Vapid Landscapes

Dry Mill Road at Lost Rhino Brewing Company in Ashburn, Virginia.

3 October 2012:

Guys my age don't hang out in bars unless they've got a serious drinking problem, a serious loneliness problem, or a serious problem connecting with the opposite sex. It's the stuff of bluegrass music. Add prison-time, chain-gangs, and murdering your girlfriend and you've got the whole shooting match. Last night I found myself at the Lost Rhino Brewing Company in Ashburn, Virginia to catch up with Dry Mill Road, an up-and-coming bluegrass band from the Winchester area. I went mainly to see how an upwardly mobile crowd of suburban professionals would take to this kind of music. The band kicked off at 5:30 in the late afternoon, all part of Lost Rhino's jumpstart on its Oktoberfest activities. I kept asking myself: who's going to show up here on a week-day, 5:30 in the afternoon, and especially on the first night of the presidential debates? I got there at 4:00 and nobody was there. Around here, you plan to get a seat early, because Fairfax County and Loudoun County have the worst traffic tie-ups in the nation; maybe even worse than Bangkok or Manila.

Getting there and finding the place was the hard part. My google mapping wasn't much help. Thankfully, Rhino has some small blue and white signs posted along the way from Route 7 inward, into the morass of suburban sprawl which has engulfed what was once the pastoral landscape that was the basic maneuvering territory for Mosby, Jeb Stuart, and Bobby Lee. Very little of it is left. It's hard to believe that I used to bike out here when the WO&D bike trail was still a dirt path. I recognize nothing. Miles and miles of townhouse developments, strip malls, and strip-mall-one-story warehouse and office spaces in long red-brick lines. It's all called Ashburn Village, in honor of other imitation towns such as Kingstowne, Fairfax Village Center, and Dulles Town Center, and Reston Town Center. I applaud the non-creativity. There's usually no 'town' no 'village' or center to anything. Just another excuse to build a mall. Welcome to flim-flam marketing. On the news last week it was announced that Loudoun County is now the number one, richest county in our area. It's not hard to understand with this kind of out-of-control development. Well, as much as I hate the place, our local economy is booming and we have a lot of highly educated people employed by the high-tech companies that are driving Loudoun County's fortunes.

Customers started rolling in at 5:00. Lots of dockers and polo shirts and even some suits and ties. It's still a mystery to me why the American male can't get it straight: never wear brown shoes with a grey or black suit. Never wear black shoes with a brown suit or brown slacks. Same thing goes for the belt. Didn't their parents teach them better? All that money and . . .  I can't neglect describing the footwear. There were so many males and females wearing flip-flops I thought there must be a bath-house next door. Thank God cold weather is coming. I think of crazy things like this because I'm used to seeing lots of cowboy boots at most of the events I attend. I made a note about the flip-flops and then Sean Loomis and Douglas Ross (band members) showed up wearing cowboy boots. I began to feel like less of an intruder into this surreal painting. I decided to sit there and mind my own business as the crowd got bigger and the talk around me consisted of I-T, Weapons engineering, and other forms of Hi-Tech babble. Other than that, mixed with the alcohol-fed desire to score chicks, the central reason to be there was to drink beer and pretend you were in Bavaria celebrating Oktoberfest. I felt a lot of apprehension for the band. This was not your average bluegrass crowd. I wondered how they ever got the gig in the first place. I was in for an interesting evening.

This is not your average bluegrass band. I've even been questioned by my orthodox bluegrass friends as to why I enjoy them. What I admire in Dry Mill Road is their versatility and their total entertainment package. The longer they play a set the better they get as witnessed between two sets at this performance. The lukewarm, non-bluegrass crowd gently applauded after the first set. Sean Loomis was working hard for his money. The second set included their best material and the crowd started listening (well, mostly - luckily in the crowd were a small number of Dry Mill Road fans and friends to help center the attention, and I also ran into some other customers who at least knew a little bit about the music). On the second song of the second set a young female patron started screaming above the din of the crowd, "Play some Dead! Play some Dead!!" There was some applause. Ah Oh, I thought, here it comes. "Rocky Top" is next. Sean Loomis capitulated and did that song about 'the devil is a friend of mine' or whatever that Grateful Dead song is. Needless to say, I never followed Garcia and his ilk and I don't care. It worked in the band's favor. That over with, good riddance, the audience really came alive for the rest of the set. They were even asked to do two encore numbers. I have a feeling they'll be asked back to play. Maybe the crowd will give up shower slippers and start wearing cowboy boots. From traditional to new to doing their own songs, Dry Mill Road is a 'listening' experience. I'd rather experience them in a place where I can closely listen to what they are doing. The bass guy nevers gets any credit in bluegrass, Dave hurt on bass is one of the best in my book. There is no one real driver in Dry Mill Road. It's an equality of each member recognizing the other guy's talents. That's rare in a band that's been around for such a short time.

After a rough road tour they'll be back at the Barns at Rose Hill in Berryville on October 13th. Tickets are available on-line. Get them quick because the last time they played there they sold out in a short time. After last night's show they packed up immediately and headed for the Big Outer Banks Festival in North Carolina and some gigs in between. They're working hard for the money - and delivering. My reward for the evening was talking with a 30-something who sat near me and intently listened to every song. He turned to me and said, "This is really difficult stuff to play, isn't it? Maybe I should learn more about this kind of music." You got it, son. Another recruit for bluegrass music. Garcia could be heard rolling over in his grave.

Dry Mill Road:  Sean Loomis, guitar. Douglas Ross, mandolin. Robert Mabe, banjo. Dave Hurt, bass.