Blues is an authentic American music. It is also that raw, bitter bruise of feeling that arises from the trials and tragedies that living brings.
Urban Bleu, an Ogden-based band that plays progressive blues, both originals and interpretations of classics of the genre, takes comfort in the style.
The members use it to salve the wounds of a very real tragedy that came into their lives on Dec. 13.
That day, as bassist/co-founder Django Lachlan (aka Timothy McLaughlin) drove home in perilous weather conditions from a gig in Craig, Colo., the band's tour van skidded on ice near Rock Springs, Wyo. The 1988 Toyota van slammed into the rear of a slow-moving semi.
Lachlan's girlfriend, Carmel Sehr, was sleeping in the passenger seat. She died at the scene, likely on impact.
"The coroner, no one, thinks she woke up or felt pain," said Lachlan. "We weren't being stupid. I drove trucks for six and half years, and she was my co-driver. We were good at it."
Lachlan suffered relatively minor injures, as did Urban Bleu's other founder, guitarist/singer Aaron Fowler, and Fowler's companion, Norma Rasmussen.
"It was hell," said Lachlan quietly. "I did not even believe it. It was something that happens to people in the paper that I don't even know. How does something like this happen?"
One band, one house
Band members often grow as close as brothers and sisters, and so it is with Fowler and Lachlan and the women in their lives. They share a house, where they not only live (along with Rasmussen's daughters, ages 15 and 11), but also conduct Urban Bleu business, from managing to marketing to recording.
"The house is all about and for Urban Bleu," noted Fowler.
The fact that the two families dwell in one big house has more advantages than disadvantages, especially since the accident.
"When we first did this, we were all moving in together to save money, rent a place for half of what we could otherwise," said Lachlan. "Before that, we, Carmel and I, were driving the truck, but she had an awful feeling. She had this premonition she was going to die young, in some sort of car accident. So we quit. But it happened anyway, after we quit driving a truck."
Lachlan said the adjustment has been huge for him -- he had planned to share the Urban Bleu house as part of a couple.
"I don't have what I started out with there," Lachlan said. "I feel a little isolated sometimes, but then, it has only been a couple months. I have my moments, and I accept that, and they accept that. The girls are so loving, and tell me how they miss her, too.
"Sometimes, I just get in the truck and drive around and talk to her." Lachlan smiled. "I can go and do that without them thinking I've really gone off my rocker."
Fowler is trying to help his friend work through the loss.
"Basically, I've tried to console Django at times. And I've had my moments, because I knew Carmel almost as long as he did. Not as well, but I lived with her and him, of course."
Lachlan adds, "She always called Aaron her best friend."
Fowler struggles: "But what I've learned is, what I can do to keep him going is keep him on track musically. We are brothers and we will be brothers forever. I know, in my heart, my soul, that we are supposed to be playing together. That's the thing -- you find another musician like this, and the stars align. I am supposed to be here for him, musically as well as through this terrible time.
"I've never had this musical bond before in my life," Fowler added. "We almost read each other's minds, musically. So that is the way I relate and help him best, in the grieving process, through our music. Say, with writing a song -- sometimes it gets a little intense. Sometimes he gets upset and wants to go to his room. Sometimes I let him. Other times, it wouldn't be good for him, and we work through it."
Perfect solo
One reason Lachlan has kept going is that his music was so important to his late girlfriend.
"Carmel paid for a lot of our equipment herself," said Lachlan. "She made sacrifices for us all. She did without a lot of things, did not have much, until the last year or so, as the band started to do better -- nice clothes, decent stuff I know she always wanted. When she left us, everything was getting good that way. She even said, right before the accident, that it was the best weekend of her life.
"She used to tell me, 'Someday, if I am not around, I want you to continue playing. I have a feeling you guys are going to go big.' "
Recently, that premonition seems to be taking shape. Urban Bleu has actually had to turn down double bookings, rather than scrounging for work. The band is selling out its CD, "Lonely Road," at shows. And efforts, through social networking sites, have led to better paydays and bigger crowds.
Both men agree that the hardest gig ever was their first, only five days after the accident, at Ogden's Wine Cellar.
"Aaron walked into that gig with a cane, and I had cuts all over me," said Lachlan. "We were laughing about how we looked like the Spirit of '76 guys."
Fowler smiled. "We did look like we just got out of the trenches -- and we were saying, 'Now we are going to show them how the blues is supposed to be played.' "
The show was dedicated to Sehr. A collection was taken to help pay for her cremation, which raised a good deal of money for which both men express gratitude to their fans.
The hardest moment was actually pre-show, said Lachlan. "I remember, I was out on the porch getting ready for that show. No one was around. And I said, 'Carmel, you know I can't possibly do this on my own. I can't stand up there.' And it was like someone took a blanket fresh out of the dryer and wrapped me in it. I knew I could get through it."
Lachlan described a long bass solo that he attempts at most shows with varying degrees of success. Fowler jokes he takes a smoke break during the piece. Sometimes, Lachlan admits, it turns out OK, but oftentimes, with its complicated riffing and tapping harmonic lines, the solo gets a little hairier than intended or preferred.
"But that night, I said, 'This one is for you, Carmel.' And that night, the solo was just flawless. That one time, even if there are never any others, it was perfect."
Said Fowler: "Carmel is there are every show. Her presence is always with us."
PREVIEW
- WHO: Urban Bleu
- WHEN: 9 p.m. today
- WHERE: The Sand Trap Club, 2851 Washington Blvd., Ogden. Age 21 and over.
- ADMISSION: No cover charge. For further details, call (801) 394-4446
History of the Bleu
Urban Bleu has been a going concern for about seven years. It started when Django Lachlan gave up truck driving to return to music full time.
Lachlan has been playing on more than off for some 26 years. His songwriting partner and guitarist/singer bandmate, Aaron Fowler, has about 23 years under his belt.
Said Fowler, "Basically, I wanted to start a band, so I put an ad in the Standard-Examiner, and Django called. Jim (Wright, who rotates with Andrew Glasmacher as the band's drummer) called also."
"I've just gotten back here from quitting as a driver in Denver," said Lachlan, "and see this thing, a blues band looking for a bass and keyboard player. So I called -- and when you hear his (Fowler's) voice, you can tell he is a blues singer. He's got this raspy and rich thing going on."
Lachlan, who had mastered styles from simple punk to intricate jazz, was not sure if he wanted to limit himself to playing blues bass.
"Not the really basic blues lines, anyway," he said. "But I auditioned anyway, and it was OK. And then I left my amp behind when I went that day, because it was heavy. When I came back for it, I decided to show Aaron some jazz lines."
"And I was all over that," said Fowler. "I said, 'That's what I want you to play.' "
Said Lachlan: "I was like, 'Really? Well, if I can do that, that will be fun.' It was kind of like a thing where we planted a seed, and it just grew."
Comments