Richie Havens

There's a group on Facebook called “I should have been at Woodstock” – I joined it because... I should have been there, maaaan. The truth is that’s how I have felt my entire life – not only as a musician, but also as a fan. I was born in the wrong decade (though I must admit I like things like cell phones and Starbucks).

I had a couple “a-ha” moments of musical awakening throughout the years. One was in like 3rd grade when my friend and I unveiled his parents’ Beatles records and set out to uncover the “Paul is dead” message. Somewhere in this pile of memories I have already described my ascent into the music of the Grateful Dead and the trips to the local music store, but another really powerful episode was uncovering the music of Woodstock. I saw the PBS documentary and got the two-cassette box set – Jimi Hendrix, Santana, CSN, and of course Richie Havens. I’ve held Richie Havens up over the years as an icon, an almost mythical reminder of what I missed for nearly two decades.

A couple of years ago I performed with Assembly of Dust at a Joni Mitchell tribute show at Carnegie Hall. Along with the rest of the cluster of artists there to pay respects to Joni Mitchell, and make their mark on Carnegie Hall, was Richie Havens. In a flurry of excitement, festive picture-taking and merry-making, I was able to find a moment in a small green room in the bowels of Carnegie Hall to meet a man who to me, symbolized the musical greatness of an era (and more to the point, one I missed). Richie Havens is in fact, larger than life – beyond the fact that he stands some 6-foot-4, he is a magnanimous and warm person. We chatted for a spell and then found ourselves wisped off into an evening of many introductions and warm embraces.

And so was the case when he walked into the little studio in Katanah, NY on a January day in 2009. He loomed larger than life. The studio technicians nervously erected and rewired mics, the studio owner and I were not sure to sit or stand. Even John Scofield who had stuck around for a couple hours after his session to meet Richie, seemed at a loss for what posture to assume.

When Richie came in he set us all at ease though with a face-splitting grin and soft warm eyes. The truth is, I ceased to exist for close to an hour. Scofield and Richie had never met, but the two poured over a shared musical history and mutual friends. John had seen Richie perform in Greenwich Village in the late 60’s or early 70’s and Richie remembered the exact show. Richie went on to talk about how Stevie Wonder (or Ray Charles – I can’t remember) could recognize him when he walked into a room. It was unclear to me if it was just that they recognized his gate, or felt the larger than life vibe.

The day proceeded and Richie did some eight takes of “All That I am Now.” The performance we ultimately used was maybe the 3rd or 4th but all were good. His voice accurately reveals a man with depth, perspective, and richness of soul.