Now THAT's an Entrance - Leon Redbone Live circa 1990

An ode to the great Leon Redbone who I was privileged to see live at the Musician's Exchange in Fort Lauderdale, Florida - Circa 1990

I recount this here because it was one of my greatest memories that I don’t want slipping away from me. I saw Leon Redbone... I'm going to guess it was late 80's early 90's... at the Musician's Exchange's brand new digs in down town Ft. Lauderdale beside the Discovery Zone and museum. They used to have a dingy little bar with 7' ceilings down Sunrise Blvd... a place I'd seen the likes of Buckwheat Zydaco and other random well know and not so well known local acts… but they'd recently grown up, and apparently came into some money and opened this slick new venue in the heart of the Fort Lauderdale at the end of Los Olas Boulevard. Quite high-brow considering from whence they came. And Leon Redbone, if I remember correctly, was one of the first acts to open there and I was not about to miss it.

We were in the audience waiting for the show to start, about a half hour late at this point, when this tiny man in a crumpled white suit, round sun glasses and big panama hat walks from the back of the room to the stage to a tepid smattering of applause, half the audience not really sure if that was him. But it was and for some reason, he was eschewing the usual backstage entrance for this less than formal introduction devoid of any pomp or pageantry. 

He stumbled through the middle of the crowd, knocking people with his guitar case... "sorry... sorry..." he'd mumble as he moseyed up to the stage. I’m not entirely sure why a mosey is, but I imagine it was much like I was witnessing. When he got up to the 3 foot high stage, he set his guitar upon it and stood there for a few moments, looking left, and then right to assess the task before him. He clearly had not thought this all the way through as there were steps at either side of the stage but apparently he was unaware of them from his vantage point at the dead center of the stage in the middle of the audience. So he decided to give it a go from there. He proceeds to put 1 foot up on the stage and lunges, trying to push himself up with his back foot. Nope. After a few feeble attempts, it became clear to everyone that the stage was simply too high for this short, aging fellow. It seemed that he was about to give up when he turned to his right and addressed the people sitting at the front table, “a little help if you would please”, ever so kindly and politely, in his gravely drawl that you could barely hear much less discern.

What looked to be a husband and wife team seemed game and got up to help, but they were not really sure how they would help. He seemed to have a plan that he was seemingly reluctant to share with anyone and after all 3 of them fumbling around a bit, he still couldn't get up there even with their help. So the husband took control of the situation and got up on the stage and grabbed his hand and pulled while the wife pushed from behind with limited success if not a renewed sense of optimism. Then on the count of 3, the husband pulled, the wife pushed and Leon hopped up on the stage to a rousing round of applause and laughter and equal parts relief that the "Star of the Show" had finally arrived on stage.

As the helpful couple sat down, Leon stood there composing himself and looked out at the audience, much like a cat would that had just done something stupid, but trying to act like it didn’t happen. He straightened his jacket, tilted his big panama hat - just right, then looks around if to say "I wonder if anyone saw that?" He then opened his guitar case and pulls out this beat up old wooden acoustic guitar that looked like it'd seen a few thousand night clubs.

He then sits down, adjusts his pants shifting in his seat, straightens his coat again, tilts his hat again - just right, and crossed his right leg over his left, and paused to revel in the idea that "I made it!". Every movement he made seemed methodical and deliberate yet, very natural. The waitress, as if on cue, then brings him a drink. "Thank you sweet pea" you could hear him mumble. It was a plain tumbler with about an inch of golden spirits in it and nothing else. Then he makes small talk with her and though you couldn't tell exactly what they were saying, it was clear that he was hitting on her. After a minute or so, she turns to walk away clearly blushing while she giggled and looked back over her shoulder at this man who had to be twice her age. He matches her gaze and with a smirk on his face, leans into the mic, and says confidently, "she'll be back". More laughter. It's clear at this point that the show has indeed started, despite the fact that the evening though repeat with laughter, was devoid of music.

So now he picks up his guitar, places it in his lap, and we all settle in for some tunes classic Redbone tunes. But not so fast. In fact, NOTHNG is fast. It's then that he begins to tune his guitar. Now... I KNOW he knows how to tune his guitar as the man is a brilliant musician, but he seemed to go out of his way to make this a most painful and uncomfortable experience for anyone within earshot. He would tune painstakingly on 1 string for an inordinate amount of time, pausing occasionally to light up a smoke and sip his drink, which he returned to the small wooden side table beside him, that looked like it was recently picked out of the trash. Everything he did, he did ever so slowly, deliberately and precisely and with nary a sound… then back to tuning that same string. 

After he got 3 strings tuned, he took the time to gaze mindlessly into the rafters... deep in thought about 'who knows what' for a good minute or so. Then, as if woken from a dream, he'd turn his attention back to his guitar... "ding ding ding, twang twang twang, pluck pluck pluck"... intentionally and mercilessly doing a very bad job of tuning. After about 3 more minutes of this... he looks up, and, as it seemed for the first time, he'd just realized that an entire crowd of people were in the same room looking directly at him! What's more, they seem to be waiting for something. Realizing this, he nods as to acknowledge that he now knows that we're all sitting there, then he tips his hat politely, leans into the mic again, takes an audible breath, waits about 5 seconds before saying, "ya'll just talk among yourselves for a while." Laughter erupts again. No one in that room was in any hurry to do anything at that point as he had slowed the entire universe down to Leon-time. The whole persona of Leon Redbone had been cast over the room like fairy dust and we all settled into what ever was coming, come what may. He continued to tune for at least 2 more minutes, each second funnier than the last, but eventually, and ever so cleverly, the tuning turned into rhythm, and the rhythm morphed into melody, and before you knew it... he was effortlessly singing 'Polly Wally Doodle' and the show had officially begun.

Eventually the rest of the band joined him on stage featuring a fellow playing the biggest saxophone I'd ever seen (pictured above), and man, what a sound. It was indeed an evening filled with magical music and tall story telling as spun by a master of his craft, but what I was most left with was that of ALL the shows I've ever been to, big or small, far and wide... that was, by far, the best entrance I'd ever witnessed!