I will always remember the first time I saw y’all at Shakori playing a late night set at the Cabaret Tent. I was at the campsite, banking the fire, about to go down, but I’m hearing horns and something that sounds like a carnie Caruso, belting out a demented opera. I was sooo tired, but the music wouldn’t let go. I threw some beers in a cooler and trudged on over to find that it really was a circus—trumpets, trombones, costumes and a crowd of diehards going nuts. I gladly joined the fray and then never left. So many good times back at Shakori, Local 506, Motorco, and the Cradle. Y’all played your hearts out for every show I saw and I’ll miss you so much.
The DBRS is a lot like the movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life” for me. Maybe like George Bailey you didn’t get rich, but a lot of people are richer for having heard your music. I can’t tell you how many lousy days where the work grind and pressures of being the breadwinner got better after a DBRS show, dancing with abandon, and getting a big “Thanks for coming out” hug from a sopping wet Charlie/Bootsy/Noah. And if it weren’t for y’all I would have never met some really cool people. On behalf of Debra, myself and my kids, I thank y’all so much for the music and memories—both will live on.
I will always remember the first time I saw y’all at Shakori playing a late night set at the Cabaret Tent. I was at the campsite, banking the fire, about to go down, but I’m hearing horns and something that sounds like a carnie Caruso, belting out a demented opera. I was sooo tired, but the music wouldn’t let go. I threw some beers in a cooler and trudged on over to find that it really was a circus—trumpets, trombones, costumes and a crowd of diehards going nuts. I gladly joined the fray and then never left. So many good times back at Shakori, Local 506, Motorco, and the Cradle. Y’all played your hearts out for every show I saw and I’ll miss you so much.
The DBRS is a lot like the movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life” for me. Maybe like George Bailey you didn’t get rich, but a lot of people are richer for having heard your music. I can’t tell you how many lousy days where the work grind and pressures of being the breadwinner got better after a DBRS show, dancing with abandon, and getting a big “Thanks for coming out” hug from a sopping wet Charlie/Bootsy/Noah. And if it weren’t for y’all I would have never met some really cool people. On behalf of Debra, myself and my kids, I thank y’all so much for the music and memories—both will live on.