Munly sensed their lacking too – he didn’t play for long. But while he sat upon that black Neurolux stage, I stood fixed to the floor by the humble splendor of his unbridled genius.
Post script: I have always been irresistibly drawn to the banjo. It’s unfortunate that Deliverance has forever marred the commanding beauty of this instrument with ghastly visions of squealing piggies. The banjo possesses a sound that is at once complex and clear. Munly is one of the few modern musicians who has truly mastered its incredible diversity and distinction.
Last spring, my dear manfriend was kind enough to buy me a banjo for my birthday. I can barely play Hot Cross Buns on the beloved thing, but I pluck away whenever I gain the courage to pick it up…..I can play the flute, but it’s a long, arduous journey from wind to string….one I’m happy to take, be it at a turtle’s pace….
By the way, these stunning photographs are courtesy of the magnificently talented Bethany Walter. She slays me with her vision every week.
Jacket: Suede – purchased by my mother in the 70’s.
Blouse: Polyester – thrift store find.
Skirt: Velvet – given to me by Jessica and Kelly, fellow FU stunners.
Boots: Leather – purchased new from Frye.
Necklace/Earrings: Hazel Cox (who else?)
The photographer’s favorite photo of the bunch……….
