Of The Caffe Lena And
Stuff-Rosalie Sorrels’ My Last Go Round
CD Review
By Zack James
My Last Go Round, Rosalie
Sorrels and friends, 2002
My old high school friend,
Seth Garth, who went every step of the way with me back in the 1960s into the
Cambridge folk and coffeehouse scene since we lived in next town Arlington
reminded me recently that we had spread our folk wings further than Cambridge
and its rather boisterous scene. We had taken a few trips down to Mecca, to
Greenwich Village in New York City and imbibed the full effect there. But the folk
minute while it didn’t survive the British invasion and the rise of “acid” rock
to grab young ears also had little outposts in places that one would not assume
such music would have much play, at least back then. Seth and I had made a trip
to Saratoga in those days to see a cousin of his who was going to Skidmore
College. One Saturday night he took us to the Caffe Lena in that town, a small,
a very small coffeehouse (still there unlike many other more famous venues
which went under when the folk tide ebbed), run by a wild old woman, Lena, who
single-handedly ran the place, kept the folk minute alive in that region, kept
many a budding folkie from Arlo Guthrie to the McGarrigle Sisters. It was there
that we first saw that night Rosalie Sorrels singing up songs of protest and
blues, singing some stuff by a guy named Bruce Phillips, later to be called
more famously Utah Phillips.
All of this a roundabout
way of introducing the CD under review, My Last Go Round, a live
album of her last public performance along with some of her friends at the
Saunders Theater at Harvard in 2002 which Seth and I both attended with our
wives who in their own ways had imbibed the folk minute in other locale (Ann
Arbor and Berkeley). She had decided to give up the road, to stick closer to
home, so had invited his friends from Caffe Lena and other roads to come and
perform. Invited those who were still standing and who could make it. Unfortunately
the legendary Dave Van Ronk one of the key figures in the budding folk movement
in New York in the late 1950s who was supposed to perform had passed away a few
weeks before (to be replaced by the still standing now David Bromberg) which
placed a damper on the proceedings.
It was at this performance
that Seth and I (along with the our wives) first took stock than those who
stood tall in that 1960s folk minute were starting to pass on and that we had better
see performances of whoever was left standing as best we could. We additionally,
as we sat in the Café Algiers on Brattle Street after the performance for a
late night coffee and pastry (some things never change for that was the bill of
fare in the old days when we, low on funds, gravitated to the coffeehouses for
cheap dates in high school and college) got into an animated conversation about
who did, and who did not, still have “it.” Have a spark of that old time
ability to draw a crowd to them. David Bromberg did (and does after a fairly
recent performance seen at a Boston venue where he blew the crowd away with his
music and a very fine back-up band. And yes, very much yes, Rosalie Sorrels
still had it that night at the Saunders Theater. Listen up.
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