no shave for dave

You may already be familiar with the sounds of Harmonica Dave Dupont. A bearded dreadlocked old sage of a dude, you can find him downtown during the warm seasons, busquing on sunny days before wandering off to Atlantic City or New Orleans or Athens, Ga., to work the mingling masses for tips with his trusty blue harmonica improvisations. Although somewhat vagabond in appearance, Dave is realistic and well-spoken, and the New York native agreed to talk with me on Dogwood Festival Parade morning about his variation on bardism. As I sought refuge from the sprawl of middle school marching bands and Drug "Awareness" Units ("Know where I can score a twenty?") churning in the noonday sun, Dave offered up his views...

Oh man. The S.H.I.T.

Last November, while vigorously scouring the used CD bin at Plan 9 like a walrus at a tainted stream, I stumbled across a promo copy of a 1984 Flying Fish CD with a picture of two distinguished looking gentlemen on it. One was credited with playing the harmonica, the other, Bowling Green. Virginia, that is.

The disc was John Cephas and Phil Wiggins' Dog Days of August, and with a couple of Skip James covers, a couple of Rev. Gary Davis Jr. covers, and a couple originals put together in the stripped clean country blues and harmonica style that makes such great sunny afternoon music, the record quickly became a staple of my collection. Imagine my delight when I discovered the duo were coming to Charlottesville's deluxe acoustic emporium, the Prism Coffeehouse.

Cephas and Wiggins were already onstage when I arrived, warming up for the first set's radio broadcast with a couple of informal numbers. If you've never been to a Saturday evening concert at the Prism, you've got to check it out. There's something very exciting about waiting for the cue to applaud and knowing that your whistles and yells are being broadcast all over central Va. It makes you feel like you're backstage at some important event. Which you are. Duh.

messrs. wiggins and cephas

The show pushed along like a freight train of blue acoustic revelation. John Cephas is a celebrated statesman of Piedmont and Delta blues, and he laid out his originals and arrangements of the tunes of his forbearers (Blind Boy Fuller, Blind Lemon Jefferson, Blind Blake-- you know, the blind guys.) with the sophisticated southern soul that is his trademark. A testament to his place in acoustic blues was the recent introduction of a John Cephas signature model by Taylor guitars, which he proudly showed off between sets.

His cohort Phil Wiggins is nothing short of the finest harmonica player I've ever heard, a man who can squeeze infinite varieties of tones out of a $20.00 instrument. The power of his playing does not convey on record like it does live, where he showed himself to be a true wizard capable of amazing feats of virtuosic bluesmanship. A definite highlight of the show was the encore, penned and sung by Wiggins, "Cool Down," an admonishment against violence of the type witnessed at the National Zoo a couple weeks back: "Well this morning headlines read/ four more precious children dead/ before one more drop is shed/ better let your blood cool down."
-C.D.
cripsyduck@mindspring.com