The Maverick Festival without The Sam Chase Trio was an odd experience this year after the San Francisco outfit made the event the centrepiece of their trips in 2021 and 2022. The upside of not making it three appearances on the trot is an opportunity to widen their horizon with an extra series of dates around the UK during their two-week stay. The trio of Sam Chase (vocals/guitar), Chandra Johnson (violin) and Devon McClive (cello) called into the West Midlands last July in the tailwind of their festival stint for a rather intimate show in Birmingham. Twelve months later they made the short hop over the border into Sandwell to become the latest transatlantic act to grace the literary surroundings of Thimblemill Library. Books by day; performance art by night with the odd tipple offered to enhance the music venue experience is the essence of this community beacon in a metropolitan heartland. Many quality artists have passed through leaving a notable mark and to that list you can now add The Sam Chase Trio.
The band pitch their music at a crossroads where singer-songwriter folk entwines with classically-tinged stringed accompaniment. The vigorous approach of front man Chase creates a distinct air from the off and a powerful exterior juxtaposes against the sleek playing of his two partners. The gel cements an artistic credence and provides a textural backdrop for a series of exploratory songs exposing a depth in the tradition of the compatriots that influence him. Top of the pile is John Prine of which Chase penned a heartfelt tribute upon his passing; a song sitting pretty amongst the lofty offerings on the current album. The story behind the song, simply named 'John Prine', seemed to add a different dimension in this evening's show. Its prime spot opening the second set courted a long introduction referencing a lengthy cast of characters including Robert Earl Keen, Steve Earle, Lukas Nelson and right at the heart alongside the man himself, Chase's father.
The two sets had a different feel to them this evening. The first was an artist feeling his way in a new environment where no more than three folks in the room had crossed his path before. To this extent Sam Chase appeared to give more scope for his playing partners to share the spotlight. The tonic to keep Chandra Johnson alert straight off the plane for this the trio's first tour show was to submerge into her divine violin playing and this came to the fore early on. It later settled into more of a groove as the dynamic of the show evolved. The presence of the cello is often understated, while quietly weaving its rhythmical magic. Space was also afforded to similarly bring it to the fore in the first half and Devon McClive's role was actively doubled when she assumed vocal lead on 'Lost Girl' taken from the 'spaghetti western folk opera etc etc' THE LAST RITES OF DALLS PISTOL.
After the break a more settled Sam Chase ignited his wit, musings and audience connective qualities. This was aided by three immensely popular songs springing out from artist repertoire to positive reception. 'Chasing Windmills' and 'Cherished Memory' represent the cream of the latest record impishly titled YOU CALL THIS AN ALBUM, while 'Rock Bottom Never Felt So Good' has been a Sam Chase staple for years and spreads its infectious tentacles to fresh ears with every play.
Throughout the show, inner thoughts; multiple perils; active highs and inspirational stimulants brewed and seeped into a receptive air. The candidness peaked with a recent health scare that has probably put a more profound emphasis and appreciation on taking your art to people who listen and appreciate. The pandemic fired the first shots with recent events seemingly provoking deeper gratitude.
Sam Chase ultimately comes across as somebody you want to cheer on. He delivers an optimum twist of frivolity and discerning song sharing. The entertainment switch is permanently on and his touring band set-up adds a sumptuous layered approach. Thimblemill Library on nights like this and the Sam Chase cultural crusade share a bond of discovery. They absorb something inimitable and tap into the mystique and joy of live music.
