Roger McGuinn Live At The Englert Theatre In Iowa City

“So, what did you think of the show?” A middle-aged man asked his son as they walked from the Roger McGuinn show in Iowa City Friday night.

“There was a lot of old people there.” The youngster observed, prompting a laugh from his father.

“Yes, there was.” The father replied, still laughing, acknowledging the obvious that his 13 year-old stated.

The Englert Theatre is a small, intimate setting that was filled with bundles of aging hippies, prompting this forty-something to be on the younger demographic of the audience, for the first time in forever.
Perhaps I’m stereotyping too much, as the room contained an equal share of long, grey hairs with male pattern baldness types, yuppies, dudes in overalls, and even a few that required the aid of a walker.

I’m seeing this more and more as I scramble to fill in the gaps of those “must see” performers as they themselves age alongside their audience. Occasionally, the aging process is noticeable in some of these performers, but not McGuinn. While there are a few more lines on his face, his voice and abilities as a guitarist are strong and firm. I could tell very little difference in his vocal abilities from those Byrds records of old and I’m very confident after hearing a stunning, acoustic version of “Eight Miles High” that he’s a better guitarist now as he’s ever been.

The irony is that McGuinn’s current show wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for his age. For two hours, he gives an autobiographical account of his five decades in music, complete with explanations on those that influenced him and how he incorporated those influences into his own originals and arrangements.

It’s an amazing story, beginning with his first transistor to the first time he heard Elvis Presley while riding his bicycle around Chicago. That spark prompted a request for a guitar, and the rest is history.

Before the age of 21, McGuinn had seen and done more things than most musicians had done in a lifetime. As Roger recited these accounts, he’d riff on the various songs he performed during this time, paying close attention to the various styles of folk he learned while dutifully demonstrating guitar techniques and chord progressions. He’d name drop those musicians that he encountered while “paying his dues,” prompting the crowd to audibly gasp “Oooh!” and “Wow!” at points, verbally expressing amazement at how this young man from Chicago was able to navigate through such talent at such a young age.

It was the way things were done back then, he explained. Performers would call up coffee houses and venues to pass information to other performers. Without the tools that we take for granted today, the performers would leave messages with bartenders to pass along to other artists. For my generation, it sounded like the D.I.Y. punk network of the 80’s, where people took care of one another.

For McGuinn, this folk network provided him with lots of opportunities.

“You can still see some of those television performances of me singing alongside the Chad Mitchell Trio on YouTube!” he advised us, before telling the audience that he was fine with us recording parts of the show that evening, giving us his permission to upload it on to YouTube ourselves. It’s clear that McGuinn understood that it order for his legacy to survive with other generations, he needs to have it preserved in their preferred format.

Before long, Bobby Darin notice McGuinn's talents and decided he would pay him double his current salary just to entertain his interest in the burgeoning folk scene.

Darin’s health always plagued him during his career, and when a turn for the worse kept Bobby off the road, he started a production company in New York’s legendary Brill Building where he gave McGuinn a few radios and told him to write songs like the ones being played on the local top 40 outlets.

On one day in particular, McGuinn heard “I Want To Hold Your Hand” for the first time, and the idea of applying that Merseybeat rhythm to traditional folk songs became the blueprint for what is his most notorious role, the frontman for The Byrds.

Playing folk songs like the Beatles didn’t win him many accolades in the beginning, but it did grab the attention of Gene Clark. The duo then caught the attention of “a chubby kid” by the name of David Crosby who asked to join the band.

“But David,” McGuinn offered, “we aren’t a band yet.”

With the addition of Chris Hillman and Michael Clarke (who got the job as drummer because of his resemblance to Brian Jones; he’d never played drums before) the Byrds auditioned for an A&R guy who was far from impressed.

His daughter was, however, and he mentioned his daughter’s immediate infatuation to the Byrds’ audition to Miles Davis. The jazz great hinted that teenagers are good harbingers as to what would be popular, and that bit of advice led to a recording contract with Columbia records.

The Byrds didn’t just change the world of rock music once, but twice. The first time came when Crosby told McGuinn that the Dylan song they were working on-“Mr. Tambourine Man”-was too fast. McGuinn slowed it down, added a Bach piece for the introduction (he demonstrated the technique during Friday night’s performance), picked a few verses to narrow it down to two-and-a-half minutes, and let the engineer compress his Rickenbacker guitar sound to death to achieve that jingle-jangle mornin’ sound that the band is known for.

The second change came when half of the band split and McGuinn and Hillman sought out some new players. The Byrds new line-up took the band from “folk-rock” originators to “country-rock” pioneers, although McGuinn points out that even “Mr. Spaceman” had a bit of country and bluegrass in its finger-picking style.

I could go on, but it would pale to Roger’s wonderful storytelling and music examples. He recites each tale with enthusiasm and heartfelt antidotes. His stories are peppered with humor and the same kind of wonderment that he must have felt when he first heard “Heartbreak Hotel.”

You can see the joy in every cover version of his influences and the big smile he gives after each Byrd hit is an appreciative gesture at those who’ve stuck with him throughout the 50 years of professional performances.

The show is an educational experience, one that sadly wasn’t shared by younger music fans. While the show was at least 75% full, the venue was an intimate one, a performance that should have been sold out months ago. Instead, I was able to pick my own seat (there really isn’t a decent view in this venue) and have a clear view of the performance for only twenty-five bucks.

Meanwhile, a band like The Eagles-who owe their entire existence to The Byrds-charge four times that amount for nosebleed seats and by-the-numbers performances. What’s wrong with this picture?

The stage is merely a seated McGuinn, accompanied by a banjo, a six-string acoustic, a seven-string acoustic-his own Martin edition that sounds incredible, a twelve string acoustic, and the obligatory Rickenbacker. His low-key endorsement of his own Martin 7-string made me immediately put in on my list of dream guitars. And while I don’t buy his claim that I can play it just like him “right out of the box” as he jokingly states, it was the sounds he was able to generate from the guitar’s unique harmonics that had me drooling for one.

It just didn’t seem right that such an intimate and enjoyable performance from one of rock’s most influential artists could be had at such a value. And because of such a low expense, it seems like more of those in attendance would want to do exactly like that gentlemen did with his son that I witnessed walking from the venue afterwards. Perhaps with a bit more age diversity, the younger attendees would be able to focus on more than the geriatric make-up of the crowd.

This is heady stuff! It’s the kind of performance that’s suited for those like me who relish how rock and roll music can ignite a desire to trace the roots in the tree of music. McGuinn’s tour not only demonstrates how the tree that he created is in great shape, but it also shows how strong the roots are too. Why wouldn’t we want to pass down this knowledge to make sure the tree that Roger McGuinn created is being well maintained by younger listeners?

Hopefully the next time Roger goes through town, his ticket will be more in demand than the cuttings that his music created.