A Little Piece Of Havens
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By Wesley Joost Folk veteran and 60’s radical Ritchie Havens, famous as the man who opened Woodstock, played an astonishingly energetic two hour plus show at Jack Adams Hall that included life lessons, a busted guitar string, a jump-kick in the air and one hell of a sweaty noggin’. The sagacious heavily-bearded old leftie, dressed in a purple star-embroidered robe similar to the one Mickey Mouse wore in Fantasia, had the enamored crowd hanging on his every word -- and he was in the mood to be generous with his wisdom. “There isn’t a hell of lot left to learn. We already know what will make the world a better place,” said Havens. “And for all you young guys who think your future is in outer space -- we are in outer space. We’re as out there as any other planet.” Havens has an easy demeanor as he talks to the audience, giving them nugget sized anecdotes to introduce his songs; there was never a more perfect candidate for a “VH1 Storytellers” special. “We’ve been on tour since December ’67,” he jokes, reminding them, in case they didn’t already know, that he’s a man steeped in historical perspective. In the 60’s he played almost every college campus in America, building up his support. He’s scheduled to play some stadium dates in England this year but in the US his venue options haven’t changed that much in 30 years. He sang in a strong earthy voice that has hardly frayed over the years and continues to get a signature deep resonance from his open-tuned guitar. His two sidemen, a Frank Zappa look-alike guitar player and a grandfatherly percussionist, gave tasteful accompaniments that allowed Havens to shine. His thick brow bristled intensely as he cooled the audience with tunes of mellow navel gazing, and the occasional mid-song noodle, before landscaping his sounds into a sweeping build up of intense super-fast good vibrations. When the show hit these energetic landmarks – which it did about five times – Havens would walk around the stage, strutting his right leg forward Groucho Marx style and bobbing his head as he lost himself in the primal beat of the moment. “There is blood on the wire,” he urgently pleaded at one high point, because waqr and suffering the world over, he feels, is something we should never forget. In a lighter mood he managed to get the hesitant audience to sing along with “Just Like a Woman,” and later had no trouble getting them to participate in the old clap-along anthem “Freedom,” a song that started as an improvisation on the spiritual “Motherless child” he first played as his encore at Woodstock. The set list spanned his whole career and included choice covers like Bob Dylan’s “Maggie’s Farm,” (he says he used to have to play it in Greenwich Village 13 times a day) and George Harrison’s “Here Comes The Sun.” He also played original songs from his new album like “Alone Together,” a touching ballad about isolation. Finding a good tone on the guitar, Havens smiled and pointed to it, “that’s the one. That’s the one.” But when he sang the lyric “just tell Saint Christopher we’re all on our way,” in a song about starvation in Africa, his body squirmed as his face pinched up like he just made himself cry. It’s this easy ability to share his pain, his humor and his good will that endears Havens to his fans so much.
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