Yet another first at Gerdes'

Fifty years ago today: according to Clinton Heylin's book Stolen Moments, February 6th 1961 was the Monday where Bobby Dylan played the Hoot for the first time. Back then, everyone was a complete unknown and had to draw a number from the hat to determine the order of appearance on the famed stage. At some point later on, Folk City employed using a numbered deck of playing cards face down to figure out pecking order. The peformance rule for Hoots....rarely followed to the letter...was 3 songs or 15 minute time limit, whichever came first. With chatty musicians and the potential for relentless story telling through song, it's no wonder the Hoots started early and needed a savvy emcee to herd the cats on and off.

Bobby would end up doing consecutive open mics at Gerdes well into March. By then, he had befriended one Dave Van Ronk and wife and talent promoter Terri Thal who had Mike Porco's ear enough to encourage him to sign the kid up to be billed at least for an opening act. That would come later on April 11th. In the meantime, this Dylan kid's name had been circulating around the square. The applause meter in Mike's head probably told him that he just may have the goods. And if you had the goods, odds were, you drank at Folk City for free after a time. I've been told that well-liked musicians' money was no good at the bar. I'm sure that sat well with Zimmy.

Dylan would later be discover'd here at Gerdes' and it became the ideal place for him to showcase his new material and even rehearse. And did I mention drink for free???

1.30.61: Dylan shows up at Gerdes to play Hoot- Turned Away

Fifty years ago today, 19 year old Robert Zimmerman strode over to Gerdes' Folk City on 4th and Mercer to partake in the famous and ever-exciting Monday Night Hootennany. Since mid-1960, Gerdes' was the home of Greenwich Village's first open mic. It was a place where "dreamers came to dream," as David Massengill put it; A place known as "headquarters" by Carolyn Hester; A place called "the Mecca" by Richie Havens; A place that a grown up Bob Dylan would call in his autobiography Chronicles "the preeminent Folk Club in America."

But not this night. Young Bobby just looked to damn young to be allowed on stage. 

"Get out of here you punk kid," Mike didn't say to him. 

No. It was probably more like this: "How 'bout you come-a back next week with-a something that proves-a how old you are."

Which he did. And then he played the Hoot again the next Monday. And then several Mondays after that until soon enough, the likes of Dave Van Ronk, his wife Terri Thal, Folk City booking agent Charlie Rothschild and a host of others "sternly suggested" that Mike book the Kid. Which he did....

Bob Dylan plays at the Folklore Center for the first time 1.29.61

Isreal G. Young- Godfather of Folk

here's a bit on his link to Gerdes'

It's been said with much acuracy and historical fact that without Izzy Young, there would be no Folk City. After all, it was his idea to formally hire acts and headline them at Gerdes' Restaurant at 11 west 4th. He and business partner Tom Prendergas approached Grandpa in December of 1959 to encourage him to use his place as a venue to book the up-and-coming acts that were performing elsewhere in the neighborhood. It was a match made in Heaven for the Folk crowd and Porco, but not so for Porco and Young.

Isreal Young was the eccentric owner of The Folklore Center located at 110 Macdougal Street. It was known by all the musicians and tourists alike as the place one could go into and buy everything related to Folk Music. He sold everything he thought musicians and music enthusiasts would want. His patrons were the musicians themselves along with everyone else who paraded around the streets of Greenwich Village. His store became a destination for tourists and Musicians since there was enough space to sit and play their music without having to purchase very much. Izzy never treated anyone like a freeloader. He loved the music and he loved the people who played it. They, in turn, loved Izzy. In fact, he became a sort of promoter to some in a happenstance definition of the word. His crowning acheivement was producing Bobby Dylan's Carnegie Hall concert in 1961. Fifty three (or was it 56?) tickets were sold and Dylan was paid duly from Isreal Young's pocket. 

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The village back then had a scant many bars that had a New York State liquors license. Places like Cafe Wha?, the Gaslight and several others relied upon the blend of Beatniks and the growing folk crowd to keep the register open with sales of french fries and coffee while the stages showcased alternating acts of poets and singers. The musicians who needed a place to play would carry their guitar and playlist club to club, night after night. The patrons tended to do the same in search of a newer scene, prettier faces or just better music.

Some joints were known as "baskethouses" since everyone performed for free and passed their own hat, as it were, to collect pay for their performance. Usually this required a trusted friend to act as part accountant and part salesperson. Pretty girls encouraged bigger tips, so said new comer and former portrait artist Richie Havens. 

Baskethouses got the reputation for being the places where beggars who played guitar melded their trades. Many players paid their rent just this way and an exceptional few, like Havens, made quite a living playing as many as a dozen different houses a night. However, it just wasn't the way for big dreamers to get their careers off the ground. They were to be more successful at promoting their musical message at the more "upscale" coffeehouse circuit.

Problem was, there wasn't any real upscale circuit to speak of. The Wha?, The Gaslight, The Bitter End, The Kettle of Fish to name a few, were the more sought after rooms to play since they were almost fully transformed into Music-only venues. The Beat poets were losing ground to the steady stream of singer/songwriters/street performers making their way in to the clubs from out in the Park. Unfortunately for Young, the Folklore Center was ill-suited to showcase acts and house an audience at the same time.

But Gerdes' restaurant seemed ripe for such an adventure. Mike Porco had already been hiring various solo acts to play there on a regular basis to provide background sound for the blue collar eatery. Accordian and guitar players would skulk around during dinner hours. At the time, Porco had a loyal customer base of factory workers and students who would eat there during the day while during the Happy Hours, Gerdes' would be open serving up beer and liquor and exceptional Italian food to the locals. Even so, closing time would still take place around 8PM.

Izzy and Tom saw an opportunity staring them in their faces. Young already knew all the musicians and they could utilize Gerdes' liquor license to service and entertain a steady and thirsty crowd with select acts charging for admission at the door. Their plan was to hire the acts, promote the gig, and pay the musicians while offering Mike all the profit on food and drink sales. It would come to be known as The Fifth Peg at Gerdes'.

The math from the start was fuzzy. Gerdes held under a hundred patrons and were being charged $1.50 for entry. The headliners got $20 and the cost for up front promotion wasn't cheap. They quite literally needed to sell out every night to make their money back. As Izzy later put it, it was a win/lose situation: Izzy and Tom couldn't win and Mike couldn't lose.

(more on the transformation from the Fifth Peg turning into Folk City later...)

It was fifty years ago today.....

When the man named Zimmerman crossed the George Washington Bridge and rolled his way down to Green-witch Village to warm his bones and show his wares. The story has been told a thousand ways, so I won't chatter on too much. After spending early January playing coffeehouses in Chicago, he ventured to the University of Wisconsin and spent time with future Village pioneers Danny Kalb, Eric Weissberg and Marshall Brickman. Then he grabbed a ride to NYC in a 57 Impala with Dave Berger. First stop: The Wha? where he took the stage for a couple of songs with Fred Underhill. Owner Manny Roth asked the audience for a volunteer to put Little Zimmy up for the night.

The Cafe Wha? will be staging celebration of the occasion this Saturday January 29 to help celebrate the anniversary of his arrival. HIGHWAY 61 REVISITED, the official Dylan tribute band, will perform to an excited bunch.

Be there or be rectangular!

http://www.cafewha.com/index.php?mact=News,cntnt01,print,0&cntnt01articleid=1&cntnt01showtemplate=false&cntnt01returnid=85

Zimmy was bent on playing at the feet of his idol Woody Guthrie (which he did) but first he had to get his feet wet and perform around the Village (which he did).

There were a lot of baskethouses to hone his skill in.....And there was a little Italian restaurant on 4th and Mercer that was a paying room. It had been booking all the up-and-comers as well as some blues greats still making their way on the road. It also held an open mic on Mondays. Bobby wasn't the first nor the last fingerpicker to make a point to hoof over to Gerdes and take a number from the hat.

Dylan's first Hootenanny would have to wait a few days, but he seemed to like them considering he frequented and played them for months after. Folk City later would be known as "Dylan's turf." The legend of how Bobby became Dylan lured singer/songwriters from around the country to try their hand at it, too.

Ain't it grand?

Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune

What a splendid piece. 
The movie. And Phil. 

The buzz for the movie's arrival started some weeks back. Phil's sister Sonny had mentioned it to me in the spring but it had completely slipped my mind until recently when it started to get mention on Facebook. The first thoughts that came to mind when I saw the ads and promos were the words of my grandfather himself saying "I wish-a Phil Ochs lived a hundred years." He said this in 1979 during an interview with Dan Behrman. Dan was generous enough to make me a copy and it remains the only lengthy recording I have of Grandpa's voice. 

The interview was taped in the basement office at 130 W. 3rd and aired on Dan's show on WBAI and in it, one can hear exactly what Mike Porco was like. His speech was even paced and comforting. He had a firm mastery of English even if he might twist a pronunciation or two around. He had a kind laugh and was soft spoken. In fact, the recording caught Mike answering the phone a couple of times to give directions and to take a message for an employee who had not yet arrived at the club. He wasn't pressing for time nor did he seem pressed himself. He was taking his time before work. The night was likely to be long. 

Dan was talking about some of the musicians that had played on Gerdes' stage and Phil Ochs was mentioned. Phil Ochs graduated from passing the hat at baskethouses to working paying rooms in Greenwich Vilage.  "Phil was a very shy type, when I met him," Mike said. "I think he was-a one of the best songwriters around. Where ever he would play, he used to mention 'Folk City' and my name and say 'that was the first paying job I had.'"

 It's been said that Mike treated most of the Fellas like his own son, but everybody knew that Phil was "his boy". Sonny told me that. Jack Hardy told me that. Rod MacDonald told me that. And I'm sure to hear it again. 


In an unguarded moment, Mike's voice softened even further as he seemed to lose his place. "Ive been thinking the world of him and I really miss him today. I wish he lived to 150. I love him."

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I felt a strong pull to see the Phil Ochs bio as soon as I could. It was so fitting that the first theater it was shown was in what was once the Waverly on 6th Ave at the west end of 3rd St; a stone's throw from the old Folk City. It opened Wednesday 1.5.11 and I went yesterday. 

It was a gripping tale of a man every generation should know about. As it was put in the movie, "he had a voice, six strings and conviction." Phil was able to create a career for himself out of nothing if not a passion to express himself through music. While Dylan and many others were writing from personal experience, he was interpreting world events into a language that could be understood on the gritty streets of New York. Like a conduit between the New York Times and the masses, he found a way to mobilize people against the unholy and unjust acts committed at home and abroad. He brought unspoken and heady issues to the forefront like the CIA overthrow of the democratically elected leader of Chille, Allende. He helped form the Young Independent Party (Yippies) with Abbie Hoffman. He tirelessly battled the ridiculousness of Vietnam. And he did it through music. With beautiful melodies and a sweet voice. 

No one I've spoken to so far speak ill of Phil Ochs. And when his name has come up, the tone of the conversation changes. His contemporaries and peers loved and miss him. And I'm proud to know that Grandpa cared for him when others shunned him. 

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The movie is a lesson in creativity and rising up in a crazy and crazed world. 

About the film:
www.philochsthemovie.com

Showtimes:
http://firstrunfeatures.com/philochs_playdates.html

New Year's all a-Buzz

I rang in the New Year with a long conversation with The One, The Only...Buzzy Linhart
 
Oddly enough, I was thinking of him recently and was taken aback by a phone call from him. I couldn't think of a better way to bring in new years (and my first year's journey into Gerdes' past) than with a guy who was known for doing the Folk City new years show. As fate would have it, my plans to be out of the house changed in the early evening and I was able to return the call and spend a new years with him.....a bit differently from how Mike spent some with him but a Porco/Linhart connection none the less. Lot of love still pouring out of the Folk City legend to this day. It's an honor to be in contact and "In tune" with so many of the people who shared intimate moments with my Grandfather.

Buzzy and I had spoken about a month before the Anniversary party. It was clear to me over the phone that he held Mike in high regard and was happy to have heard from me.

(to be continued) 

Dylan

So I went to a couple of Dylan shows last month. The first being in my neck of the woods at the Mid Hudson Civic Center in Poughkeepsie on November 16th. Being that is was local, I bought 4 tix assuming it would be easy to find 3 others to attend with me. It was a no brainer to ask Edwin, an old family friend. Affectionately and more often called Bud, he knows more about Dylan than anyone I've ever met. Bud was eager to help me archive the footage from June 7 Porcofest and in the process, share several of the hundreds of bootlegs and rare discs capturing Dylan not only in his prime, but also as a budding artist. Amongst the gifts, he gave me a copy of the "Banjo Tape" allegedly recorded in Gerdes basement in the early sixties and another tape known as The Glover Tape recorded on a whim in 1962 on one of his first visits back to Minnesota after he had established himself in The Village. 

It shouldn't be a surprise that Bud's youngest son is named Dylan. 

Anyway, Bud brought John to the show and could have easily found another taker. But I wanted to offer my own ticket to someone. Well those someones didn't want to venture out late on a tuesday so, in a flash, I contacted the Anniversary Party's opening act Roland Mousaa. Roland knew Uncle Bobby way back when and has been credited with saving Dylan from being stabbed by Phil Ochs in a drunken haze.....but that's another tale....

"Yes! And I'll make a couple of calls to get us back stage," Roland wrote me in an email. "Bob will be pleased."

Well I hadn't thought he could pull it off but what the hell. I wasn't going to stop him. I had been making attempts myself by contacting Jeff Rosen's office personally asking for a moment of Dylan's time just to get the lowdown from the man himself about his relationship with Mike Porco. He's the only man alive that can tell me. But I didn't want to pester his office too often and upset the balance. I didn't want to cross the line and be seen as a stalker. I figured that since my name had become subject matter on inter-office emails I was nearly there. At least it didn't say Re: bob Porco, delusional fan....

Later found out what kind of following he had as evidenced by the legion of fans who join in on the never ending tour for a leg or two. 

But now, Roland was on the case and doing his damndest to try and get us all connected. "I think Bob would want to meet you," he said. "He loved your Uncle John and your Grandfather." Roland had spoken to Bobby's California office more than Jeff Rosen's NYC office. I started the week thinking I had a .01% chance of meeting Dylan but with Roland hustling, I thought wishfully that it just might be 50/50 by Tuesday night. 

Alas, no success was had in getting word to and from Dylan by the managerial route. So, while still in the audience and within a few rows of the band, I decided I would get closer to the stage for the encore and try to get within earshot of him while we were still in the same room. 

Well after closing with Like a Rolling Stone, Bob assembles his band for a final bow and I take the opportunity to toss a folded copy of the Anniversary Reunion poster on stage with a cheeky note on back. (BBQ at my house!) That's my brush with fame....a folded piece of paper thrown on stage after the show. Whoop!

Roland and his wife Princess Wow aka Brenda were not wowed by Dylan's new loud sound. I, however, was in awe at how he still can hold the crowd in his hand without saying much. He played a lot of lead guitar that night and did a rendition of Ballad of a Thin Man that I can only describe as milk curdling. And to note, 20 year old girls are still inching closer to the stage to get a good glimpse of the man. Fact. 

Well, after the harsh realization that no one gets in to see the wizard not no way not no how, I went with Bud and John to the lobby of the ajacent hotel for a nightcap. That's where I met Ross. 

Ross was already there and must have heard us rehashing the versions of the night. He tells us that this show was his 27th of the year and he was driving to Binghamton for the next night's show, as well. 

"Well, I'm going next Tuesday also," I tell him. 
"I'll be in the City for all three shows. Let's connect," said Ross.
"Sure."

So of course, my plans on the 23rd were expanded to meet up with this wine exec from San Fran via Chicago and his band of gypsies who "would want to meet you, too."

This time I went with Vincent T Vok who purchased the round of beers that led to the idea of the reunion party in the first place. His eldest son also answers to the name Dylan. Go figure. "Good things always happen when we meet out," he says.  

The Readers Digest version is: we met near Times Square. Walked to 56 and 11 and got my bag checked before going in. Had a personal favorite poland spring water tossed in the trash. Got frisked and had the rest of my kind stash also thrown in the dustbin to join my water. Caught up with Vok. Bob gave many a religious experience during Thunder on the Water. Met up with Ross, Darlene, Patrick, Charles, Sean and an Irish dandy of a man dressed impeccibly in a suit and tie working in his 75th show of the year with 2 more to go named Noel. We ate and drank and had a blast. I felt woozy in the morning and had forgiven the theft of goods at Terminal 5. 

But I spoke to Lee Ronaldo of Sonic Youth in the hall leading to the bathroom as Working man Blues #2 played live. "Hey man. I'm sorry to stop you but I have to tell ya, you, Dylan and I have something in common." 
"Oh yeah," with a puzzeld look 
Yeah man. folk City! My grandfather owned it before Robbie."
Oh that's COOl!
Then I got the chance to tell him whatfucking Sonic Youth means to me. Then we talked about Izzy Young. Strange but true.  

The awareness
The understanding

Realized I've not made a lot of new contacts at the pace of a year ago, but I've still been active within this new Community. I've gained access to this close knit group, have been welcomed in with no questions asked and have been able to gain my own perspective from the inside. Among some things I've learned is that that's how they ALL got here. Dylan, Porco, Bromberg, Traum, Havens, Hardy, Ungar...everyone. That's how it works. The music binds to a group of mankind and it's up to the group to expand and bring in others so future generations can perpetuate and self serve the living group. 

Like rock and roll..... only the small town feel.

Like Mike Merenda said to me, "Its a small family but it's strong!"

Happy Birthday, Grandpa!

On the anniversary of Mike Porco's birth, I thought I'd re-post a tale of the early days of his adulthood and his first experience in America.

Michele Porco
23 October 1914 - 11 March 1992

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Michele had worked in the rural province of Calabria since the age of eight when his father apprenticed him to a carpenter. It was hardly uncommon for pre-teens of the Old World to have their vocation decided for them by their parents and Michele proved to be a fast learner and a patient woodworker. Young Michele (pronounced Mick-EL-eh) continued with school but it was clear to Angelo Porco that his son's abilities were best displayed by his handy work. His early calling was in the fine skill of cabinet making and he was proficient enough in that trade that by age 16, he had opened his own shop making cabinets and doing woodworking jobs for the townsfolk.

Just two months beyond his 18th birthday, Michele received a long awaited post from New York where his father had gone months before. In it, Angelo summoned his eldest Son to leave his mother and three siblings behind to be with his father and fashion a new life in America. Michele, like millions of European immigrants before him, had dreams of inventing himself in the Land of Opportunity. The only promise he had was from his father saying in the letter that he would meet him at the pier when his ship came in to new York.

Finally, the day planned by his father was upon Michele. In January of 1933 he packed a trunk bound for glory and rode a train 450 miles up the Mediterranean shoreline to Genoa.


The work-strong Michele dreamt of making his way in America the way many of his cousins did before him. He and his father had known of several families that had already settled in New York City from their homeland in Calabria. Michele's father had shuttled back and forth during the last decade to work with extended family members and Angelo had plans to enhance the Porco family's prospects by adding a hardworking wage earner. Armed with little more than half a lifetime's experience in a trade and a wealth of ambition, he readied himself for the adventure of his life. He would later Americanize his name, simply, to Mike.


The Conte di Sevoia arrived in New York harbor in the early hours of the 2nd day of February. The forecast called for a sunny day according to the New York Times. Now with his official papers in hand, Michele was eager to reunite with his father; an event he envisioned happening over the course of transversing the 4600 mile trip to the America. 

The melee of welcomers and new arrivals was just another everyday occurrence for the Immigration workers on the pier. For Michele, it was a maddening chore trying to find his father's face in the crowd. Finally, a familiar voice cried out his name from a distance. Again the voice called for 'Michele'. Michele stopped in his tracks unsure of why it wasn't his father's voice. It was a passing thought. He soon recognized the voice of his uncle getting louder as he neared his space. A joyous hug and a tear of a bittersweet welcome accompanied with an awkward silence unexpected by Young Porco.

Tio Luigi had dreaded this heart-wrenching moment. He had to find a way to welcome his kin to the New World and, in the very next breath, tell the boy that his father had died shortly after sending his last letter home to Italy.


The definition of Mike's new beginnings in America had now been instantly altered into a challenge to not only start from scratch but to make his way virtually on his own. 

He would have little time to mourn as his fate awaited him in the morning of tomorrow. His fighting spirit surely took a devastating blow from behind on the pier that day but perhaps it was from this absolute emotional bottom that Mike Porco cultivated a level of quiet determination that he would harness and use for the rest of his life in New York. Here at the lowest point of his young life, little could he expect that he would one day play a crucial role in facilitating the revival of a musical movement that would define American society for decades to come.

Mike would eventually offer a stage and a week's pay to every singer-songwriter who was able to muster up "a following." They came from all over the country in hopes of becoming a star in Greenwich Village. But first Mike had to pick himself up and follow his own star.