By Martha Heimberg

The strumming starts with the lights-up cue in the Fairmont Hotel's Venetian Room, and two acoustical guitars and a banjo are seen in tight formation, close together and closer to the individual mikes facing each instrument. Behind the two Yahamas and a handsome old Martin is the Kingston Trio of the '80s, and behind them is a drummer, an upright electric base player, and an electronic acoustical guitarist.

What you hear is a determined duplication of the hits of the late '50s and early '60s -- "It's Hard, Ain't It Hart," "Tom Dooley," "M.T.A." It's three-part harmony, major chords, and simple songs so familiar you can sing along. What you see is the group's on original member, Bob Shane, now white-haired but still smilin' and pickin'; George Grove, the banjo player and arranger who joined the group when it reformed in the mid-'70s; and Bob Haworth, a young tenor of only two years standing who carries the melody line (exactly the way Shane did when his voice was the same age) and jokes about Grove's baldness and Shane's grayness.

It's a familiar tune, but an odd evening, actually. Shane fills in some details of the group's background as he jokes with the audience and rejoins everyone to "think back to where you were (when you first heard this), what you were doing, and maybe who you were married to." All chuckle, and the guys follow up with the only slightly wistful ballad in their club program, "In The Early Morning Rain," which sounds like C & W recruited into folk because of its potential harmony.

The kind of time-warp performance achieved by The Kingston Trio and similar name groups with big hits from another era inevitably evokes a slightly unpleasant sentimental / nostalgic response, coupled with a fresh appreciation -- at least, in this case -- of the very real talents that first honed a style vigorous enough to make its creators a household name. You feel everybody loves his guitar and the sound of it.

As the Trio of musicians works its way through the requisite material -- the winning triviality of "It Take A worried Man" and the 50s charm of "Scotch and Soda" -- the audience smiles and nods in recognition. Theirs is not the huge repertoire of a Ray Charles or the Rolling Stones. Nearly all the songs are derived from tunes and lyrics in the public domain, i.e., folk music. Nothing in the words or the delivery of the material -- songs like "Travelin' Man'" or "Here's to the Man Who Drinks Dark Ale" -- is aimed at pulling a heavy emotional chord or head trip from listeners. Not at all. The songs are short, the delivery is loud and crisp, and the effect is easy to read. They aim to entertain, raise a few laughs, and have a good time doing it.

This last saves The Kingston Trio from the sort of utterly worn tedium some resurgence bands project. They're having fun, they still like it up on stage, and so the audience is having fun, too. As Bob Shane puts it, "I'm primarily an entertainer, and secondarily a musician. We started in 1957 at the Purple Onion in San Francisco, and its good to see that something in our music is still appealing to people in the Venetian Room in Dallas thirty years later."

The Kingston Trio, just as you remember hearing them, is appearing for two shows nightly, except Monday, through October 3; for reservations, call 720-2020.

-- Thank you to Barry Martin for sharing this article with the LINER NOTES

Last revised: February 23, 2006.