Jim Waive at Blue Moon Diner
Every Wednesday night country music’s original spirit is revived among the dim lights of Blue Moon Diner. The songs come from Jim Waive, an authentic cowboy hat-clad troubadour intent on revisiting a time gone by. At his weekly informal shows, Waive tucks himself into the corner of the hipster hangout and sings and strums without amplification. His lonesome croon sets the mood, as casual listeners huddle at nearby tables or the adjacent bar, drinking beer and picking at sweet potato fries.
Five years ago, Waive was a popular venue-hopping regular on the local music scene with his string outfit the Young Divorcees. The group recorded two albums, including a self-titled debut and 2009’s Strike a Match, but these days full band gigs are few and far between. The diner feels like a more comfortable outlet for Waive. He doesn’t need to put on a show. He just needs to sing from the heart.
On a recent summer Wednesday, Waive showcased familiar staples from his debut, including the heartbreak ballad “Fool.” He mixed in crowd-pleasing favorites from Waylon and Willie like “Good Hearted Woman” and “Funny How Times Slips Away.” He also reached back to Hank Williams’ redemptive gospel tune “I Saw the Light” and even gave his vintage treatment to Bob Dylan’s “You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go.” The evening’s small but attentive crowd clapped diligently between songs and filled a tip jar in appreciation of Waive’s two-hour set.
When you think about what the radio-friendly side of Nashville has become, it’s refreshing to see an under-the-radar artist like Waive keeping it real. He’s also not looking to join the continually expanding crop of indie acts twisting Americana in an endless number of directions. He’s a straight shooter, just looking for ears willing to hear that old country way.—Jedd Ferris
The Band Leader
Art Wheeler at Escafé
If late night talk shows were made in Charlottesville, Art Wheeler would almost certainly be one of the host’s sidekicks. He’d be the Questlove to C’ville’s Jimmy Fallon. Wait, that’s not right. He’d be the Paul Schaffer to our David Letterman. Closer.
“G.E. Smith,” said Guy Quinn, Wheeler’s ex-brother in law. “Me and Art used to sit and watch G.E. Smith [on “Saturday Night Live”] and jank on him because he was just a mediocre guitar player who mugged for the crowd. But Art does the same thing.”
The mugging works. Equal parts musician, entertainer, and teacher, Wheeler has put together a storied career in and around Charlottesville. He’s played more than 1,000 venues and been onstage with legends. He’s written music for a major motion picture (Jessica Lange’s Blue Sky) and played piano for top statesman.
At his bimonthly Friday night gig at Escafé, Wheeler orchestrates a four- to five-piece band from behind his keyboard, playing classical, gospel, funk, jazz, and everything in between. He’s joined by another keyboardist, drummer, sax player, and various journeymen who come and go depending on their schedules.
“I would call what we do [at Escafe] a ‘diverse repertoire,’” Wheeler said. “I have learned to love music in all of its styles.”
Wheeler has recently set in motion what he calls the culmination of his life’s work: touring with his band under the name “It’s Just Us, It’s Justice.” The set lists will likely look a bit like those his band plays at Escafé, he said, but on a larger scale and encompassing an even wider swath of styles.
“That will be the beginning of my life’s dream, to travel the world and spread a little message from Afghanistan to Zimbabwe,” Wheeler said. “I am devoted to presenting the world’s music to show that any human being can learn anything, again proving it is just us; it’s the human family.” —Shea Gibbs
The Institution
The Hogwaller Ramblers at Fellini’s #9
A long-standing Charlottesville institution, The Hogwaller Ramblers are a rotating
cast of musicians orbiting around frontman Jamie Dyer, playing rowdy, swinging, rock-flavored bluegrass.
Roots and Americana music in Virginia is nothing novel, but the Hogs are cut from a different cloth—an older, dirtier, stranger-smelling one—than today’s fresh-faced and squeaky-clean alt-country and crossover folk acts. Their raw energy sets them apart from gentler peers in the bluegrass circuit, and the Hogs have never courted mainstream success. They are too cantankerous, too gritty to clean up, and too good to ignore.
They’re not the smoothest act, nor the heaviest, nor the roughest—they get the balance just right. The band practices thoughtful, weighty chooglin,’ levied by bawdy energy and Dead-style laidback charm. Guitarist-singer Dyer, an unavoidable presence in Charlottesville, has a commanding voice that grows from a twang into a roar, and the current line-up usually includes the notable Jimmy Stelling on banjo and Dan Sebring on fiddle, among others.
Since 1991 the group’s held down weekly gigs at a number of spots around town, and recent years have seen the Hogs re-establish themselves at Fellini’s #9 (where they were regulars at the restaurant’s previous incarnation in the ’90s), and can be heard every Sunday night between 10-ish and last call.
Fellini’s is hardly the ideal venue for close listening, as the finer details of their music are often impossible to discern over the tipsy chattering of the patrons (those looking to parse Dyer’s wry and memorable lyrics are encouraged to dig up the band’s eponymously titled 1998 CD, available in used bins throughout the region), but the Hogs are more than able to hold their own, volume-wise, and they’ve made the place their home, as much a part of the building as the glass-front windows or the wide wooden bar. —James Ford