New sound, no silence; Garfunkel shines in Knox

Anticipation mounted.

You knew it was coming. The only question was when. And then:

Hello, darkness, my old friend;
I've come to talk with you again...

I hit my knee with my hand, not to keep time, but to reassure myself that I was six or eight rows back from Art Garfunkel, hearing a song that has long haunted my life.

He was here in Knox Vegas last night at the town's best acoustic venue, the intimate, inviting Bijou Theatre. And, oh, how the memories quickly mounted.

Even without Paul Simon, Garfunkel was great. More than great. He was grand, and I'll tell you why. Art Garfunkel has recovered from a vocal cord problem. That voice, the soaring voice that took us on the "Bridge Over Troubled Water," was nearly silenced.

No, no. Art worked hard. It healed.

And he went back on the road. It's just him, a guitarist, and occasional appearances by his son Art Jr. When father and son sang together, oh, boy. Oh, boy.

In between songs, he interspersed pieces of poetry he's written. So, when he took questions, I asked him which poet inspires him. His answer? Dylan Thomas. Makes sense, doesn't it?

Somebody told him that Phil Everly, whom we lost last month, went to West High School. He didn't know that, liked it, and paid homage to Phil and Don, whose harmonies influenced everybody from Garfunkel and Simon (I feel like reversing that order for once!) to John, Paul, George and Ringo.

Time marches on, as it must. Garfunkel looks like an accountant who's nearing retirement. Gone is the big hair and the tall, slender physique.

But that voice? It endures.

Garfunkel got standing ovations for "The Sound of Silence" and "Bridge."

No, he didn't go for the gold at the end of the latter song. That's OK. He didn't have to.

He's already been there.

Black Lillies triumphant at Bijou

Every now and then, if you're blessed or just plain lucky, you'll find yourself in a theater filled to capacity. The atmosphere? Electric. The music? Magic.

It happened last night at the Bijou with the Black Lillies. Sold out. Super.

I was in the Old City nearly two years ago when I first heard Cruz Contreras (nee of the CCStringband fame) open up his mouth and sing. Having only heard his picking from his years leading the band for Robinella, my jaw dropped and my butt nearly hit the floor when he began his unique country crooning.

Oh, it's country, and then again, it isn't. This is Americana at its finest, music that needs no label, songs that stand alone.

You can read elsewhere about the band's history and personnel changes. Here, I will talk about last night, which will last with me for a long, long time.

It was a concert and a celebration, a release party, in fact, for the band's new CD, "100 Miles of Wreckage." Oh, how they jammed, Cruz and Jamie Cook and Robert Richards and Trisha Gene Brady and the terrific Tom Pryor, who plucks that pedal steel like nobody else. Cruz's brother, Billy, stopped by, too, to rosin up his bow.

Cruz and Halls High grad Trisha Gene weaved their harmony into a tapestry of tunes, Appalachian in its honesty. Jill Andrews (nee of the Everybodyfields) popped up, too, to sing her duet "The Arrow" with Cruz, from the new album. Awesome.

The showstopper slipped up on us, as the Lillies made their way to the lip of the stage to accentuate the Bijou's acoustics on "unplugged" renditions of "Go to Sleep" and the band's best single to date, "Whiskey Angel." You know you've made it when the entire audience sings along, even on the verses, no less.

And make it this band will. They must. It would give those who remember what roots music really sounds like a reason to believe in quality amid the crap.

We danced, we pranced and we pined for more. And the band obliged, coming back along with members of the opening act, the New Familiars, to jam on jumpin' versions of The Marshall Tucker Band's "Fire on the Mountain" and Townes Van Zandt's"White Freight Liner Blues."

It was a moment -- and it worked. Nearly religious. Neat.