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High Fidelity
Then that "On the Air" sign lit up in red. With his reading glasses in one hand and some papers in the other, Groce (pronounced "gross") stepped up to the mike and, along with vocalist Julie Adams, sang the theme for the show. I couldn't believe it. I didn't think that happened anymore. Isn't it all done electronically somehow?
It all seemed so, well, Andrews Sisters. Groce stopped near the end of the song and let Ridenour jump in to announce the evening's performers.
  Larry Groce, host of the public radio show "Mountain Stage," points to the audience during an August taping in Charleston, W. Va. Below left, performers gather on the stage at the West Virginia Cultural Center. (Photos By Brian Blauser) |
"Mountain Stage" has been around since 1983 and went national three years later; Groce has been the host the entire time. The audience ranged from thirties on up. (Way up. Kuryla, 45, brought his seventyish parents.)
Teng, in jeans and a tank top, was the first up, playing piano and performing songs from her new album, "Dreaming Through the Noise," accompanied by violin and viola. The moment she finished her set, she was gone. A bunch of guys in black shirts scurried about on stage moving Teng's instruments off and replacing them with those from Sheik's band.
Meanwhile, Adams, the house singer, was back at the mike. I'm not sure whether it was to keep us busy and quiet or if it will be part of the show. I won't know until October, when it's aired.
Then Sheik was ready to roll, on a stage cluttered with instruments and equipment. Mapfumo followed.
Political Washingtonians would have appreciated Smither's songs. Or maybe just Democratic Washingtonians. He described one song called "Diplomacy" as a brief, unflattering overview of the State Department.
Finally McCain appeared making bad-boy jokes about an appearance on "Dr. Phil." "He was calling me Mr. McCain all the time. The only time they ever do that is when they're saying, 'Step out of the car.' " He got the audience singing along on one refrain. The words weren't hard: da da da da da.
The show finale was the charmer. All the performers came onstage. Groce handed them the words to "Eleanor Rigby." They began a "We Are the World"-type rendition of the Beatles classic -- only they were fumbling along because they had rehearsed it only once that afternoon. Groce pointed to various singers to indicate that they should solo on a verse. Smither, McCain and Sheik were downstage singing the chorus, "All the lonely people."
Then it was over and they were gone. Just like that. No encores. No Bic lighters or illuminated cellphones to bring them back. The lights came up.
Audience member Steve Combs, who had been sitting next to me, said, "It's the bargain of the century." His girlfriend, Peri Shaw, and I nodded in agreement.
People filed out and within a few minutes the auditorium was empty. Outside, Teng was signing copies of her CD, talking about how much she enjoyed the other performances. "It's fun to play four or five songs and then listen to everyone else. I'm in the wings dancing."
The next day, I got into my car for the eye-grabbing mountain drive back home, loaded with three newly purchased "Mountain Stage" CDs. It's not quite live radio, but I'll stay tuned.
