yJanuary 2002 Feature Story

Dave Conant

by Jim Kelton

Editors Note: On November 28th, 2001, just six days before his 60th birthday, Seattle lost another of it's favorite bluesmen, "Vashon" Dave Conant. A huge celebration in his honor took place in early December, just after another huge gathering to remember Isaac Scott, who died just 12 days earlier. Look for more on both Dave Conant and Isaac Scott at www.bluestodo.com Dave Conant, a member of the Washington Blues Society's Hall of Fame and a 20-year mainstay on the Pacific NW blues scene, passed away recently but his album Chiaroscuro (Right Now Records, 2001) is a warm and genuine legacy for anyone who ever heard him and was moved by his deep sense of blues meaning.

photo taken by Phil Chesnut

Conant was born in Wichita, Kansas, and studied both guitar and piano but it was his fretwork that endeared him to blues fans and his rich combination of country and blues roots that separated him from the crowd. He sounded like he could have played behind Hank Williams-or with Johnny Shines. He was first and foremost a versatile musician but he was likewise steeped in the lore of America's incredibly heartfelt honky-tonk, juke joint traditions-the hardwood floor beneath it all. Chiaroscuro, which features The D-Rangers (bassist Bill Freckleton and alternating drummers Chris Leighton and Jim Plano), is filled with references to other eras and colorful characters. Conant's covers of A. Luandrew's age-old "Highway 61" and Guitar Slim's "Things I Used to Do" sound like echoes of the pre-electric and early-electric days of the Delta rising in the wake of Chicago publicity and Memphis entrepreneurship.

Conant's version of Elmore James' "Done Somebody Wrong" summons up the ruggedness of Elmore's favorite stomping grounds (around West Helena, when circumstances were right) and Conant's own "Whiskey Blues" is a far-down-in-the-jug mourner that rates comparison with anybody's delirium visions. But there's upbeat material here, too. The album starts off with "What Makes the Little Girls Go Crazy," a striding swagger that answers its own question. Another original (by Conant) "I've Been Stoned Since 1969" has a lighthearted feel to it, along with a massively-distorted guitar solo that demonstrates precisely the woozy effects of such a condition.

As for elegiac sentiment without the schmaltz, "Welcome to Van Zant" has a noble demeanor and a bred-in-the-bone air of steadfast conviction. It's like a hymn. Conant was not a great singer but his voice is ideally suited to his material here, whether he's bopping along on harmonica-cat Kim Field's retro-rocking "All These Little Things" or wailing away on "Going Back to Wichita." He sings with real sincerity and his instrumental touch is the perfect match for that righteous degree of conviction. Conant's background was as varied as it was distinguished. He played lead guitar for Seattle's Annie Rose and the Thrillers for five years, worked with Red Dress, Isaac Scott, Sweet Talkin' Jones, the Hank Williams Revue, and the Slamhound Hunters. He also toured with R.L. Burnside, who tops the list of bombastic Delta virtuosos these days. He also received a Lifetime Achievement Award from the WBS. But all that is strictly honor where it's due.

Chiaroscuro is the living testament. Listen to Conant's slide playing, his acoustic chops, or simply let the whole business rush over you like it does when he launches into "Things I Used to Do," the guitar whining like an overheated driveshaft and the lyrics moaning a midnight junkyard rhapsody. He's got it exactly right.