Shipe @ Art & The Vineyard (7/2)

It’s rare to play a full-length featured solo set on a big stage at a festival. 90 minutes is a long time to carry a show by yourself, but I love it. In the past, I would take on some accompaniment for a gig like that. (Jerry-Groove on upright acoustic bass or Ebbage on lead guitar. Or both.) But from here on out, 90 solo minutes on big stages is exactly what I want, as often as possible.

The hour-and-a-half went by in a snap, and I could have easily gone another half-hour. It might have been nature of the event. You know, wine & art in the park. And it might have been the home-town welcome. But the moment was surprisingly intimate — suitable for a singer/songwriter sitting on a chair, wearing a tie and a fedora, with a guitar, a ukulele, and a few stories to tell. It was just me hanging out with an audience sitting on blankets in the sun on a grassy field. Not much different from a wine-bar or coffee house gig.

My eyes were opened to the potential power of the solo set about 6 years ago, when I was booked as an opener for Jerry Joseph at John Henry’s in Eugene. Jerry was on a solo acoustic tour, without the Jackmormons. But I didn’t have a solo set worked up at the time, so I brought my band The Blue Rebekahs.

Conventional wisdom says that full bands play after acoustic acts. But conventional wisdom also says that John Shipe plays before Jerry Joseph. So I asked him: “Hey Jerry, is it all right that I brought my band?”

Jerry answered, “I ain’t afraid of no f–kin’ band.”

(Now, before you interpret this brusque response as rude, I should tell you that Jerry later invited me to sit in on his set. After I jammed on two songs, he said, “It sounds so good, why don’t you just stay up here and play the rest of the show.” Graciousness with fellow musicians can be one of Jerry’s golden features.)

In that moment, I vowed to also never be afraid of playing solo, in any environment, on any stage, on any bill. The trick is to make sure that your acoustic versions are not merely quieter versions. They are different; not less. You gotta lean into that difference. Sing along with the solo acoustic instrument that you’re playing in the moment, not the absent band in your head. Furthermore, as you embrace the intimacy, you’ll find it surprising just how aggressive, rockin’ and big you can get all by yourself. But it must make sense in sonic context. (I have discovered this in my acoustic version of Al Toribio’s “Letter Home.” In The Renegade Saints, this song is powerful, grandiose Southern rocker. By my lone acoustic self, I enter the song softly, relaxed. 3 minutes later, I find myself belting out the vocals and banging out the chords, but in an entirely “acoustic” way, earned through a gradual intimate trajectory.)

About that ukulele. I’m still working on it. I can’t keep it tune, my rhythms are plain, and I haven’t yet tapped into those wonderful uke-swinging 4-note chords that make it so special. But damn! It never fails to be a showstopper. One woman came up to me later: “When I heard that ukulele, I came running over to the stage to see what was going on.” So, no doubt I will be delving deeper into uke territory.

Renegade Saints play “Justice” big.

There are a lot of versions of my song “Justice” floating around. My other band–The Renegade Saints–took a liking to it; it suits our excitability. Prior versions, in early Shipe Bands, would lean on a Middle Eastern element. (Sudden & Merciless drummer Rich Sellars called it “Egyptian Funk.”) But the Saints are pure Americana–going all out classic rock style. This is from Portland Bite Fest 2008–courtesy of Al Toribio, who takes no prisoners in his guitar solos.