Circa 1990 I made a phone call that would influence the direction of my life several years later.

I was looking up a band called Funmud in the Atlanta newspaper. In those pre-MySpace days the paper had a service where you could call in and hear 30 seconds of any band for $.50., and Funmud was a band from my neck of the suburbs with a big reputation. As I searched for Funmud, I ran across another mud, a band called Mudcat. Thinking maybe they would sound similar, I took a listen. What I heard was some sort of oddball ragtime tune with a banjo and washboard that sounded like it was coming out of an old Victrola*. Funmud was supposed to sound more like Soul Asylum, so this Mudcat was different...and I dug it!

I wanted to hear Mudcat, but they played in a scary-looking bar called the Northside Tavern. Someone told me that it was a lesbian bar filled with bull dykes. I opted to stay away...for years!

Finally in August of 1998 I decided I didn't care if a bull dyke did kick my ass, I was going to hear Mudcat in person! I walked into a room filled with a broad demographic of the local population, from hippies to blues hounds, from marketing managers to bull dykes. And Mudcat tore through the room like a gale force wind. It was on par with my first Urban Shakedancers experience -- utterly fantastic.

By this time I had a radio show in a small town in the boonies, and I was always looking for people to interview. I presented myself to the singer of this band, Danny "Mudcat" Dudeck, and told him I'd like to have him as a guest some time.

As I drove home, I started remembering when my friends and I would drive by pastures and envision producing our own Woodstock. This band gave me that bug again. Could I use my 1,000 watt radio show as a platform to produce such a thing? The idea began to obsess me.

Each afternoon I would make some phone calls inquiring about where to get a P.A., where to get staging, how to get tickets printed. The next morning I would wake up wondering why I had gotten in so deep over my head. That same afternoon I would make more calls to radio stations for interviews and deliver press releases about my upcoming event, which was now set for October 3rd.

I also went down to the Northside Tavern again on a weeknight and ran into a guy named Carlos Capote from a band called The Breeze Kings. I had never heard his band, but I had heard him sit in with the Shakedancers and knew he could sing like hell. Somehow I also knew he had Jim Ransone, the Shakedancers old guitarist, in his band, so they had to be good. I walked up to Carlos a complete stranger, and he just said, "You book it and we'll play it." My good friends Scott and Darren also agreed to bring their new band, The Truetones, which featured the unbelievable guitarist Albert Thompson and singer Mark Whitten.

To get a street closed off for this event I went in front of the Cartersville city council and negotiated with the mayor. The next day people around town told me they had seen me on the public access TV channel and got a good laugh out of my appearance.

All the while I envisioned no one showing up and me looking like a total idiot in front of musicians I didn't even know.

The day came, and it was incredible. Georgia Power brought out a funnel cake truck. A local caterer put out a table loaded with barbecue. A music shop showed up with the P.A. and a farm supply place loaned a flatbed for the stage. It makes me a little misty to think about it.

We probably had a crowd of only 120 people, but by the standards of the small town, that was equal to 10,000. I was glad anyone had shown up and that they seemed to be having such a great time.

And the bands blew everyone away. Albert, wherever you are, you're still the best blues guitarist I've ever heard, bar none.



The Breeze Kings were as good as I had hoped (although I didn't catch enough on tape), and then came...Mudcat. These guys had been playing a major radio station event in Stone Mountain, 60 miles away, in front of 20,000 people, but drove all the way to Cartersville to help me! And what a earthshaking closer they were. People in this otherwise staid, sleepy town actually removed their shoes and danced in the street! Look!



Mudcat has had many lineups over the years, but this one is still my favorite (and I had the pleasure of jamming with the harmonica player, I think his name was Fish, a couple of times). My friend Darren filled in as their drummer, and I think he did a pretty seamless job, considering he had never heard any of these songs before.



"We just moved out here from Little Five Points," one group of people told me. "Who would think you would walk down the street and run into a great band? Do we need to write to the city council so you can do more stuff like this?" People were offering to pitch in behind me! I couldn't believe it!

"Art, that was GREAT!" another lady said. The fire in her eyes when she said it stays with me. She honestly thought it was great! This was a homerun event!

It may look small in the videos, but this day truly changed my life for several years. I thought nothing of barreling head first into any situation, pursuing any lofty ambition I had. Because of the inspiration these bands freely gave, I started up my music `zine (which featured a cover interview with Mudcat and also a Breeze Kings piece!), and got articles published in big magazines and newspapers, and got on the radio in Atlanta a few times.

I saw Mudcat many times after this, and had Danny and Chris Uhler, the guy with the washboard, as guests on my show once. Mudcat was, and is, a great band. What makes it different from any other band is that you don't just tap your foot for a couple of hours, you come away with a special rejuvenation and inspiration you that you carry into the world with you.

I probably need to go see a Mudcat show again.

* I later found out this song was called "Fowl Play." It's on Mudcat's first CD, Worldwide Mud.