Touring and backing Stewart, was Chicago quartet, The Empty Pockets, who consisted of Josh Solomon on the guitar, Erika Brett on the keyboard, Nate Bellon on the bass, and Adam Balasco on drums. Brett, Solomon, and Bellon all provide vocals, in addition to playing their respective instruments. All together, they create an indescribably beautiful, laidback and groovy sound. One of their crowning achievements, of which they were celebrating, was their album “Gotta Find The Moon” earning them their first #1, and topping the Billboard Blues Albums Chart in 2022. They greeted their Solana Beach audience so jovially, with undeniable chemistry onstage to match. It was apparent that everyone was in support of each other.
Among the many pieces they performed, mainly from their albums, was an interpretation of “At Last.” Also performing throughout the entire night was Chase Huna, a saxophonist from Palm Springs. Not only was their performance at the tavern his twelfth show, but his parents were in the audience supporting him. The volume of the audience spiked each time Huna’s accompaniment was heard, his skills unmatched.
After concluding, The Empty Pockets welcomed Stewart to the stage. Stewart approached, carrying an acoustic guitar. He was an exceedingly humble presence. Before performing “Sirens of Titan,” he told his audience that they were going to get geographical, and historical, because that’s what he does. He set the scene, speaking about the South Pole in the year 1903. At this time, the British had sent people all around the world for close to five centuries, or as he put it, conquering people and stealing their possessions. But they had yet to visit one place, and that was the South Pole. Robert Falcon Scott, of the Royal Navy, who had recently been court marshaled, was instructed by admirals to go there. They hoped to accomplish two things through this, sending him somewhere where he couldn’t cause trouble, and to prove that the British conquered the South Pole first.
They achieved neither. In spite of Scott leading two Antarctic expeditions, he was beaten by a Norwegian, and he died a national hero in the eyes of the Royal Navy. Stewart also mentioned, who he described as the punk rocker of polar exploration, Irishman Ernest Shackleton. According to Stewart, Shackleton did not make it to the South Pole either, attempting three times, but never achieving that goal. Both men are referenced in the song. Since Stewart grew up in the English folk scene, allegories disguised everything, with this piece being no different. But before they began, Stewart jokingly admitted it was actually about a cold woman who wouldn’t sleep with him. The keyboard, as well as the flute solos, especially shined.
Throughout the entire performance, Stewart’s seated audience was respectful and charmed endlessly by his humorous comments. He was a natural in maintaining a connection between himself and his viewers. He spoke about a student-led revolution headed by a German student named Daniel Cohn-Bendit, at a time when General De Gaulle was being overthrown. Believing everything was over for him, Gaulle got on a helicopter, and raced for the German border. But it suddenly occurred to him that that was the second time he had been chased out of Paris by a German, Stewart figured everyone remembered the first one. So Gaulle turned back around, and restored order. Nevertheless, Stewart informed the crowd that he thought it would be nice to write a composite song embracing all the French revolutions, which was “The Palace of Versailles.” Before going on their current tour, he thought that another one was occurring. Stewart then jokingly remarked that he liked France, and that he’s a regular, but he doesn’t understand their politics.
When it came time for Stewart to sing, “Time Passages,” audience members were treated with yet another sublime saxophone solo from Huna. It was a showstopper, more than deserving of its standing ovation. Stewart noted how terrific it was that the audience was applauding during the solos of “Time Passages,” joking that it makes the soloists play better because they get excited. He expressed how there were tons of opportunities for them to applaud in the next song, featuring a musician who had a profound influence on his career, more than perhaps anyone else. To everyone’s shock, that musician was there for the show, and was going to come up on stage to perform with them. Said musician was the multi-talented Peter White. Together, they performed “On the Border ” starting with the opening notes on the guitar, with attributes being gradually added, enhancing the melody. Every band member in The Empty Pockets juggled their musical responsibilities with ease, rotating instruments, and demonstrating how incredible they are.
Afterwards, Stewart happily remarked that they don’t normally have so many people, but that they do tonight. Their next song was originally performed by a guitar player who he met at fifteen. Stewart had grown up in Fach cottage in England, a rural environment where no one shared an interest in guitars. He had to track someone down, who was a guitar player. Through this, he would meet Robert Fripp of King Crimson. Stewart described Fripp as an incredibly fast guitar player, capable of playing amazing runs.
Stewart asked Fripp to teach him how to play the guitar. Fripp agreed, teaching Stewart jazz chords that hurt his fingers so much. Eventually, he would stop taking lessons. Both men remained in touch, staying friends for forty years. Fripp was at one point interviewed, and asked if any of his students made it within the music business. He thought about, before saying yes, and that his student did it by ignoring everything he taught him. That student was Stewart. The jazziest piece of the show’s set list was dedicated to Fripp.
Before singing “Modern Times” Stewart reflected on how when he initially wrote the song, he was not thinking about what it could mean. He just wrote it, jokingly stating he writes songs the old-fashioned way, with a quill on parchment. But for this one, he got modern by using a ball-point-pen. He has since understood that when writing, he doesn’t know where songs will go, as they often write themselves. It’s something that many artists experience. All these years later, Stewart believes the song is about people.
It’s about the repetitious process of people coming in and out of your lives. How those that you are closest with at 17 years old, most of them are long gone by 27 years old. If you’re lucky, you’ll still hang onto a handful of lifelong friends, but they mainly pass on through. Stewart personally believes he’s up to the thousands. People who he would see most everyday, going so quickly. The piece itself is about someone who you haven’t seen in fifteen years, while also being alarmed by how much they have changed. Be it drugs, misfortunate, or religion, he describes how people will go off on these tangents. Yet, in spite of the change, you still try to speak with them, because it’s been all this time, and you’re happy to see them. But they aren’t the same person anymore. Stewart encourages others to interpret the song the way they’d like.
Stewart admitted how frequently the title “Modern Times” has been used for studio albums. Years after he released his own under that name, Bob Dylan did one as well. He laughed, saying people do catch up. But he obtained inspiration for that title from the Charlie Chaplin movie of the 1930s. He also mentioned the newspaper in Paris, which translated to “Modern Times.” He admitted to how moronic of a title it is, as there’s no such thing as modern times. From a historical perspective, every time someone blinks, they have entered a new age. Stewart expressed how there is no such thing as the present, that he’s been trying to tell others this, but no one listens. Everyone is standing on the shoulders of people who went before.
Growing up, Stewart was submerged in the English folk scene, and he mentioned how difficult it was to graduate up the ladder of folks singers. Artists of the pop genre could make a record that was either a hit or not. If it wasn’t, the record company would drop the artist, before moving onto the next person. But as a folk singer, things didn’t work like that. Stewart explained that one would begin by playing for perhaps twenty people in the back of a pub in the middle of nowhere or at a coffee bar, in the hopes that someone notices. But most of the time, they didn’t. It’s a sentiment that still holds up today, especially for anyone who picks up a guitar and wants to have a career. He joked that after ten years of repeating that process, parents would insist that it’s time to get a job. But for Stewart, four individual things happened to him when he first went up to London to be a folk singer, things he described as cataclysmic game-changers.
Back in his hometown, during 1963, there was a record store run by a well-informed woman, who knew everything pertaining to music. She told Stewart she had something he needed to listen to, and at the time, nobody had heard of it. It was Bob Dylan’s “Masters of War.” To Stewart, the song was extraordinary. In those days, bands would usually play all of the hits for an hour, before going to the pub for half an hour, and then come back to play for another hour. However, no ever one clapped, regardless of everybody having a good time and dancing along to the music. But after learning “Masters of War,” Stewart was playing his acoustic guitar, wondering what would happen if he performed the song, knowing that his audience was ignorant of its existence. So he did, and the room froze, everyone rooted to their spot.
The most miraculous thing occurred afterwards, Stewart’s audience applauded. It was the first applause he had ever got for anything in his life. At that moment, he understood something was happening, but he still did not know what it was yet. In an effort to sing for those who were already acquainted with the style, he traveled to London. He walked into a coffee bar, his guitar case in hand. Unbeknownst to him, the owner approached, asking if he was a folk singer. Stewart, who had been playing with rock bands for two years, seeing an opportunity, and potential rent money, proclaimed that he was, and was asked to start Friday.
Following this, he purchased three Bob Dylan albums, and learned every single song. On Friday, that’s all he sang, perhaps in the same order that they were on the albums. The only comment he received was that he sure played a lot of Bob Dylan pieces. But soon after, another miracle occurred, as Bob Dylan himself turned up in London to play the Royal Albert Hall. Stewart further clarified the differences between Dylan’s performances to a group like The Beatles. They often played for thirty minutes maximum, with four to five different opening acts. Dylan sang solo for two hours, with nothing but an acoustic guitar. That performance sold out, cementing Stewart’s suspicions that something was happening, that perhaps there was a future in this genre. Said future appeared in an unlikely form, that being singer Paul Simon.
When Stewart needed a place to stay, he was told there was a social worker in the west end of London. But one day, he was told to move out into the next room, as there was an American who always stayed there when he visited England. Said man turned out to be Paul Simon, who moved into the room next door to Stewart. Stewart listened to Simon writing songs through the wall, and thought to himself, “Oh, that’s how you do it.” By the year’s end Stewart went from an aspiring rock star, to a singer-songwriter, and he’s still here. Much of the people he grew up with fell to the wayside, as it’s difficult to make that initial breakthrough, and he wrote a song about it. However, it was written from a female perspective. When performing it that night, he invited Brett of The Empty Pockets back onto the stage to perform it.
“Joe The Georgian” was labeled the most unusual song of the evening by Stewart. He jokingly admitted to not knowing what to say about the piece, but he did open up about its origins. After being told by his record company that they wanted hits, they shared with him that dance music was popular at the moment. Back then, he knew nothing about dance music, as he had never listened to it. He found it repetitious, and devoid of content. The manner in which he told this story got the audience laughing, over and over again. In an effort to be different, Stewart made Russian dance music, rather than American, as that’s what had inspired him. The fall of Stalin, and the crossed out faces of 36 Bolsheviks, excluding Stalin himself. He humorously remarked that naturally, it was a good place to start, as he wanted dance music with content.
Stewart wondered where all the dead Bolsheviks were. He remarked that, obviously, they were in hell. But what were they doing in hell? What were they doing when they were purged, after congregating in hell? Waiting for Stalin to die, because they were going to torture him for all eternity. To summarize, the song is about deceased Bolsheviks. Stewart claimed to like it, thinking it was a hit, just not on this planet.
“Year Of The Cat” was the grand finale, giving each musician who had performed an opportunity to shine one last time through a solo. It was a stupendous experience, one that launched audience members out of their seats before the final note had been played. Whether it be the bass, or the guitar, everyone displayed their musical talents in an impressive fashion, as well as their gratitude for the audience watching them. However, the night did not end there, as the audience pleaded for an encore. Stewart took time to credit everyone in the band, but also commented on how their bassist was a man of many talents, impressions included. He proved this, by impersonating a scenario in which Rodney Dangerfield met Gollum. The applause of approval that followed was unspeakably loud. To keep up with the whereabouts of either Stewart or The Empty Pockets, visit https://alstewart.com/ or https://theemptypockets.com/home.
By: Ava Sarnowski / BackStage360
