Ramblin' Jack Elliott

Ramblin' Jack Elliott signed this 1960 Monitor record for me after a show he played at B.B. Kings Blues Club in 2006. He shared the bill with Peter Rowan, both playing separate sets. At one point Jack and Peter attempted to play a song together, but Jack's guitar was tuned to itself and was quite a bit off from standard tuning. Before Peter had a chance to re-tune to match Jack's guitar, Jack launched into a song. Since Peter was already standing there with his guitar in his hand, he had no choice but to try to play along by bending his strings into tune. This didn't work too well. Peter was obviously embarrassed, Jack was oblivious, and I was amused, finding the incident rather fitting for a Ramblin' Jack Elliott show.

After the performance, Jack came out from the back stage area and was immediately cornered by some guy who brought about 30 records for him to "look through" and sign if and when he "felt like signing something." After the guy ushered Jack to a table, Jack picked up the first record in the collection, an early and obscure EP from the 50s, and bitterly commented that he never received any money for it. Reluctantly, he signed a few of the guy's records--very sloppily--working his way through the stack, obviously feeling a little trapped. It was at this point that I introduced myself and asked if he wouldn't mind signing my record, "after all, I only brought one." I hated to butt in like that, but if I hadn't, I'm sure the guy in front of me would have occupied all of Jack's time until he had had enough of the guy's collection and got up and left. Jack did sign my cover--also very sloppily--noting afterward that he added a couple extra "T's" to his name "because you can never have too many." I don't think Jack intentionally added the extra T's, but I wouldn't be surprised if he did.

George Jones

George Jones signed this Musicor cover earlier this year, after I mailed it to his fan club, and it's one of my favorite autographs I've gotten through the mail. I had met George while he was on his book tour about 15 years ago, but he wasn't signing memorabilia back then. Shortly after that book tour, I saw George in concert with Tammy Wynette, but he didn't sign stuff on that occasion either. Finally I decided that the best way to get him to sign a record was to mail him one, which I did, and I got it back within two weeks.

Porter Wagoner

I got these two Porter Wagoner records signed backstage at Joe's Pub in New York City on March 30, 2007. After the show, I wrote up this short review and posted it on a guitar forum:

Tonight I had the incredible opportunity to see Porter Wagoner backed by Marty Stuart at Joe's Pub in New York City. My wife and I got there early and grabbed a seat right in front of the stage. I had a couple records with me I was hoping to get signed, so I asked the guy in charge if Porter would be signing autographs after the show. This guy unbelievably brought me to a small back stage room to meet Porter and Marty. I shook hands with them and they were as friendly as can be. I was particularly taken with how nice, down to earth, and cool Marty Stuart is. He basically treated me like a good friend, even though we had just met.

Porter's show was one of the most touching shows I have seen. He played a great set: Satisfied Mind, Dooley, I'll Go Down Swinging, Green Green Grass of Home, Rubber Room (!), Cold Hard Facts of Life, and more. Porter was really enjoying himself, as was Marty. I gather that Porter didn't know what to expect coming to New York City after all these years. He ended up absolutely loving it.

At the end of the show, Porter and Marty came on for an encore. Porter didn't need his guitar for the song and there was no guitar stand. He handed the guitar to Marty who had nowhere to put the guitar so, recognizing me from before, he reached across the stage to my table and asked me to hold the guitar. So, I sat through the encore (I'll Go Down Swinging) holding Porter Wagoner's guitar. After the song, I gave Marty back the guitar and he shook my hand, giving me his guitar pick in the process as a token of thanks. This was a moment I won't forget.

Arlo Guthrie

This was the first record I ever got signed and it’s an aesthetic disaster, but it has sentimental value. I got this signed in the late 80s at a daytime show at the Frederick Fair Grounds in Frederick, Maryland. The price of admission was $5 and after the show Arlo sat down in the grass, talking with folks and signing autographs--mostly on cassette tapes. When I handed him this 1981 LP, he said something like "Look at this old thing." It’s funny how a 1981 record can seem more dated than a classic record from the 60s or 70s, but that’s exactly how this one seemed back then and it still does now; I mean, a signed Alice’s Restaurant is a timeless artifact, but a signed Power of Love--Arlo’s last major label record--is in a category all its own. The funny thing is, I had Alice’s Restaurant on LP at the time, but I chose to bring this record to the show instead. I guess I thought it would be a nice gesture to bring a record from the current decade. Something that would not have occurred to me back then is that this "cut-out" copy probably reminded Arlo that this record did not sell very well. I wish that the notched spine was the only issue with this cover, but equally problematic is the fact that the autograph is totally lost in the Hawaiian shirt, not to mention that the pen was obviously running low on ink. There’s also the hideous cover design--at least Arlo’s got a nice tan.

Harry Belafonte

One of the benefits of maintaining this blog is that it motivates me to write letters to the legendary artists I admire like Harry Belafonte. Calypso was probably the first album I ever heard, since it belonged to my parents, and I distinctly remember playing it on my toy turntable when I was a child. When I stumbled upon an incredibly clean copy of this 1956 LP in a dollar record bin last month, I knew I had to mail it to Mr. Belafonte and ask him to sign it. What I got back in return was much nicer than I anticipated. While I often prefer simple, clean signatures without a personalization, I do like autographs like this one that indicate a legitimate interaction took place; it’s nice to know that Mr. Belafonte appreciated my letter, making our exchange much less one-sided than it could have been. Calypso is one of the most popular records of all time--the first LP to sell over one million copies--and the elegant cover design is perfect for an autograph.

Bert Jansch

I got a chance to see Bert Jansch perform a solo show at Southpaw in Broolkyn, NY in 2006. I arrived an hour early to the show and sat next to a gentleman in his 60s who was surprised to see that someone my age (mid 30s) had come to see Bert perform. At that time there were about ten people in the venue and we were all comfortably seated in the only seating area--a small group of couches and chairs in a raised platform towards the back of the room. As people started to trickle in and stand in front of the stage, I decided to do the same so I would have a better view. An hour later the entire club was filled to capacity and most of the audience was in their 20s and 30s and I thought to myself that the surprised guy on the couch must be flabbergasted by now.

Bert was captivating on stage, which is an extremely difficult thing to be when you're performing as a solo act. After the show, Bert came out from the backstage area and into the club to sign a few autographs. While I was waiting for my turn, it was brought to my attention that there were several more autograph-seekers on the sidewalk outside the venue--these were guys who hadn't even seen the show and were probably just looking for stuff to put on eBay. It always annoys me when I see this--fortunately Bert seemed to know what was up and he signed our stuff first.

Recently Bert had to cancel a North American tour due to illness. I really hope he's feeling better and I get a chance to see him perform again.