Something happened to me last night. It happened a few weeks ago on Rick's rooftop terrace the first time I saw Peter Nolan play the blues. And then last night, Peter was at the American Cafe doing it again. It's not just his talent as a musician, it's the sincerity, the authenticity, that takes me beyond "just listening to some tunes" to someplace more spiritual. Peter Nolan takes me to church.
His musical heroes are guys like Robert Johnson and Mississippi John Hurt. He's even made a couple pilgrimages from his home in Canada to Mississippi to sit on porches, sip sweet tea, and play music with the people who call the Delta their home. It's this area that historians believe to be the birthplace of blues, consequently shaping and developing much of modern music today. And when Peter sings these old Delta songs, his love for the people and stories is palpable.
I heard Peter play three times when he was in town and was lucky enough to sit with him for a couple hours to talk about life and God and art and about how all those things come together in stories that need to be told.
I put this video together. This will have to hold us over until he gets tired of the cold and comes back for another visit. Hurry back, Peter.