a history tale from me to you
in a little town called Newmarket, NH, the Stone Church reined over all as the best place to see live music in all of the holy land that is the New Hampshire seacoast. The church-converted-to-music hall was a tiny stone structure up on Zion Hill (literal). It was gorgeous, the stage was small and the freedom to smoke whatever you wanted outside brought in all kinds of musicians, people and wandering students. Tuesdays nights were bluegrass night and we would make the trek to the town over to experience drunken bliss and local bluegrass. here we all learned how to really dance (bop man) glazed over and tranquilized.
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This place opened their holy musical doors to all of us and changed us. It's because of places like this why i cannot bring myself to envision concerts at any other place then festival grounds or tiny dance halls with wooden floors covered in my beer. It's because of places like this why we frequently are pulled towards the original sounds of folk created by bands younger then us (sad song). All of this is my introduction to Saintseneca. just youngin's playing in basements and bars and on trashcans, testing out their sound and making waves towards us.
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