by David Eugene Everard

…..As a know-it-all teenager back in the early 1970’s, I desperately wanted to be a rock and roll music critic, but in reality it seemed highly unlikely that this dream of mine would ever come to fruition. At least not until opportunity knocked and I responded to an innovative program offered by a local publisher (a now long defunct, thrice-weekly advertiser known as ‘The Victorian’).

…..The idea, as the “New Voices” masthead explained, was “to introduce young people from the Victoria [British Columbia] area to journalism and encourage them to write.” It was pretty much everything I’d ever wanted in life because, other than the occasional assignment, we were pretty much free to write about anything we wanted to. I stayed with the program for three years and while most of us managed to get our submissions published on a regular basis the only payment we received came in the form of a byline.

…..During my time with them I reviewed records, attended live shows, interviewed local musicians and generally tried to master the craft of rock and roll journalism. I wasn’t always successful in these efforts, but I kept at it.

…..Decades later, as I was sorting through a long forgotten storage closet in the garage, I came across a large, unlabeled cardboard box containing an old ticket stub (Main Floor, Row ‘C’, Seat 6), paper-clipped to an interview I’d conducted with Michael Bloomfield right after a sold out show at the McPherson Playhouse (the ‘Mac’ is a small, but intimate venue here in Victoria with a seating capacity of just under eight hundred) that took place on the evening of Sunday, January 6, 1974.

…..Despite the harsh weather outside, local musician Jim Byrnes played an acoustic blues set to a warm and receptive audience (I asked Bloomfield later what he thought  the opening act and he graciously replied that Byrnes reminded him of a young John Hammond, Jr.). Needless to say, Jim was delighted when I mentioned this to him a few days later.

…..After a short delay, Michael Bloomfield (guitar, vocals, and narration) took the stage to a well-deserved round of applause and was soon joined by Mark Naftlin (keyboards), Roger Troy (bass and vocals) and George Raines (drums).

…..Unfortunately, there were a couple of minor glitches during their show (due to some unexpected issues with both their stage monitors and the P.A. system), but what happened during their blistering cover of B. B. King’s classic tune “Sweet Little Angel” was memorable. And as we  watched in collective disbelief Bloomfield’s guitar jack suddenly dropped to the floor in the middle of his solo. Ever the showman, he simply reached down, picked it up, plugged it back in and carried on as if nothing had happened.

…..Later that evening, while replacing a broken string, Bloomfield took a moment and asked the audience if we had any requests and someone mentioned ‘Another Country’ (from the first Electric Flag album). He shook his head sadly and said that it wasn’t on the set list for this tour. Yet, much to my surprise he proceeded to check his tuning by playing that gorgeous jazz riff which softly emerges from an environmentally based sound collage that dominates the early part of the song.

…..I waited patiently backstage after the show until he had finished talking to everyone else in the green room before asking if he had time for a quick interview. Bloomfield agreed, but first he needed to know where the Empress Hotel was located (apparently he had missed his ride).

…..I finally stopped shaking enough to wrestle my flimsy excuse for a press card out of my moth-eaten, thrift store wallet before assuring him that it was well within walking distance.

…..To this day I can still remember watching how carefully he slipped his talented fingers into a pair of large, fur lined, leather gloves before stepping out into the cold, crisp Canadian winter that waited for us on the other side of the stage door.

…..Now, truth be told, there are a number of different ways to get to the Empress from the McPherson Playhouse, but on this particular evening I thought it made more sense, to me at least, if I took a slightly longer route.

…..And then it happened. Somewhere in the middle of an informative discussion on the use of performance theatrics in rock music (specifically, a band known as Alice Cooper), it suddenly dawned on me that I was talking to legendary blues musician Michael Bloomfield – and I froze (solid).

…..Thankfully, he recognized the situation and quickly tossed me a lifeline by repeating the question, and his answer, just as smoothly as he had plugged the cord back into his guitar earlier that evening. I can’t begin to tell what that meant to an eighteen year old kid chasing a dream.

…..We ended the interview a block or two later at which point Michael took off his glove, shook my hand and wished me the best of luck in my journey before walking up the stairs and disappearing into the warm, luxurious lobby of the Empress Hotel.

…..Admittedly, it’s not the greatest interview ever written and, quite frankly, it’s flat out embarrassing in places. Nevertheless, it did plant a fire in my belly and for that alone I am forever grateful.

…..Over the years I’ve been lucky enough to have had a couple of short stories published, but thanks to the generous encouragement I received from Michael Bloomfield  it could’ve very well been my mother’s old Smith Corona typewriter I found in the utility closet that afternoon rather than a copy of the interview.

…..In closing, I would just like to add that no discussion of this truly fascinating individual can be considered complete without a mention of his unique approach to the art of conversation. And as anyone who has ever spent any time in his presence will readily tell you, the man spoke with a street smart eloquence that was as clean and honest as the notes he played whenever he picked up a guitar.

Rest In Peace Michael (1943-1981)

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David Eugene Everard lives on the west coast of Canada and draws considerable inspiration from the Pacific Ocean.

He would like to thank Bloomfield biographer David Dann for his assistance with this project

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