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<strong>This is about Matt.</strong>

Make no mistake, there could be 100 lead lines to this night, but.... <strong>This is about Matt</strong>.

About a man who, when he met Grace, sat her down and made her watch The Last Waltz. "This is the kind of band I want  with you. You in?"    Grace: "ahh, yeah". And the first time he met Sparky, sat HIM down and made him watch The Last Waltz.

And day of show "I was so nervous, I was pacing all day. I was pacing in the truck during the ride down."

And who, finally, sat down at the drum set of his idol, in (with apologies to Fenway Park) the "lyrical little bandbox" that is Levon Helm Studio, and knocked one out of the park, delivering the single most impressive performance of his career. The joy and delight on his face was in no way eclipsed by the mega-watt smiles on the face of each Nocturnal, clearing recognizing the culmination of a dream. You know he didn't want the set to end. Have you ever had a long held, distant dream come true? I have, more then once, and Grace made it happen. And on the plane out to LA a few weeks ago, I sat next to the guitarist for a group that was going to be playing in his hometown of Detroit, in "the theater i always dreamed of playing, with my family there." And on the ride home, I think of his dream, and my dream, and Matt's dream coming true, and tears roll down my cheeks. My ride home is like that. 200+ miles, no radio, no CD.... why dilute the absorption of the night I just experienced? I need to reflect. And reflection bring emotions, and emotions bring tears. Happy. Grateful. Awed.

And the reflective ride has a pleasant interruption, a call from Tom Hambridge. Early drummer and producer for Susan Tedeschi. Now Nashville based songwriter and producer. And still drumming. Calling from Tampa, ready to head out with Delbert McClinton on his cruise, and then on the Lynard Skynard cruise a week later. I tell him I am on the ride home from Midnight Ramble. COOL!  who opened, he asked. When I told him Grace, and it was the biggest crowd ever, he was just so delighted...a drummer, HE knows what the Ramble is all about...

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No GPS, I decide to do a run thru approach in the afternoon so I don't have to try and find it in the dark. Good move. Plochman Lane has just a small street sign, and there are no signs for the Studio, just a mailbox #160. I can see it thru the woods, a snowy driveway curves thru the woods to reach it. And when I return at 5:40, I am told I am too early, and have to turn around with instructions to return in 20 minutes when the parking lot opens. And when I do, am perhaps the 8th car in line. They are very organized and ask my name and hand me an orange stickie to wear. It means i am entitled to a seat...and a chance to go stand in the line outside. Mojo appears just after me, as does Carolyn and greppson.(Yellow stickies are SRO and they are legion. Packing the balcony, the corners, the walls, and up in the mezzanine/recording equipment level.)  It is cold, and the winding line of cars grows, headlights shining, like A Field of Dreams.

We are finally let in, coming right into the center row that runs behind the first three row of chairs. Fur is flying ,the Scramble for the Ramble, as people claim seats. There are a few scattered seats reserved, and it looks like a hard time to try to nail 5 seats together, so I claim 5 seats right on the center row, dead center, with the bonus of max legroom on the aisle. SCORE. It is kind of hairy defending these seats, and I am relieved as the recipients claim them minutes before the opener...

The lights dim, and there are a few housekeeping announcements. Biggest one is zero tolerance for pictures. Which will make this show extra special, as, well, words will have to suffice. As if this night needed anything to make it more special..

The opener Little Sammy Davis is 81 and frail in his step and his voice, but brings a simple clarity to his harmonica. The crowd is appreciative of the history lesson delivered and he and Fred Scribner leave after a sweet little six song set to sustained applause.

•	The "stage" is backed by a 8 foot slate stone wall, SRO's standing and hanging over this mezzanine level behind the performers. Mojo has a prime spot here. A baby grand and the B-3 are on the left side, and on the right side, facing the keys, are Levon's drums. There is a 3 foot aisle immediately behind the drums that peeps can freely pass to reach the mezz level….and where The Nocs camp for Levon's set. There are three rows of chairs facing the "stage", the aforementioned aisle, and another 4-5 rows of chairs in front of a working firplace along the back wall. In the back, there is a single staircase that leads up the balcony area. From there, you can get to standing areas that overlook the keys on one side and the drums on the other. Visiting these spots after the show when they are empty strikes me that there is a lot of standing room served by a single staircase. And a single bathroom... 

The demand for tickets was unprecedented, and they squeezed in as many as they could...and they erupt when the Nocs take the stage, to no roses tonight, but no flannel either. Grace and Cat in short dresses, guys in slacks and vests. Grace tells the crowd "It is the thrill of a lifetime to be here"

Highlights/set list tonight:  The sound where we sit is perfect. So is Grace's voice tonght... Stage is tight enought that Cat and her mic are set back behind Benny

Joey: Grace howls, Scott growls

Medicine; Bouncy

Mary: Miss Cat on the front line!

Money: "This piano is so big I gotta play it"  {Thought we might get an Allen Room version of Apologies}

Goodbye Kiss: Matt flourishes, Cat's harmonies are clear and spectacular. Grace announces Benny's birthday and gives him a big hug as he grins. Brenny’s Dad has one of the positions on the wall just above his son. This must be a special evening for him, as well!  He gave Benny his first guitar at age 5 and only let him play Bob Dylan…and here he is at Levon Helm’s, who was Dylans drummer on his 1965 tour…

Long Road: New one for the Woodstockians

BWG: for my grandmother. No good mother, no good wife. Not sure she knew it was about her

Paris: before this song, Grace noted that it was also Justin, Jrs. birthday. "Got a chance to wear a fancy black buttondown shirt. And got a pretty cute girl with him" Some one yelled out that it was his sister. "This is a song about what you don't do with your sister"

NBTW: Without question, the clearest, cleanest, quietest, most pristine a capella open ever heard. Not a single sound, cough, or chair scrape. Not a note from the band, not even a little cymbal shimmer by Matt. Truly breath taking. as in hold your breath to maintain the silence. and then quickly into part II

Feel Like Makin Love: Encore: {I guess 'Woodstock' would have been too much of a cliche} Scott nicely on B-3, but Birthday Boy Benny got the longest and most sustained solo since joining The  Nocs. Clean and clear and long. Happy Birthday, Big Boy!

And with that, and lots of high fives, and fist bumps, They disappeared downstairs.....

And what a prelude to Levon Helm Band!!

Four piece horn section, led I feel, by trombone (!), Brian Michaels on keys, Byron Isaacs on bass, Jim Wheeler on guitar (from the last iteration of The Band), Theresa Williams and the might I add fetching Amy Helms on vocals, and triple+ threat Larry Campbell on guitar, vocals, and and a simply amazing violin. Oh yea, Levon on drums, mandolin, and vocals on Tennesee Jed and a verse of The Weight.

And they opened with The Shape I'm In.  I got to hear Levon Helm Band, in Woodstock, NY, in his studio, do Shape, Across the Great Divide, CHEST FEVER! what a nice open to that song. Got to hear heaven in the trio of Larry, Theresa and Amy sing "Attic of my Life" with just acoustic guitar. Got a taste of New Orleans with Such a Night, as well as a touch of Old Mexico...

The Nocs spent the set right behind Levon, delighting in every note. Just grins on the faces of each and every one. And though there is a strict no bottle rule, right in a quiet spot Grace popped the cork on some champagne, drawing laughs and grins from Levon just feet away. As LHB prepped for final song, The Weight, Levon called for as many Nocturnals as can fit on the stage. Grace and Matt took the third mic up front, Benny grabbed an acoustic, and Scott was content to just sing along off mic next to Benny in the back. Cat commandeered the upright, grabbing the neck from a surprised Byron Isaac. I'd be willing to bet she smiled and said "get fucked"

A special night, that I didn't want to end...and stayed until everybody left. Matt was clearly psyched post show, but clear minded enough decline the bottle of champagne Sparky had brought for celebration.."I hear the cops are brutal around here after dark" and it got saved for the hotel later. And so Matt, this special night drew to a close. This Bud's champagnes for you!!

