Other Stuff I Wrote...

Farewell To Our Friend By Bill Kopp

About three and a half years ago I ran an ad in the local free weekly, hoping to recruit musicians for a pet project of mine, a project I'd had in mind for years. I wanted to form a group that would play -- exclusively-- music from what I consider rock's golden era. The mid-to-late sixties, when anything was possible, experimentation was the rule, and even the failures were interesting. That era just after the British Invasion (or Beat Era, depending on your geography) and before the heaviness set in. The music can be subcategorized as psych-pop, garage; whatever you call it, that's my first musical love (side note: powerpop is my second musical love, and my plan was that if this venture didn't get off the ground, I'd try to form a Badfinger/Raspberries sort of group).

The city in which I live is fairly small, and a bit isolated, so I tried to be realistic. The odds of finding like-minded musicians in this town weren't in my favor. My ad read, in part, "no jamwankery." The idea was to discourage fans of Dave Matthews, Phish and --most of all -- the Grateful Dead. As Jerry Seinfeld said, "not that there's anything wrong with that." But my vision was a group that played concise, snappy renditions of the classics and obscurities of the psychedelic/garage era, as immortalized on the Nuggets compilation albums.

So the ad ran. Well, plenty of drummers were interested. I was able to pick and choose. Over the phone, even, there was no doubt that Mike Baker was the guy. He grew up in L.A. and had seen the likes of The Palace Guard and the Turtles live back in the day. No question: he wanted in, he was in.

A day or so later, well before we had gathered for our first musical get-acquainted session, this other guy called. From work. Dave was his name. "I read your ad. I love that stuff. I play drums."

"Well," I told him, "I'm sorry, but I've found the perfect drummer already." I figured that would pretty much be the end of our conversation.

I was wrong. "How about lead guitar?" he asked, apparently undaunted.

Oh boy, I've got a live one here, I thought to myself. I tried my best to find a way to get off the phone. This was one of those nuts that just wants to be in a group, talent or no. I didn't want to waste his time, nor mine.

He didn't give up. "Tell me: are you planning to do 'Journey to the Center of the Mind?'" I sat up straight. Not all that many people even remember the Amboy Dukes classic, featuring a young Ted Nugent. That this guy even knew it told me I should keep talking to him.

"You bet," I said. "That's a song I've always wanted to play. I have the 45."

"Me too," said Dave. "Hold on a second." The next sound I heard was a hollow thud I knew to be an acoustic guitar being picked up.

The next sound after that nearly knocked me out of my seat. This Dave guy proceeded to play the entire lead guitar solo from "Journey to the Center of the Mind" on an acoustic guitar. The note ending, even the sustain -- he nailed it all. It's a fairly long solo by garage/psych standards. When he was done, he picked the phone back up. "Well?"

If he wanted in, he was in.

That was January 2002. Every Wednesday since then, with maybe a dozen exceptions, it was Dave on lead guitar, Mike on drums, and me on keys and vocals (plus a revolving cast of rhythm guitarists and -- as chronicled elsewhere -- bass players). Well over 150 nights, and about 15 or so gigs we played the music of our youth, never straying from the vision, always remaining true to the concept. It rarely paid in financial terms, but damn, was it fun. And that, more than anything else, is what kept us coming back, week after week.

Dave "Doctor Distorto" Jones died suddenly, in his sleep, in the early hours of Saturday, April 9, 2005. A myocardial infarction is what they called it: a sudden, unexpected, massive heart attack. Dave was 49.

With Dave gone, the band -- The Echoes of Tyme -- is no more. With luck and perseverance, Mike and I might do something musical together; I really hope we do. But it won't be The Echoes of Tyme. That group can't exist without Dave.

That said, Mike and I have asked our most recent bassist and second guitarist (Dave Molnar and David Vandegrift, respectively) to join us one last time onstage as we honor the memory of our bandmate, our friend, Dave Jones. On Wednesday April 27, what remains of The Echoes of Tyme will play a farewell concert in tribute to Dave. The evening will also include three or four other groups with some connection to Dave. For us it will be a farewell to Dave, and a farewell to The Echoes of Tyme. The musical celebration of the life of Dave "Doctor Distorto" Jones will begin around 8pm on April 27 at The Watershed in Black Mountain NC. I'm pretty sure there's no cover charge.

On behalf of the Echoes of Tyme, a heartfelt thanks to everyone who's ever attended a show, bought the album, or offered us words of encouragement. If you'd like to join us as we celebrate our friend, come on out.

Restaurant Review: Sorrento D'Italia By Bill Kopp

Sorrento is located in an unassuming building between the Thunderbird Motel and a used car dealership. The red, white and green streetside sign is easy to miss. Even finding the front door requires a bit of thought.

As my dining companion and I found our way inside on a bright, early afternoon, it took a few seconds for our eyes to adjust to Sorrento's dark interior. The bar sits directly in front of the entrance. We were greeted by the bartender and the lone server. Our server led us through a u-turn into a long, narrow room which functioned as the entire dining area, capacity about 44 persons. As we sat down, my companion asked me, in jest, "is this a single-wide?" But within no more than a moment, our attitudes began to change. The place in fact had a classy, warm, friendly ambiance to it.

Our server seated us and began to explain a few things about the menu of the day. At Sorrento, the chef makes pasta fresh daily; today's pasta would be linguine. Due to a large and hungry crowd the preceding evening, a few of the more popular dishes were unavailable. We began a look at the menu.

Meanwhile, our server made note of the glass carafe at our table. Each table in the restaurant had one like it, filled nearly to the top with red wine. Our waiter explained that this was the homemade house wine, from grapes on the family vineyard. This Sangiovese was, we learned, made from organic grapes. As is Sorrento's custom, we were each given a partial glass "on the house," and invited to have more as we wished. It was a light wine with plenty of character, yet it tasted especially “fresh.” We would later be delighted to find that we were charged only $5.50 each (for a few glasses each), an unparalleled value.

This evening the antipasto plate for two – part of every Sorernto meal -- included fire-roasted peppers; lightly seasoned meatballs; a few calamata olives; a few forkfulls of vinegary three-bean salad; and a bit of tuna. A fresh, crusty Tuscan bread was also served, with herbed butter on the side.

Eventually we did make choices from the menu. I chose a capellini with walnut sauce featuring three types of cheeses, plus freshly toasted walnuts, roasted garlic and roasted red peppers. My dining companion made a choice, and the waiter whisked off to the kitchen. He appeared again shortly thereafter to inform us that that, too was out this evening, as were crab meat for the trout dish; trout itself; and lobster for the ravioli. In light of the shortages my companion made a second choice of Asparagus Gamberetti Primavera. This featured crisp fresh asparagus with sun-dried tomatoes and truffle oil, sauteed with gulf shrimp.

Our mouths had watered at the description of the house salad dressing, a concoction of raspberries, blood oranges and grapefruit, but our hopes were dashed upon learning that too was unavailable. Instead we chose a house salad with homemade dressing featuring gorgonzola cheese. It was full of flavor and excellent.

All lingering traces of disappointment faded away upon being served our main courses. The high quality of the food made the shortages seems insignificant. Highlights included the perfectly al dente pasta; the spot-on cooking of the asparagus and my friend's shrimp. Gulf shrimp are succulent when cooked properly, but turn rubbery if cooked even a few seconds too long. These were delicious. My walnut sauce was full of flavor yet not at all heavy.

We considered skipping dessert, but our server let us know that the chef's mother prepared the mascarpone cheese and ladyfingers used in Sorrento's tiramisu. We decided to give it a try, and were immediately pleased with our decision. The tiramisu was light and airy, flavorful but not overpowering.

The chef's mom (B.L. Jabari, graduate of Accadeia Cuisine Milano) stopped by our table to welcome us; she also made her way to the other two occupied tables, visiting briefly there as well. We learned that all fruits and vegetables at Sorrento are organic, and that all meats served are free-range and hormone free.

With tip, our meal totaled just under $58. Our excursion to the geographical outer limits of Asheville dining had been well worth the trip, and my original thesis had been correct: for a place to survive more than a decade outside of the hubbub of downtown Asheville, it would have to be of a superior quality. Sorrento does indeed deserve that appellation.

Restaurant Name: Sorrento D'Italia
Location: 875 Tunnel Road, across from Asheville Dodge
Telephone: 828-299-1928
Pros: Fresh pasta, inventive recipes, attentive staff, reasonable prices
Cons: Location, outdated menu, erratic availability of some items.
Details: Full bar with all ABC permits; good wine list (but try the house wine!); No smoking.
Vegetarian, Vegan, Special Diets Accommodated. VISA/MC accepted. Hours are Sunday, Tuesday and Wednesday 5–9 p.m.
Thursday - Saturday, 5 until late. Closed Mondays.