Saw and Soul with Lou Mannick in Hermosa

Sunday’s performers, l-r: Ernie Nuñez, David Witham, Lou Mannick, Barbara Morrison, Oliver C. Brown, Mike McCollum, and Otis Mannick. Photo

Sunday’s performers, l-r: Ernie Nuñez, David Witham, Lou Mannick, Barbara Morrison, Oliver C. Brown, Mike McCollum, and Otis Mannick. Photo

Seduced and serenaded
Lou Mannick brings “Saw and Soul” to Live at the Lounge

Apart from the occasional percussionist, can you imagine someone going to a hardware store in search of a musical instrument? Well, you might, after watching Lou Mannick bring out the sweetest sounds from his saw. Yes, the same kind of saw that fells trees and builds homes.
Mannick and an eclectic collection of musicians perform “Saw and Soul” on Sunday afternoon at Live at the Lounge. That’s the venue alongside the Comedy and Magic Club in Hermosa Beach.
Apart from Mannick, who also plays harmonica and sings, the core group includes pianist David Witham (20 years with George Benson; 2016 tour with Barbra Streisand), percussionist Oliver C. Brown (original member of KC & the Sunshine Band; Gravity 180), bassist Eddie Nuñez (Brian Setzer Orchestra), and Otis Mannick (the NYC-based ‘90s band Mannick in Lithium). Vocalist Windy Barnes (Julio Iglesias, Stevie Wonder) is a regular, although currently touring. The guest performers are guitarist Mike McCollum and vocalist Barbara Morrison (Dizzy Gillespie, Ray Charles, Etta James, Dr. John, Kenny Burrell and many, many more).
In short, Lou Mannick has got himself an A-1 lineup. Here’s how music (and the saw) came into his life and then stayed there.

A recent concert, l-r: David Witham, Lou Mannick, Ernie Nuñez, Windy Barnes, Otis Mannick, and Mike McCollum. Photo courtesy of Lou Mannick

An instrumental journey
“How it began with music,” he says, “is that my mother was a neighborhood piano teacher in Redondo Beach. But I was pretty lazy and so I learned very little piano… which is a disappointment to this day. But we had band in school and they furnished an instrument, a French horn, because they said I had a good ear and kind of understood pitch.”
His musical skills were sharpened when Mannick began to attend Adams Junior High (Adams Middle School): “They had an actual orchestra, and an orchestra class. All the musicians were in the same class. It was heaven.
“Then a friend of mine named Mike McCollum, who lived in Redondo Beach, taught me a few songs on guitar. The first song he taught me was ‘Tom Dooley.’ We got into folk songs because we could pretty quickly learn one and sing it.”

Lou Manick and the saw that sings. Photo

In the early 1960s, Mannick entered the now-defunct Aviation High School on the corner of Aviation and Manhattan Beach boulevards. “Some people that I knew had turned me on to Jim Kweskin & The Jug Band,” he says, which led to Mannick forming a jug band of his own with two friends, Dave and Bob Haut, and his brother, Paul. “I played the washtub bass.” One day Bob brought in a saw “and he showed me that if I bent it a certain way and tapped on it with an eraser (on the end of a pencil) we could make it sing. And that (in 1963) was the beginning of my career in sawing.”
Not a very compelling tale so far, is it?
“I wish I had a story that was more like, ‘I learned to sing in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee,’” Mannick says. “Something like that.”
I’ll juice up the facts a little, I tell him.
“So, I learned to play the guitar and the saw in Redondo Beach, California,” Mannick says before pausing. “It’s maybe not as romantic as the story we could invent.”
Right. We could slip in Paris… Scribble, scribble, erase, scribble, scribble: From his home in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee Lou Mannick acquired an apartment overlooking the Seine where he partied nightly, danced, and made music.
Getting back to the saw, he continues, “I forgot about it until I saw David Weiss play the saw, and I’m going to say it was 1980.” Weiss, who died in 2014, was an oboist with the L.A. Philharmonic for 30 years. “I saw him play the saw at Oranges-Sardines, which was a gallery in downtown Los Angeles.”
Weiss, however, hadn’t resorted to a pencil with an eraser at its tip; to elicit music from his saw he was using a bow. For Mannick, this was an eye-opener: “Before then I was tapping on it with mallets.”
Not along after, a friend of his named Michael Moore gave him a bass fiddle bow, and Mannick says he’s using it to this day, although it’s been restrung a couple of times in the nearly 40 years since. Which brings up a key question, How does one distinguish between a good saw player and one who’s mediocre?
Mannick’s wife, the artist Candice Gawne, came across a group called the International Musical Saw Association. They hold yearly competitions, with the 41st Annual Saw Festival coming up in Santa Cruz next month.
“I’ve gone every year now for maybe three years,” Mannick says, “and I generally place but I’ve not taken first place. I think it’s because we all have different opinions on how it should be played, and I don’t know if my opinion’s been accepted yet.”
Whatever it is the judges focus on (pitch, method, style), Mannick appears to be well liked and appreciated. They’ve invited him to perform in August.

Lou Mannick and Ernie Nuñez. Photo courtesy of Lou Mannick

Full circle, and then some
As mentioned earlier, Mannick also plays the harmonica. And where did he pick it up? Well, in church, of course. Another friend, Ken Friedman, gave a performance, apparently not the kind that knocks off one’s socks, because Mannick then thought to himself: Hey, I can do that too.
One of the most revered harmonica players of the era was Paul Butterfield, whom Mannick studied. Closer to home, “there was a club called the Insomniac, across the street from the Lighthouse (on Pier Avenue in Hermosa Beach). We started frequenting the Insomniac, and the Chambers Brothers (later, in 1968, striking pop gold with “Time Has Come Today”) would play there. I’d already tried playing the harmonica, but then I heard Lester Chambers play the harmonica to (Gershwin’s) ‘Summertime.’ So that was very inspiring and got me going down the vein of music with soul.”
Howard Rumsey’s Lighthouse was only yards away. Did Mannick ever go there?
“I saw Cannonball Adderley,” he replies. “I saw Mose Allison many times. We didn’t take it for granted; we knew it was special. But I didn’t know how special till now.”
During the 1960s, Mannick had his own bands, the first one being with Jim Boyle. He hesitates before mentioning the name, the Candy Mountain Sugar Cubes, and one can see why. A little saccharine. “That was probably ‘65-’66, and then I was in a band called the Liquid Blues.” A better-sounding name, I think we’ll agree.
“I’ve primarily been a singer in bands that I’ve been in,” he says, “and I was one of four singers when I was in the jug band because we sang in harmony. But I had a cancer operation and it was almost impossible to sing for a while.”
That prompted Mannick to double-down on the saw, and he began playing Christmas parties and such, including a gig at the Museum of Neon Art, “because they’re into unusual art and unusual forms of music.”
And that’s where he first encountered pianist David Witham. A while later he came across Witham again, who was playing this time at LACMA with saxophonist Ernie Watts.
Mannick and Witham struck up a friendship and, says Mannick, “I put together something with him where I play the saw and he accompanies me. And oh what a difference to have an accompanist when I play the saw. I feel like I can really sail when I have that underneath me.
“And then the great singer Windy Barnes landed in San Pedro (where Mannick currently lives). She was with Stevie Wonder for I think eight tours, and with Julio Iglesias for a number of years.” At one point Barnes asked Mannick if he could open her show, which he did (and would do on other occasions as well).
“I decided to ask some musicians to play with me,” Mannick says. “I was getting my singing voice back to some capacity and playing harmonica, and I was desirous of doing more than just the opening song. So I put together a group and I actually got a gig at Alvas Showroom.
“It came out so well that I had another one; and somebody was there that was connected to the Comedy and Magic Club.”

Candice Gawne, David Witham, Lou Mannick, and Ernie Nuñez. Photo courtesy of Lou Mannick

When Mannick and his musicians take the stage on Sunday, what can we expect to hear?
“I was born in 1949,” he says, “and can completely relate to music from the ‘40s. And I find that much of the music I want to do now is from the ‘40s.”
Pressed for specifics, he first replies, “I’m really just doing whatever strikes me. I do a lot of Nat King Cole songs. Believe it or not, I’m old enough that I saw Nat King Cole perform at the Greek Theatre.”
That’s right before Mannick hands over a list of some 30 songs from which the concert will draw. These include “Smile,” “Choo Choo Cha Boogie,” “Tequila,” and “I Don’t Need No Doctor.” I mention these tunes in particular because I hung around long enough to sit in on the group’s rehearsal and they went through these numbers and more. Not to slight anyone by singling out just one person, but it was a pleasure to hear Barbara Morrison sing up close.
Can we stress this enough? Those who attend the show are in for a treat.
Lou Mannick’s Saw and Soul, with special guests Barbara Morrison and Mike McCollum, and featuring David Witham, Oliver C. Brown, Ernie Nuñez, and Otis Mannick, takes place at 5 p.m. on Sunday at Live at the Lounge, next door to the Comedy and Magic Club, 1014 Hermosa Ave., Hermosa Beach. Doors open at 4 p.m., with dinner and drinks available. Tickets, $20. Call (310) 372-1193 or go to comedyandmagicclub.com. ER

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