Tuesday night, one of the most famously underrecognized tale-telling trouveres returned to Fort Collins for the first time in over three years. Making his first appearance at Washington’s, cool cat Leo Kottke pleasured a nearly capacity crowd for almost two hours with acoustic acrobatic artistry and stories from his 50-year endless tour that left the audience silent, laughing, and applauding him at every pause. Presenting with a gentle giant demeanor and baritone articulation, the dry wit and perspectively askew take on life made this evening as unique and spontaneous as was to be expected by anyone familiar with this unsung talent. His yarns varied, were as atypical as his lyrics, and included themes such as hand-to-hand combat, Luxemburg, 5 and/or 7 beat single hand guitar rolls, and admittedly forgetting what he was talking about.
Walking on stage to a seated audience, Kottke picked up his first of two acoustics off the floor, smiled at the applause, and informed everyone,” Leo will be out in a minute. He’s back there getting his breath”. With a hearty laugh by the listeners, Leo started up the Bob “Frizz” Fuller cover “Last Train to Chico”, a tune that has appeared on his setlists for years.
Keeping with the obscure theme of the evening and prompting the next selection, the stageman reported: “There is an island off of the coast of Greenland named Qeqertarsuaq, with a population of 55 whose inhabitants wanted something a little different so they called it “Disko” with a K. This is also the name of this next song.” Laughing at his own random knowledge, Leo continued and took the opportunity to put the house photographer on the spot, directly addressing him with a “Hi” and then stating “thank you”, as the surprised silent shutterbug smiled and pointed right back at Leo. Getting back to it, Kottke continued, “I don’t know why I am smiling like this. I mean, why not. It is awful nice to see the lights back on. We are all back doing this”, a remark that lit the room with applause as Leo put things back on track with the aforementioned tune.
Without pause, Leo brought the audience back into his tale: “This one is called “Four Cents” and is named after something or other that crossed my mind at the time. You have to give these names and sometimes they work, sometimes it doesn’t, sometimes it comes back to haunt you and they never leave. The tunes, if they aren’t any good, you don’t mind losing those, but even those sometimes come back, like something you did in Luxembourg in 1974 with some woman wearing dirndls and a guy in a cowboy hat who grew up herding rats down a back alley somewhere. Hi Ho!” Continuing the eastern European tale, Leo spoke of another adventure on a German television program that involved miscommunication, hand-to-hand combat strategies, and the fear that Kottke elicits from foreign nationals. With that, listeners got treated to the ebb and flow of the instrumental “Four Cents” under the lights that coordinated perfectly with the emotional vibe of the piece, so much that Leo thanked “Chris the house light guy” for his contribution.
“Tiny Island” was next and was explained as being “written by a friend from the 1960’s who scripted this prophetic number. He would eventually be stranded on an island in the pacific. The island being Hawaii, but it is still an island”, again quickening the seated patrons to laughter and wrestling a chuckle from Leo as well. This one showed the performer’s talent not only on the gitbox, but vocally too, the rich and smokey lyrics given over to the room.
“From the Cradle to the Grave” was up next and was storied as a piece that had been written for his daughter and had triggered her first sentence, “Daddy don’t sing”, another selfless jab at his apparent self-deprecating talent. Following this one, Leo shared that pre-pandemic, the longest he had been off the road in fifty years was two months, and even then, that included some one-offs. He added that what the COVID break had done for him was “make all this seem new again”, resulting in an extended applause. Not able to leave an opportunity untouched, Leo chimed in, “Even the mistakes are new!”
At this point Leo switched guitars and slipped a glass slide on his left and demonstrated more of his incredible talent with a great outing on his classic construct “Junebug” from his 1971 release Mudlark. Light hearted and nimble, this one came off with a proficiency that reflected that Leo hasn’t lost to age any of what makes him great. Pausing only for a brief moment, “Louise” was the next, a track that has been a part of Leo’s canon since the 1970’s and was recognized immediately by many in the room. Bouncing along in meter, the vocals once again had everyone hanging onto every syllable while their hearts were warmly filled.
Completing the trifecta of Kottke classics, Leo delivered a well-played version of the comical tale “Pamela Brown”. This tune has the author thanking this missed love for being more of a dodged bullet, where the gratitude is rooted in appreciating the lovely lady for falling in love with someone else so that this intrepid traveler could lead the life, he finds himself amidst the song. The translation and satire fits Leo so well one would think he wrote the tune himself.
The instrumental “Two Cakes Walking” was performed, and at its finish, was described as being written “with a cake walk in mind, a dance mind you, where two cakes walked along heavy on their feet as they would not be spritely. Anyhow, there is no such dance, there is no cake walk. A cake walk is a contest and the best dancer won a cake. What a let down!”
The compositional “Gewerbegebiet”, German for industrial park, contained many movements and shifted from melancholy wanderings to upbeat vociferations and back again. Timing here was impeccable and the oscillation was executed without error.
To close the night, Leo slid back to the slide and sealed the deal with “Standing in My Shoes”. This bluesy bob bounced the room one more time and with its final note, everyone gave a standing ovation to Leo as he held up both guitars, smiled, and walked off amidst the fanfare.
Leo Kottke is a free agent of spontaneity and does what he does not because he wants to, but rather he has to. This life, this adventure, this observation is driven by genetics and history and if you asked Leo, he would probably say that at this point he wouldn’t know what else he could do. The age of the audience was varied and it was great to see that those attending were not confined to fans who would have been around during his heyday, if such a time existed, and with the close of the show, regardless of generation, all who walked out into the cold night wore warm smiles. Almost an octogenarian, this man still has plenty to witness, spin, and share before he throws in the towel and by all means, his existence makes this world a better and more interesting place to be. If you don’t know Leo or recognize him only by his decades of loose associations, plan to close out this year or mark a day in 2023 to see him make the ordinary so much more extra all the while sharing what a lifetime on the road has to offer. Thank you, Leo, for your service. You are not only a veteran of our armed services but our acoustic ones as well.
