Jack's got the blues and that ain't bad

At age 77, Marin's own Ramblin' Jack Elliott has a hit on his hands.

"A Stranger Here," his new album of country blues, is a tour de force by a folksinging legend who was a prot g of Woody Guthrie and a mentor to the young Bob Dylan.

In a voice that sounds as weathered and worn as a West Marin fence post, one of folk music's most endearing characters expands his repertoire, interpreting an intelligently selected collection of Depression-era blues songs that, sad to say, resonate once again in today's downbeat economy.

This is Jack's second CD on ANTI-Records, the label that made a name for itself by signing Tom Waits. "A Stranger Here" came out of the chute running, making its debut at No. 5 on the Billboard blues charts and tying

Audio: Ramblin' Jack Elliott - Death Don't Have No Mercy

with Leonard Cohen's "Live In London" as the highest-ranking new release.

Amazon.com gushed: "Elliott has made his masterpiece, an album at

once elegiac and defiant, that can stand beside great late career recordings by master singers like Billie Holiday and Frank Sinatra."

The Wall Street Journal pronounced it "a career record."

Oddly enough, Jack has never liked making records. He'd rather be working on the old dory he keeps at his home on Tomales Bay in Marshall. But I've long suspected he had a great album in him, and it took producer Joe Henry (Bettye LaVette, Elvis Costello, Allen Toussaint), to create the setting for that to happen, for him to do some of the best work of his life.

The seed for the CD was planted when Henry produced Jack's recording of "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues" for the Bob Dylan-inspired movie "I'm Not There."

"I saw that as a beautiful template for something," he told me. "I thought it would be a great coup if we could make a fully realized album for Jack with a full band and a concept that drives it."

Henry says he became obsessed with the idea of Jack singing the Rev. Gary Davis song "Death Don't Have No Mercy," and the notion of an entire album of pre-World War II blues flowed from that.

"I don't know why that song entered my thinking, but it did and I couldn't get rid of it," he recalled. "So I developed a concept that would give me an excuse to have Jack sing it. I heard it as very dark and terse. I heard Jack singing with a band."

As it happened, "Death Don't Have No Mercy" became the haunting centerpiece of an album that frees Jack from the constraints of his folksinger persona.

"It thrills me to listen to it," Jack said, speaking from a friend's home in Austin, Texas. "I heard the Rev. Gary Davis sing that song, but I couldn't hope to imitate him, so I don't know if there's any discernible influence. But it's very powerful. It's so heavy I'm afraid of it."

Jack, who opens the Kate Wolf Memorial Music Festival with Rosalie Sorrels on June 26, has always been a lone wolf, singing cowpoke ballads and folk tunes, strumming or finger picking his acoustic guitar and cracking up audiences with his rambling anecdotes (hence his nickname).

For this album, he recorded over four days in Henry's basement studio in South Pasadena with a handpicked ensemble of crack musicians, including keyboardist Van Dyke Parks and David Hidalgo of Los Lobos.

"I didn't have the courage to tell anyone how frightened I was because some of the songs were nothing like anything I'd tried to sing before," Jack confessed. "I felt totally unprepared, but those guys must have done their homework because they played so damn well I was buoyed up. A lot of times I didn't even play my guitar. I just stood up to the microphone and sang."

Jack and the band recorded 10 songs by the likes of Son House ("Grinnin' in Your Face"), Blind Willie Johnson ("Soul of a Man") and Mississippi John Hurt ("Richland Women Blues").

Jack met Gary Davis and Mississippi John Hurt when the old blues masters were rediscovered during the '60s folk revival of which he was so much a part.

Now that he's an elder statesman, maybe this album will lead to the same thing happening for him - exposure to a whole new audience.

"I thought it was brilliant of the record company guys and Joe Henry to choose to have me do this record," Jack said. "That's one of the main reasons why it's going to be a success. I'm very excited about it. But I'm not really a music lover. I just play this stuff. That's what buys the cat food and diesel fuel."

IF YOU RAMBLE

- What: Ramblin' Jack Elliott opens the 2009 Kate Wolf Memorial Music Festival

- When: 5:30 p.m. June 26; through June 28

- Where: Black Oak Ranch, five miles north of Laytonville on Highway 101 in Mendocino County

- Tickets: $30 to $200

- Purchase: 558-4253 or 866-558-4253; also atCulture Shock, 7 Bolinas Road, Fairfax, 456-8138

- Information: 707-829-7067; www.cumuluspresents.com

Guitarist Robben Ford: A musician's musician

For a performer Musician magazine named one of the 100 greatest guitarists of the last century, Robben Ford isn't as famous as he has every right to be.

For whatever reason, he's one of those unsung musicians' musicians overshadowed by the likes of John Mayer and Eric Clapton, the top-hatted Slash and the other celebrity guitar slingers.

Along with Larry Carlton, though, Ford is the most talented and yet underrated jazz-rock fusion players in the business. A four-time Grammy nominee, he's played with some of music's heaviest hitters - Miles Davis and Joni Mitchell, for starters, plus George Harrison, blues giant Jimmy Witherspoon, Michael McDonald, and Marin's own Bonnie Raitt and Phil Lesh.

Audio: Robben Ford - Supernatural

I have a memory of him that has stuck in my mind for years. I was backstage at the San Francisco Blues Festival when I heard a guitarist playing the hell out of a slow blues tune. I didn't know who it was at first because I was unable to see the bandstand from where I was sitting.

Across from me, an older blues cat who obviously knew his stuff was as rapt as I was, swept away by what we later learned was a transporting Ford guitar solo. When the final tasteful note died out, we made eye contact, smiled and nodded in appreciation. We didn't have to say a word. We knew we'd just been taken to a place only a handful of musicians could have taken us.

Ford last played here in February on a bill with Jorma Kaukonen and Ruthie Foster in the 2,000-seat Marin Veterans Memorial Auditorium.

On June 13, he returns for a mostly acoustic show in the intimate 142 Throckmorton Theatre in Mill Valley. His wife, singer Anne Kerry Ford, opens.

"It's the perfect place for us to do something kind of unique," he said, speaking from his home in Ojai, a Southern California haven for musicians, artists and health enthusiasts.

The 57-year-old singer-songwriter-guitarist said the Mill Valley show will be "a little more jazz oriented and song oriented" than his straight-up blues or rock concerts with his power trio.

He'll be singing what he calls his "more subtle songs," namely "Don't Lose Your Faith in Me" and "If" from his 1999 album "Supernatural." It's all part of his campaign to mix music up, to keep it creative and eclectic.

Raised in Ukiah, Ford came of age during the era of the San Francisco Sound, admiring Marin blues guitarists Michael Bloomfield and Elvin Bishop from the Paul Butterfield Band.

"When I grew up, I used to see the most incredible combinations of bands at the Fillmore and Winterland in the '60s," he recalled. "You'd see a jazz act, then Ten Years After and then Iron Butterfly. No one minded that there was this diversity."

Ford is working on presenting a series of diverse shows like the ones Bill Graham used to put together in those freewheeling ballroom days.

"There are a lot of great artists who don't get heard because they're pigeonholed, and that's just nonsense," he said. "I'm irked by that. There are people in the music industry saying you can't do this or you can't do that. But I like doing a variety of things."

That's for sure. I asked him about some of the legends he's played with in his wide-ranging career.

Miles Davis: "That was a crowning moment. I played with Miles when I was 34 or 35, then I left the band. I could have stayed with him for God knows how long because he really liked me. He loved my playing and we got along well.

"But the situation around him was an unhealthy scene. I don't mean drugs, but it was a shame to feel the need to leave. It was incredible to make a connection with probably the most important figure in music, at least to me. I still listen to him more than any single artist. At first when I left, he was angry with me. But the last thing he said was, 'If you want to come back, come back.'"

Joni Mitchell: "She was at the peak of her powers when I played with her in the L.A. Express. The 'Court and Spark' record is insanely great, and 'The Hissing of Summer Lawns' leans more to the dark side. They're yin and yang records. And I got to be there for them, to tour with her and make a live record. It was a privilege to work with the greatest artist of the 20th century in pop music. But I split. I wanted to make my own records. I was young and stupid to think like that. But I did two tours with her and two records, and then everybody kind of moved on."

George Harrison: "It was a great experience to play with one of the Beatles. Who would have thought? I met him in London after a Joni Mitchell concert and he invited me to go on his 'Dark Horse' tour.

"But it was a strange situation. We were doing two shows a day sometimes and they were 31Ú2 hours long. We had a huge cast of characters with Ravi Shankar and a 16-piece Indian orchestra. We'd be in these enormous sports arenas for 16 hours a day. It was relentless. There were a lot of drugs around, so it wasn't the most pleasurable experience, but George was generous and sweet to me. It was the only tour he ever did with his band, but he didn't like being a bandleader. I saw him years later and he said, 'I think of you, Robin.' Wow, George Harrison thinking of me? That was the last time I saw him."

Shortly after the tour with Harrison, Ford took a much-needed break from the grind of the road and spent a year in Colorado, studying under the controversial Buddhist teacher Chogyam Trungpa, known for the "crazy wisdom" he imparted on his Western followers.

While Ford has never lived in Marin, he should feel right at home in a county with the Spirit Rock Meditation Center and the Green Gulch Farm Zen Center.

"He (Trungpa) taught us to look at our own mind and not look at outside forces for our own personal happiness and well being," he explained. "All of us were trying to turn spirituality into a drug or a lover. But he was relentless in cutting through that kind of a view and getting people to be honest with themselves. It had a powerful impact on everyone in those days. And it still does."

Sweet Deal for Sweetwater?

I had the pleasure of speaking to a community group last week about Marin's rock history. Afterward, the first question from the audience was about Sweetwater. What's going on with the long-closed club in Mill Valley? Is one of Marin's rock 'n' roll institutions ever going to reopen?

Good question. The owners of Sweetwater have been vowing to reopen since they lost their lease and shut down the original club in September 2007 after 37 years on Throckmorton Avenue.

That was more than 1/2 years ago. It looked hopeful when a banner went up on the site of what was the proposed new Sweetwater, just around the corner on Miller Avenue from the old one.

It promised in big bold letters that Sweetwater would open there soon, in a former gift and home furnishings shop at 32 Miller Ave. But when months passed, times got tough and remodeling work stopped, someone crossed out the "soon" and wrote "when?" in green spray paint.

Lately, Sweetwater fans had a new reason to be alarmed when the banner disappeared entirely and a "for lease" sign appeared in the window of the partially refurbished storefront.

There were so many rumors and so much speculation flying around that the club's owners, Becky and Thom Steere, avoided going downtown so they wouldn't be barraged with questions and accusations.

As it happens, they blame the bad economy, government regulations and unanticipated cost overruns for the delays.

"We've mortagaged our house three times," Becky Steere said. "It's extremely hurtfiul to hear some of this stuff people are saying."

For everyone who has been as worried as I've been that Sweetwater may be gone forever, I'm happy to report that there's light at the end of the tunnel, and it isn't an oncoming train.

The good news is that the Steeres have been in serious discussions with Mill Valley Live Arts, the nonprofit organization that operates the popular 142 Throckmorton Theatre.

Under the new management concept they're discussing, Sweetwater would also become a nonprofit venue under Mill Valley Live Arts. In essence, Sweetwater and 142 Throckmorton would be sister entertainment operations under the same umbrella.

"The good thing is that 142 Throckmorton is already quite successful in its programming, and I think Sweetwater would add another venue for the community that's smaller and would allow us to present acts that wouldn't fit well into the larger venue," Larry Goldfarb, chair of Mill Valley Live Arts, said.

This potential breakthrough is being hailed as an exciting new development by everyone concerned, and it could result in the new Sweetwater opening again in a matter of a few months.

I proposed something along these lines for Sweetwater some time ago after visiting Passim's, a historic nonprofit nightclub in Cambridge, Mass. But ideas and reality are two different things. What matters in the end is that all the principals are behind it, including the investors, and they appear to be - at least in concept.

"Having the nonprofit behind us would be a nice thing instead of Thom and I busting our butts every month to make it work, to be able to pay the bills," Becky Steere told me. "It's a good model. It would be a nice community thing. I've never given up hope. And now It looks like it's going to happen."

According to her, fans of the old Sweetwater needn't worry about the club losing it's roots rock character. Under the agreement, she said, Sweetwater would continue to operate as a full bar with live music.

Billionaire Warren Hellman, who bankrolls the annual Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival in San Francisco, is one of Sweetwater's investors.

"He, like many other investors and fans of Sweetwater, would love to see it reopen," said Lora Blum, Hellman's attorney. "And if a nonprofit organization like Mill Valley Live Arts can make that happen, he would definitely support that effort."

There are some legal complications and other negotiating hurdles, including agreements on financial terms. But Sweetwater has such cach and is of such cultural importance that money does not appear to be much of an object.

"If we could reach terms, we have donors in place who are pretty committed to giving or getting the money to accomplish this," Goldfarb said. "I think these donors have the financial resources to do so, and they have expressed their desire for it to happen."

One of the key people in all of this is Lucy Mercer, the founder and artistic director of the 142 Throckmorton Theatre. She has been instrumental in pulling people together in order to save something we all value while at the same time building a nonprofit cultural organization of which we can enjoy and be proud.

"It's not a done deal," she said. "There's still the paperwork to go through, but overall, it does create a win-win for everyone involved."

Contact Paul Liberatore via e-mail at liberatore@marinij.com; follow him on Twitter at http://twitter.com/LibLarge

A Community Mourns Carl Dern

This is the obituary I wrote for the Marin Independent Journal. Carl was more than a figure in the community to me. He was someone I looked up to. I knew him since my daughters were growing up and even more recently as a friend and artist at my wife's gallery, the Donna Seager Gallery. To Carl, everyone was family. He was a compassionate man and I'll miss him.

Carl Dern, a renowned sculptor and prominent member of the Marin art community, died Monday of complications from interstitial lung disease at the University of California at San Francisco, Medical Center.

Mr. Dern, a longtime resident of Fairfax, was 73.

In his distinguished career, Mr. Dern's art was exhibited widely in the Bay Area and beyond, including the Fresno Art Museum, the Francisco Museum of Modern Art and the Contemporary Jewish Museum in San Francisco.

He was a participating artist in 2004's "Hearts in San Francisco" citywide exhibition, creating a bright green heart he called "San Francisco Love Apple."

Mr. Dern was best known for his whimsical chairs, ladders and trees fashioned in steel, bronze and copper, sometimes seen as metaphors for the human figure. His work was lauded in an exhibition art catalog for "its elegant imbalance and noble incongruity."

Ceramist Richard Shaw of Fairfax, a fellow artist and friend, described Mr. Dern as "a tough, hard-working, sensitive guy." He compared his art to that of Alexander Calder, famed for his metal mobiles.

"Carl's pieces looked like they were moving when they weren't," Shaw said. "He gave that feeling of motion.

Also accomplished at drawing, Mr. Dern often worked with his wife, Marie, a book artist and founder of Jungle Garden Press in Fairfax.

"He was curious, inventive and compassionate," she said.

They most recently collaborated with U.S. Poet Laureate Kay Ryan on "The Jam Jar Lifeboat & Other Novelties Exposed," a collection of Ryan's poems that Mr. Dern illustrated with his light-hearted drawings.

Mr. Dern also worked in the field of applied arts, most notably creating unique steel and bronze furniture and artistic chandeliers.

Born in Salt Lake City, Utah, on April 24, 1936, into a family of miners, cowboys and politicians, Mr. Dern moved to San Francisco in 1960 and received a bachelor of fine arts degree from the San Francisco Art Institute and a master's of fine arts degree in sculpture from UC Berkeley.

He won the prestigious Anne Bremer Prize in Art in 1969 and 1972. In 1970, he co-founded the New Museum of Modern Art in Oakland.

In the early 1980s, Mr. Dern built Fairfax Square, a two-story commercial building at 82 Bolinas Road. He and his wife, Marie, worked in their studio on nearby Park Road in Fairfax.

A deeply spiritual man, Mr. Dern was a member of the Zen Buddhist community and had been studying to be a Buddhist priest and teacher under the noted Buddhist leader Ed Brown, a personal friend.

In addition his wife, he is survived by daughters Amy Christensen of Cotati and Daisy Dern of Nashville, Tenn.; sons Fritz Dern of Fairfax and James Dern of Santa Rosa; and five grandchildren.

Memorial contributions may be made to the San Francisco Zen Center, any favorite charity or toward the purchase of a piece of art by a local artist.

A memorial service will be in July in Stinson Beach.

Contact Paul Liberatore via e-mail at liberatore@marinij.com; follow him on Twitter at http://twitter.com/LibLarge

The Dead Live Again: Finding Balance after Jerry Garcia

Fourteen years after Jerry Garcia's death, the four surviving members of the Grateful Dead have finally come together again as a band.

And the 20,000 Deadheads who sold out the Shoreline Amphitheater Sunday night for the band's homecoming show couldn't be happier about it.

The Shoreline concert, the first of two at the airy Mountain View venue, came at the end of the Dead's first national tour in five years.

"It's everything I could have hoped for," said 49-year-old Scott Bucey of Corte Madera, a member of the Marin Symphony board and a Deadhead since 1978. "It brings us back to where we were before Jerry died in 1995. I only wish that they had done this sooner."

Wearing a tie-dye T-shirt, Bucey was at the concert with his wife, Jennifer.

"The people in the audience are saying, 'This is it, finally,'" she said. "'It's taken 14 years, but this is it.'"

After they lost Garcia, the Grateful Dead's lead guitarist and charismatic paterfamilias, the four other founding members - guitarist-singer Bob Weir, bassist Phil Lesh and drummers Mickey Hart and Bill Kreutzmann - feuded over business and personal issues. The only thing they seemed to agree on was dropping "Grateful" from their name in honor of their fallen bandmate.

That's why this 20-plus-concert reunion tour has become such a milestone in the 40-year history of the Marin-based band.

And even in the worst economy since the Great Depression, the Dead remain a highly attractive touring act, playing

"We're selling 15,000 to 20,000 tickets every night," said Tim Jorstad of San Rafael, the Dead's business manager. "In this economy, that's really good. The guys are stoked."

Mickey Hart certainly was, standing backstage before the show with a lit cigar in one hand and a drumstick in the other.

"We really found each other on this tour," he said with his characteristic energy and enthusiasm. "We're renewing our friendship. We're starting to become a group again."

The man who has promised to reunite the country, President Barack Obama, also did his part in reuniting the Dead.

They came together for the first time at a Warfield fundraiser for Obama the night before the California primary. And a huge Obama benefit concert in Pennsylvania last year sealed the deal for this tour.

The president was so grateful for their support that he invited them to visit him in the Oval Office when the band played in Washington D.C.

Rolling Stone magazine ran a photo of him and the band under the headline "Deadhead in Chief."

And it turns out that several members of the president's staff, including senior advisers Pete Rouse and David Axelrod, are Dead fans. With other West Wingers,

That same night Hart invited Tipper Gore, a longtime friend, to sit in on drums on "Sugar Magnolia."

At Shoreline, the Dead started 45 minutes late, waiting for the jubilant crowd to file in from the vast parking lots, and played past the amphitheater's 11:30 p.m. curfew. Bolstered by lead guitarist Warren Haynes of the Allman Bros. Band and Government Mule, and keyboardist Jeff Chimenti from Weir's band Ratdog, the Dead played classics like "Sugaree," "Sugar Magnolia" and, to close the first set, an operatic rendition of "Uncle John's Band" with pipe organ harmonies.

The packed house seemed to move with the music like one giant undulating organism at a pot party. Balloons and beach balls floated above the crowd and occasionally bounced onto the stage.

The Dead, concentrating on their trademark improvisational rock, may disdain showmanship, but they know how to put on a show. During their traditional "Rhythm Devils" and "Space" numbers, a sexy group of five female fire dancers came out to add even more heat and light to the far-out proceedings.

The Dead seemed extra soulful on more introspective songs like "Unbroken Chain" and a 20-minute version of "Help on the Way." Because they are now among rock's senior citizens, choosing "Touch of Grey," their only Top 40 hit, as their final encore seemed symbolic.

Asked if they will tour again, Hart said, "We need to get through this tour first."

But the sense was that, as long as they remain healthy, this tour may be the beginning or a late career revival. Or not.

"Since Garcia died, everyone was unsettled musically and personally," said Hart's wife, Caryl. "It took a long time to find a new balance, and that's what you're seeing now."

The Dead play again at Shoreline on Thursday night. There's no telling when they may do that again. As someone close to the aging band said: "If you're a Deadhead, you don't want to sit this one out."

Photo Credits

1.The Dead bassist Phil Lesh (left) and guitarist Bob Weir (front) perform at the Shoreline Amphitheater. The Dead performed its first homecoming show at the end of their first tour in five years in front of a packed house of fans at the Shoreline Amphitheater in Mountain View on Sunday. (Special to the IJ/Douglas Zimmerman)

2. The Dead drummer Mickey Hart address the crowd to be patient for the start of the concert because thousands of ticket holders were still outside the amphitheater at the scheduled start of the concert Sunday. (Special to the IJ/Douglas Zimmerman)

3. Huntington Beach resident Julie Postel (center) holds a Grateful Dead poster before the start of the concert. Her first Grateful Dead concert was in 1985. (Special to the IJ/Douglas Zimmerman)

4. The Dead fan Tahoe Jimbo 420 wears tie-dye shoes before the start of the concert. (Special to the IJ/Douglas Zimmerman)

Robin Williams' surprise Mill Valley show has a lot of heart

Robin Williams made an impromptu appearance at 142 Throckmorton Theatre in Mill Valley Tuesday night, the comedian's first public performance since undergoing heart surgery in March.

Williams, recuperating from a heart valve operation to correct an irregular heartbeat, had been sitting in the back of the theater during comedian Mark Pitta's weekly comedy night.

"We expected him to just watch," said Lucy Mercer, the theater's founder and artistic director. "He's still fragile, obviously."

But toward the end of the show, the lure of the stage became too strong for Williams to resist.

"I was saying goodnight to the crowd when he walked up, and I'm like, 'no way,'" Pitta said. "It was a total surprise to me. Then he went on to do 30 minutes."

Once he was on stage, the famously manic comedian confessed that he couldn't just sit in the back while other comics made people laugh.

"You know I'm a whore for an audience," he told the packed house.

The 57-year-old comedian is known to be a bundle of sweaty energy while performing, but this time fans became concerned when he appeared to be laboring even harder than usual.

"Ten minutes in, he was out of breath," Pitta said. "He kept saying, 'The doctors said I shouldn't be here. I need another month down.' It was like watching 'The Wrestler' with Mickey Rourke, only with comedy, and Robin up on top of the ropes, leaping off."

Williams, who has been living in Tiburon since his second wife filed for divorce last year, postponed his sold-out one-man comedy tour, "Weapons of Self-Destruction," after being hospitalized with heart problems and undergoing surgery at the Cleveland Clinic on March 13.

The 3.5-hour operation involved replacing his aortic valve and repairing his mitral valve. His doctors said he is expected to make a complete recovery.

He jokes that the next leg of the tour, expected to resume in the fall, will be called "Weapons of Self-Destruction and Reconstruction!"

There is a history of heart disease in Williams' family. In August 2007, his older brother, Robert Todd Williams, died of complications from heart surgery.

As he often did when he was developing material for his tour at the Mill Valley theater, Williams got into some good-natured bantering with members of the audience, joking about the cow's valve that was used to repair his heart.

"Somebody asked him from the audience if he craved different foods," Pitta said, "because he heard that with that surgery, a bovine valve, that's what happens. Robin said, 'Well I'm grazing more.'"

At one point, Williams engaged in an exchange with Corinna Kaufman, a 54-year-old "guided image practitioner and hypnotherapist" from Novato.

"In Marin, there's so much material based on that," Mercer said, commenting on Kaufman's new-agey occupation. "He went back and forth with her."

For her part, Kaufman was afraid the always antic Williams had over-taxed his newly repaired heart.

"He kept saying, 'My heart is going so fast,' and pounding his chest," she said. "He was so excited just being on stage that he said his heart was jumping all over the place. I was worried that he would keel over right there."

Williams was remarkably candid, talking about his surgery, his doctors and nurses, dealing with pain, other intimate matters.

"Personally, I think it was good for him," Mercer said. "He was really open with people. It was wonderful. This is his community."

Pitta concurred, saying, "At the end of it, in the Green Room, he looked at me and said, 'I needed that.'"

Jai Uttal opens up to life, love on journey to sobriety

Jai Uttal, the world music star who has just released a transformational new album, "Thunder Love," was sitting on a plump couch the other day in a comfy corner of Open Secret, the San Rafael New Age bookstore, when strains of exotic music floated from the shop's sound system, causing him to bolt upright and his eyes to light up like an electric Buddha.

It was a song by the Bauls of Bengal, India's wandering street musicians, that shocked him into a reverie of recognition. When he was a young seeker entranced by Indian music and Eastern spirituality, he lived among them, traveled with them, communicating with them only through music.

"Do you hear that?" he asked me. "That music was very influential, very important to me. Those people

Audio: Jai Uttal - Bhavani Shankara

helped me find my voice and my style." His 1994 album with his Pagan Love Orchestra, "Beggars and Saints," was a tribute to the Bauls.

By then, though, he was already well known. In 1990, he broke through with his very first album, "Footprints," an innovative collaboration with the late jazz trumpeter Don Cherry and Indian singer Lakshmi Shankar that combined acoustic and sampled sounds from India, Turkey, Africa and the Middle East. It has since become a classic.

"With that album, I got famous," he said matter-of-factly.

He is quick to acknowledge another major musical debt, this one to Ali Akbar Khan, the famed North Indian maestro who founded San Rafael's Ali Akbar College of Music in 1967.

A New Yorker who retains a trace of an accent, Uttal came to Marin when he was 19 to study with Khan, taking lessons in voice and the sarod, the 25-stringed instrument of which Khan is the recognized master.

A multi-instrumentalist singer and songwriter, Uttal has produced a series of acclaimed albums over the past two decades, blending Indian music, Appalachian folk, psychedelic rock, hip-hop, jazz, you name it.

In 2002, his album "Mondo Rama" earned him his first New Age Grammy nomination.

At 57, Uttal, who lives with his family in San Anselmo, has short salt-and-pepper hair, speaks in a gentle voice and wears one gold earring and a necklace with a silver feather pendant. On the day of this interview, he had on a brown leather shirt jacket with western snaps and light green pants with a drawstring.

Until he was in his late 40s, his life and career looked pretty rose-colored from the outside. Then, as now, he earned a nice living traveling around the country leading workshops in kirtan yoga chanting and meditation, a practice that enthusiasts see as a way "to open the heart of infinite love."

Jack Kornfield, founder of Spirit Rock Meditation Center in Woodacre, praised him as "one of the most extraordinary spiritual chanters and ecstatic singers of

But Uttal is the first to confess that he was living a lie. His heart was as slammed shut as a prison door. While his public image was one of an enlightened, spiritual musician who some fans even saw as a guru, the truth was that he was an alcoholic and drug user whose personal life was out of control.

"It was a dark period for me because my public persona and my internal experience were such a dichotomy," he admitted. "I never felt I was being phony or hypocritical, but I was so miserable inside that I didn't see my way out of it. Here I was performing chanting and devotional music that was about finding your way out of these dark holes. But somehow or other I had dug myself in so deep I couldn't get myself out.

"Part of it was the drugs and alcohol, but some part of me needed to take that tunnel as far down as it was going to go before I could come out and breathe again. I was very physically sick, but nobody knew it. I had no one to share how absolutely hopeless I felt inside of me. I felt really alone."

And then, when he was 49, he met his soul mate, Nubia Teixeira, a young Brazilian dancer and yoga teacher who is now his wife.

"Before I met her, I didn't believe in the concept of soul mates," he said. "I thought it was romantic wishful thinking. But when I met Nubia my whole internal landscape changed."

Not long after they were married, Nubia, now 36, gave birth to their son, Ezra Gopal, now 4, Uttal's first child.

"I didn't expect to have a child," he confided. "Ezra was born when I was 54 and totally out of that way of thinking. My wife thought she never wanted a child either. But we started feeling the energy of this being. At first we pushed it away, but then we stopped pushing away and everything changed - Ezra was born."

As a middle-aged husband who suddenly found himself a first-time father, Uttal realized that he had to make some major changes in his life.

"The primary one was getting sober," he said. "I was never a party animal or carouser, but I had consistently been taking drugs and drinking alcohol since I was a kid. Getting clean and sober was a big job. It didn't happen overnight."

But it happened. And the result of his transformation from the dark into the light is reflected in "Thunder Love."

"That goes right into what 'Thunder Love' is about - the opening to love and trust expressed through song," he explained. "It's why this album is different from all the others."

It's also different in that it focuses heavily on guitar and banjo and incorporates Brazilian instruments and rhythms for the first time in a significant way.

On this album, Uttal also sings more in English than he ever has, using Sanskrit only in the chants and choruses. Aside from the complex structure and length of several of the nine songs, it's a catchy, commercial record with lots of pop hooks and memorable melodies.

He says this album is about opening up to love and to life, at long last. That's patently evident on "Bolo Ram (Let the Spirits Sing)." As he sings in his fine clear voice, "Looking 'round my bedroom for some evidence that there's still reason to be alive / Not so long ago I lost my innocence simply trying to survive / Memories come and go but nothing stays / You know still I hold on tight / 'Cause without your love I could live a million days and never get it right."

At this mature point in Uttal's professional and personal life, he seems to have finally gotten it right.