The Hand-made Tapestries of Bobby Syvarth by Richard Cuccaro

Score another one for Christine Lavin. On October 3rd of 2004, she stepped in for 
John Platt as host of the City Folk Sunday Breakfast show, reprising her role as the 
show's originator. Amidst a group of new discoveries whose work she featured 
was one Bobby Syvarth, a brilliant guitarist/songwriter. She played two Syvarth tracks, 
"Fire in Brooklyn" and "We Shall Return." Both were ear-catching and intriguing, 
propelling a desire in me to hear more from him. I narrowly missed his gig at Columbia 
University's Postcrypt Café but finally caught up to him in November, at the Northeast 
Folk Alliance Conference. I discovered that Bobby was a featured performer in the 
Martin Showcase Room. My eager anticipation was not displaced. Although the tracks 
played on the Breakfast show were recorded with a band, here he played alone. 
I encountered a rugged-looking six-footer, standing at a mic, with a loop device to 
accompany himself.

The performance was jaw-dropping. He's gifted. I'd heard performers use a loop device 
before to accompany themselves live, but not with the precision and subtlety I encountered 
here. There seems to be a metronome embedded in him somewhere.  It's a challenge to 
describe how he weaves these luscious tapestries. As close as I can attempt, it usually 
begins with a funk-laden bass line, gently pulling the listener in, nodding and foot-tapping. 
A few simple chords follow, keeping perfect time to the first pattern. The first two patterns 
are followed by passionately sung lyrics and free-form instrumental breaks that work their 
way up the neck of his guitar. The guitar technique and melodic arrangements are steeped 
in jazz, opening up myriad avenues for expression. At the showcase, he did an amazing 
cover of the Beatles' "Eleanor Rigby," "Fire in Brooklyn," and a few others in a relatively 
short set. While I was most impressed with his work with the loop, he did not rely on it 
exclusively. There were straight-ahead accomplished finger-style performances on certain 
songs as is the case with all his shows.

I spoke with Bobby after his performance and told him I'd like to feature him. He 
enthusiastically agreed to an interview for this spring.  Before the interview, I got a chance 
to hear him again, live, in early March, at The Sidewalk Café in NYC's East Village. 
At the appointed hour, he sat on stage, very relaxed with his boots off, in his socks, tapping 
his feet as he began to play. My notes read:  "Bobby takes the stage and begins laying down 
a funk baseline that feeds into his loop machine It begins to play back as he uses it as a 
counterpoint. The cover of Paul Simon's "Diamonds on the Sole of her Shoes" sounds so 
original it could be his own as the thunka-thump-thump from the original bass line pours 
out of the amp's speaker. He lays down a jazz riff over the top, then sings in a soft 
baritone, ooh-ooing in a falsetto in the appropriate places. Then picking it up, he turns 
on some breakneck arpeggio runs somewhere up around the 16th fret. I can barely 
write fast enough to capture what I'm hearing. He ends the number by bringing down 
the volume and gently fading out."

A non-guitarist (strictly a hacker), I have trouble describing what's happening on every 
level. Bobby uses the complete arsenal of guitar players ' tools: string bends, pull-offs, 
hammer-ons, harmonics, turnarounds, arpeggio runs and on and on. I worry that I'm 
not getting it right. Was that a counterpoint? Or did he just play something in harmony 
with a previously looped riff?

"Fire in Brooklyn" is at present, my favorite of Bobby's original compositions. Dedicated 
to a cousin and the cousin's father, both firefighters, the song is a moving account 
of a fictional fire from the perspective of the firefighters, a fire victim, and the arsonist.
My notes read: "It begins with a fast 4/4 bass line [actually more complex] fed into the 
loop."

There's a fire burning in Brooklyn tonight
Stephen Corcoran is workin' hard to bring her under control
He cries "I've already lost three men in that building
I don't want to lose any more.

Back to my notes: "Bobby's slight strain of a vocal rasp captures the pain of the protagonists. 
Sharp, stabbing notes on the high end of the fingerboard, played in tandem with the 
bass line accent the story's urgency."
There are around twenty of us in the audience, all here to see Bobby. It might not seem like 
much, but Tuesday night in the East Village is not an easy sell, unless you've got a following. 
He does. Some engage in banter with the performer. Many cheer at familiar introductory 
notes to certain numbers. All cheer at their conclusion. At some point, a young woman 
sits down to my right, singing along to well-learned lyrics, slapping her leg in time to the 
rhythm. At the song's end, she asks if I'm writing about Bobby, then offers that she 
heard him for the first time at a college in Pennsylvania.
Bobby finishes off the set with a straight-ahead love song, "For You, My Love." His voice 
is natural, unaffected, nothing bombastic, but strains with just enough emotion: 

Everybody goes through changes 
Baby I love you and I forgive you your weaknesses
for you my love.  

Here, he slowly, casually moves up the neck, over the underlying riff. This alternates with 
quick runs and more gently caressed notes.
At the conclusion of the set, I met with Bobby in the front of the café. We spoke briefly, 
and agreed to meet later in the week for an interview.

New Jersey, Drums and Garages
When I ask where he grew up, he says, "I was born in Brooklyn and I like to pretend I 
grew up there. I grew up in Northwest Jersey, in Jefferson Township which is one of the 
towns that borders on Lake Hopatcong. Both of my parents were from New York, my 
father from Manhattan, my mother from Brooklyn. My father continued to work in the 
city, right near Madison Square Garden. So, New York means a lot to me"

Bobby's father worked for CBS in data processing. There were a lot of Columbia records 
around with the stamp, "For Promotional Use Only." It varied from Simon and Garfunkel's 
Bridge Over Troubled Water to orchestral pop by the Ray Connif Orchestra
He got a drum set in 4th grade. He says "My dad bought me a drum set and I used to 
beat the shit out of it every day after school. In White Rock Elementary School in Jefferson 
Township, you could join the band in the 4th grade as an elective. You could choose music 
or art, so I chose the drums. I took to it quickly and was good at it. I once won a contest 
for the longest drum roll. I was pretty proud of that. I loved it. I stuck with it through the 
8th grade but then got out of the music programs entirely. I found it stifling."

He picked up the guitar in high school, using guitar magazines, tablatures and practicing 
with friends to learn how to play. They played in garage bands, not at all serious, turning 
their amps up as loud as they could go. They would order amps, then set them up outside 
the garage. "One of us would play it on 10 and the other would start walking to see 
how far away we could hear it."

The Poor Man's Berklee
Things got serious when he went to William Patterson University. He chose it because it 
was easy to get into and close to home, but, turned out to have one of the best jazz 
programs in the nation, like, a "poor man's Berklee." He wound  studying Music Business. 
His degree is a B.A. in the School of Liberal Arts, with the major track in Music Business.
There were courses in basic musicianship and he learned how to read music. There were 
piano courses, some choir classes &endash; he was in a gospel choir &endash; music appreciation, listening 
classes and music history. Bobby  also got involved with entertainment programming. 
There were some music business groups which had budgets and put on concerts. Looking 
at talent, he started coming into the city and saw some people at the Bitter End and saw 
that "people could be out there playing gigs even though they weren't rock stars."

The Switch to Acoustic
By that time, he'd heard James Taylor's greatest hits and was inspired to focus on the 
acoustic guitar. Bobby went to James Taylor concerts every time he came around. 
He stopped playing electric guitar altogether, and got into songwriting, going to open mics, 
playing acoustic songs like "Fire and Rain." Paul Simon's Graceland and 
Rhythm of the Saints were also influential.



The First Gigs
As he tells it: "By my last year in college I got some bar gigs. I put together a duo with a 
conga player. We'd play some originals, some Paul Simon, James Taylor, acoustic stuff 
by The Who, classic rock, and Crosby Stills & Nash. I was making  some decent money, 
and then I realized, "This is what I'm going to do. After college, I was able to keep doing 
that gig thing and I decided that I wasn't going to get a resume together and go get a 
real job. I was going to embrace music."

Bobby spent a year working as a guitar and sound tech with the group "From Good Homes."  
They opened up for a who's who of bands that broke out in the 90's: Dave Matthews, 
Hootie and the Blowfish, Barenaked Ladies, Bob Weir and Ratdog; even some dates with 
Bob Dylan. Bobby got an education in the business of touring &emdash; how a tour operates, how 
a sound check goes, seeing how a songwriter handles the band and how they arrange music. 
He had his guitar, practicing all the while. "A couple of the guys in the band dug what 
I was doing and saw potential and wanted to help me grow. They gave me some great 
opportunities, throwing me an opening set once in a while on big stages, opening for them." 
He stopped working with the band full-time thing but would tour with them when they 
needed him. Bobby recorded his first record, Nice Hat in 1997and a few of the band 
members did instrumental work on the album.

When I mentioned my observation about his "inner metronome," he responded, "Yeah, 
I've been told that by jazz bass players. I've been blessed with having good time. I've never 
worked on it; never sat with a metronome and practiced." I theorized that it might've 
stemmed from his early success with the drums. He acknowledged that possibility.
Ironically, he got into using the loop, trying to improve his singing. Bobby stated, "The guy 
who turned me on to the loop station was J.D. Walter, a jazz singer. He does what I'm 
doing with guitar &endash; but all voice. Picture Take 6, with one guy. Amazing jazz singer. 
I took a lesson with this guy about a year and a half, two years ago. Through the whole 
lesson, he was talking about his new toy, the loop station. How great it is, how amazing it is… 
So I thought to myself, Alright, I'm paying this guy to impart knowledge to me. I just spent 
75 bucks to listen to him talk about great the loop station is. I guess I'll go buy one. It was 
exactly what he told me it would be. It opened up worlds of creativity, taking it out on the 
gig or just using it at home as a practice tool."
Although my intent is to praise Bobby's solo work and his use of digital layering techniques, 
he states that he wouldn't want to perform that way exclusively. He enjoys the interplay with 
other musicians too much. It's evident from the recordings he's made. Both Nice Hat and the 
follow-up Alive from Sarah Street contain a wealth of collaboration with brass instruments, 
keyboard, violin and even washboard. Whether it's pop, folk or jazz, he'll try anything.
Bobby may feel a need to seek improvement in his vocal abilities, but when the lyrics to 
"Fire in Brooklyn," pour from him like smoke from a three-alarmer, 

I've got three more kids in that house, 
I don't wanna lose any more, 

he's more than gifted… he's perfect.

Addendum: At a recent performance in mid-April, a core realization blossomed
                   as I listened to Bobby perform at a last-minute gig at Satalla.
                   The sound of layered melodies was so rich and moving, a feeling rose 
                    in my chest, up into my throat and my eyes grew moist.
                    These words formed in my mind:
                   "Bobby's playing fills me with so much joy, it brings me to tears."
                   That's just the way it is. 

Bobby Syvarth will be appearing on April 19, 8pm  at Maxwell's in 
Hoboken (1039 Washington St),  opening for the NJ Songwriters in the Round 
and ASCAP presentation of a panel event on the art, craft and business of songwriting.
Look for more Bobby Syvarth appearances in our listings each month.

Web site: www.bobbysyvarth.com

CD Review: Tim Robinson's money in the woods 

by Guest Author Ina May Wool 

Over the past 10 years at the Greenwich Village Songwriter's Exchange you could pretty
much count on certain things to happen every week.  There's pasta to eat.  A good portion 
of the assembled will be drinking red wine.  And Tim Robinson will bring in one, two or 
even three new songs.  Some with a rockabilly or bluesy bent, some folk or country, but 
all of them will be well thought out, beautifully crafted, and highly intelligent.  They might 
make you laugh and they might make you think, or both.

As the years rolled by, it seemed that every second human on the planet recorded and released 
a CD with a collection of semi-autobiographical songs featuring the writer's voice and an 
acoustic guitar somewhere on the premises. Yet Tim Robinson's much-rumored CD never appeared.
Meanwhile Robinson's songs kept pouring out.  His voice matured and grew more confident, his 
guitar playing gained finesse, and he added more rockers to the mix.  Just when you thought there'd 
never be a Tim Robinson CD, along comes his debut, Money in the Woods.  It is absolutely worth the wait.
This collection of 12 songs lists Tim Robinson, Dan Vonnegut (drums), and Byron Isaacs (bass) 
as producers.  The tracks were recorded quickly and have an energetic, fresh feeling to them, but 
the music is certainly not without polish and care.

The lyrics throughout are thoughtful, detailed and brainy, but they're never mere exercises in wit. 
They work as songs - with refrains, melodies you want to sing, and instrumental muscle and color.
David Hamburger adds an elegant and playful quality with his dobro, electric guitar, and banjo.  
Michael Daves plays beautifully on mandolin and electric guitar.  Backing vocals are by Fiona McBain 
of Olabelle, Vonnegut, and Isaacs. Bob Hillman adds a gorgeous harmony to the song  "Twice" along 
with a supportive guitar part. Suzanne Vega sings some backgrounds, a particularly lovely and ethereal 
one on the tuneful, "Paris."

How a certain era in French culture provides a haven for the imagination is a fairly complex idea for a song.   
Robinson carries it off without breaking a lyrical sweat or a rhyme scheme.  Here's a verse and chorus of "Paris":

down the way, Jean Seberg
who has never touched the ground
is lost in speculation
just how would her footsteps sound
like the breath of champagne bubbles
or the rustling of leaves
along the pebbled pathways
through the garden Tuileries,
in Paris, in slower motion
than memory, syncopated stuff
this is love, no it's something stranger
it's a New Yorker dreaming Paris

In "Out on the Edge" the narrator goes from a frustrating day in the urban mess ("it's not the heat, it's 
the humanity") through "the spin on the sound bites" and finally escapes to an Eskimo girl in the Arctic 
Circle "singin' doo wah diddy there's a dream dying at the edge of the world."  All this is to a chugging beat.
I like all the songs on the CD, but I do have two favorites that make me grin each time they begin: "Living" 
and "Twice" are both perfect to my ears. 

In "Living" Robinson addresses his young son - "Sorry kid, you're full of me" and gives us 
a hologram of childhood:

I miss my youth - I've borrowed yours
the tiny hands, the giant doors
the endless days, the sleeping sky
the perfect, sweeping question why?
I once walked closer to the ground
in wild circles, round and round
no words, no balance, no regret
no weight, no shadow, better yet I was
free   sorry kid, you're full of me 
free for now, but not for long, that's living

This is set to rollicking, rocking music. The band sounds like they're having a grand old time in the 
jamming that leads out of the song behind Hamburger's agile electric slide guitar work.
"Twice" is a short story in song, a sweet, pithy, wry take on heaven.  The two characters do pretty 
much what they did back on earth in the 1940's, with just a tiny change or two:

he's still sleepin' with Mary Riley
who arrived in fifty four
sayin' John it's good to see you again
can I hang my wings on your door?
she had crashed into Lake Oswego
after drinkin' her weight in gin
but a drinker's sins had been downgraded
so they dried her up then they let her in
   oh in paradise
they're gonna make you do the same things twice
so call it heaven or you can call it déjà vu
it's all the same to you

In summary, if your tastes run toward the brilliant and vital, the slightly rough but entirely ready 
- think Dylan, John Prine, Lucinda Williams, or Steve Earle - then go out and get yourself a copy 
of Money in the Woods. 
Money in the Woods is available now on CDBaby.com.  

The release party is Saturday, April 9, 8pm, at the Living Room.
Tim will also appear on Saturday April 30, 9pm at the Postcrypt Cafe 
(St. Paul's Chapel basement, Columbia University) in the round with 
Jack Hardy and a special guest.

Note: Tim Robinson is also a professional illustrator and children's book author
His web site is: www.timrobinson.cc