When I walked up on this man on stage, I was drawn by a voice filled with every bit of soul heard in the voices of all the great bluesmen you'd care to name. I thought, wow, Goombay really landed a pro. This guy must be a legend. How'd they do that?
Then I asked a listener beside me, and she told, "That's Chuck Beatty." Damn! Chuck Beatty, aka Dr. Blues, and his band Blues by Design, straight out of Weaverville. That's right, Weavervegas.
Sure, I've heard of Chuck playing around town, but I figured he'd just be a pedestrian bluesman. But this guy has studied the greats, and he channels them. He sang "Yellow Moon," by the Funky Meters, and mesmerized. He rocked "Mustang Sally." He did a little Son House and a little Taj Mahal. The guy was great.
Go see this man play. Buy his CD. Dr. Blues has a cure for what ails ya.

This members of this brass band called themselves Madison Elite. They're based out of Durham, at a church called the United House of Prayer. The band leader was telling a fan that there are United House of Prayer churches all over the East Coast, and almost all of them have a band.
These guys put their brass to gospel, and it was simply awesome. I don't care if you believe in God or not - you did while these guys were playing. The music was alternately mournful and hopeful, downbeat and uplifting.
There was the cool drummer in the middle of the bunch, who barely flinched. The tambourine man. The corps of trombonists.

But I couldn't take my eyes of the leader of the group. He blew and blew and blew. He was incredible.

More on these guys in a minute - this group delivered the best show of the entire day, in my opinion.

This guy was calling himself "Houdini" and his big trick to end his show was a levitation. I didn't get a really good view, but it looked kind of cheesy. The crowd, though, was impressed.

This local band party really connected with the crowd.

I should add "braless" to my whitegirl hippiechick description of drum dancers. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Any way you like it: afro, jewfro, cornrow, jerrycurl, braids or straight, it could all be found at Goombay.

Amazing how the drums bring out the African in Ashvegas' whitegirl hippiechicks. They frackin' love the drums, go wild for the drums.

Chant:
"Ain't no party
like a Goombay party."

"Ain't no party
like a Goombay party."

Goombay, Ashvegas' annual Afro-Carribean is really a great time. Confined to The Block, Ashvegas' historic black district, the compact party takes on the feel of a family reunion. People stand around and hug, gab and just enjoy each other's company. The crowds aren't oppressive. Everyone just has a good time. It ends Sunday, but if you have the chance to stop by, you really should.