Snake Suspenderz: Jass, hokum and novelty tunes from a quartet featuring trombone and ukelele (and that's ookulele to you, buster) along with bass and drums. What's not to love? Don't answer that.|
The Klez Katz: Stalwart warriors of the klezmer revival, playing eastern European Jewish blues with a healthy dose of mainstream jazz thrown in. One of the few places where I can be a total trombonick and even get paid for it.
John McClure: Unassuming yodeling cowboy singer-songwriter satirist fingerpicker that I started out jamming with in the past by time machine and developed into a part-time partnership in the present, with a robust future indicated. Wait, what?
The New Old Time Chautauqua: Dear friends and companions of the road, bringing hippie culture and artistic mayhem to the altogether too-well-washed masses. My principal charity and a heck of a show.
The Emerald City Jug Band: Reprobate refugees from the Great Folk Scare or even earlier, desperately grasping at any straws to keep a washboard player in their band. Cut the begging, guys, it's pathetic.
Tribal Voices: Wild-ass hippies in various random assortments playing whatever they feel like on anything they can get their hands on. My kind of party. A Seattle tradition since 1994.
Eric "Two Scoops" Moore: Obviously the product of a secret government recombinant DNA program crossing a Nawlins piano professor with a pungently hilarious singer/songwriter, Scoops is capable of knocking you down with his vibrant keyboard work, picking you back up with his humor and then cracking your heart like an egg with a heartfelt slow blues.
Baby Gramps: What can you say about someone who's been on Letterman? He's the one and only, and that's for crying out loud sure. I've been jamming intermittantly with the man since 1976, and this is one case where I'll name-drop without a speck of embarassment.
Mercedes Nicole: Sweet, swinging, sexy and elegant jazz singer with a variety of cool sidemen. My chief reference for being a Bona Fide Cat.