The Sam Grisman Project—Sam is center—played Park City Music Hall, in Bridgeport, Conn., on March 9. Photo by John W. Barry.
Musician, band leader, vocalist and bass player Sam Grisman seems to be a very happy guy.
He doesn’t come across to me as an over-the-top happy guy, like someone running around the room telling everyone how happy he is. Sam to me is more of a “Yeah, ain’t life grand? And I’m gonna be even happier than I already am by doing something I love so much that I wanna share it with as many people as I can”-kinda-guy.
That’s the Sam Grisman I crossed paths with recently, on a Daylight Savings Sunday at Park City Music Hall, on an unassuming street in Bridgeport, Conn. Well, we didn’t actually cross paths. He was performing with his band, the Sam Grisman Project, and I was in the audience.
It’s funny how you can form an opinion of someone just by seeing photos of them. Take, for example, the photos I had seen of Sam prior to embarking on a glorious road trip to see the Sam Grisman Project deliver a critically-essential evening of life-affirming live music. The one thing I kept saying to myself, after seeing photo after photo, was, “Wow, this cat seems very genuinely happy, like on a very deep level of happy.”
So as I drove to Bridgeport I kept telling myself that NO ONE can be as happy as Sam Grisman appears to be in these pictures I was seeing. No way, no how.
But I arrived for the gig and as I stood inside one of the most aligned music venues I’ve ever stood in, surrounded by my Deadhead brothers and sisters, I was delighted to gaze upon the stage and see for myself, first-hand, that yeah, Sam Grisman, live and in person, comes across as a really happy dude. And that made me happy. And all I could think of, was, right on and how about a round of applause for us all.
Yes, I was dazzled to be watching Sam, whose father is mandolin virtuoso David Grisman. The elder Grisman played the mandolin solo on the Grateful Dead’s “Friend of the Devil,” on their 1970 album, “American Beauty.” David Grisman has also performed live and recorded with the Grateful Dead’s late lead guitarist and vocalist, Jerry Garcia. I loved how David Grisman drew out a side of Garcia that was completely different from what I saw when he played with the Grateful Dead. Very cool.
Sam Grisman led his band, the Sam Grisman Project, through a compelling and inspiring performance at Park City Music Hall, in Bridgeport, Conn., on March 9. Photo by John W. Barry.
But for all his famous lineage, and how cool is it that Sam Grisman’s father was tight with Jerry, the younger Grisman does his own thing entirely. And he does it with a singular sense of place and identity. The performance I attended in Bridgeport was generous of spirit, communal, visionary and downright entertaining. We all had a lot of fun. And did I mention how happy I was?
The Sam Grisman Project performed cover songs familiar to this crowd with Grateful Dead-leanings, including the Grateful Dead’s “Brown-Eyed Women,” “Birdsong” and “Built to Last;” as well as the Jerry Garcia Band’s “Cats Under the Stars.” I loved it all so much.
But it was the audible that someone in the band surely called when it came to performing Eddie Rabbit’s “Drivin’ My Life Away.” The timing was impeccable. This band read the room with a magnifying glass and somehow turned a sensational night into a sensational night with a left turn into a good old-fashioned throw-down. You just had to be there to hear us all singing these lyrics, which you surely remember:
“Well, the midnight headlight blind you on a rainy night/Steep grade up ahead, slow me down, makin' no time.
“But I gotta keep rollin.’
Those windshield wipers slappin' out a tempo/Keepin' perfect rhythm with the song on the radio-o-o.
“But I gotta keep rollin.'
“Ooh, I'm drivin' my life away/Lookin' for a better way for me.
“Ooh, I'm drivin' my life away/Lookin' for a sunny day.”
I’ve often heard how the biggest personality in a band, or the front man or woman, or the person with the most famous background or lineage, can “surround themselves with great musicians.” I never really liked that phrasing. And the Sam Grisman Project took things in a completely opposite direction. I would say that each member of this ensemble has surrounded themself with the best musicians. The Sam Grisman Project is a group effort. Yeah, Sam is steering the ship, but everyone is there on the bridge with him, hanging out.
The Sam Grisman Project played Park City Music Hall, in Bridgeport, Conn., on March 9. Photo by John W. Barry.
I’d also like to say that Sam’s bass playing really left an impression on me. I’m of the mind that sometimes the best bass players are the ones we don’t hear. The low-end notes they play are processed by our unconscious and generate moments where we feel good, but we don’t know why we feel good. I found that Sam was very selective as to when the audience heard his bass playing, and when we didn’t. This cat-and-mouse-shape-shifting just added depth and dimension to the whole Sam Grisman Project space capsule soaring through the universe.
But at the same time, Sam, who seems to me as regular a guy as they come, despite his travels through outer space, will always, always, always be the happiest guy I know in Bridgeport, Connecticut.
Thanks for sharing your Sunday night with us, Sam. Please come back soon.
no question -- sam grisman project among the best small touring acts out there... and i'll add daniel donato's cosmic country