The biggest problem for beginner musicians is that first step out of the bedroom.
You’ve been busy practicing away; you play for friends and family, but of course they’re not going to criticize, or give advice.
And that’s not what you’re looking for when you’re playing for loved ones. Picking out your amateur chords on grandma’s couch.
At some point though, every musician must make the conscious choice to “get out there.”
Over the last four decades, The Chicken Farm Pickers Circle has been the first stop for anyone who was making that careful first foray into public performance.
The original group meets on the first Saturday each month, though there’s usually a jam every weekend.
A Judgement-Free Place To Learn
“Our commission from Roger Allen was that everyone is welcome; all levels, all genres, all interpretations,” says Don Gabbert, who’s been playing in the circle since day one.
“And, that we be supportive and positive about everybody’s performance. Nobody will judge you, and that’s a good thing, because nobody wants to be judged.”
The circle meets in the corner by the kilns, underneath well rigged shade cloth that makes playing into the late August afternoon possible.
Chairs and music stands are set up, although most musicians these days have moved to playing off iPads and tablets, which are less likely to blow away when the painted wood fences all around you catch the wind.
Step Right Up!
All you have to do is introduce yourself, and say what song you’re playing.
As Gabbert emphasized, anyone is welcome to play whatever they want. (Just a tip; it’s always good to start with some old classic country and folk — something that everyone might already know.)
The musicians in the circle on any given Saturday might have a hundred years of experience between them, which is crucial for a beginner. And the folks here are always willing to share that knowledge by the bushel.
“That’s why I’ve been coming here for 40 years.” Gabbert continued, “I started back when they first decided to do a Pickers Circle, and the new owners have continued that concept.
It’s Weekly Now
“I come for First Saturdays (the first of the month), but they’re doing it every Saturday now.”
“Everybody is welcome, so please bring more musicians!”
Gabbert leans back and starts picking out a tune, from an old obscure Ray Charles album, he says.
A lady joins in with a flute, a gentleman with some spoons for simple percussion.
A Circle For Lovers of Tradition
Across the way, the Shady Grove Pickers meet beneath the curling oaks.
Their style is focused on traditional folk, especially Bluegrass and Irish.
“Anyone that wants to play traditional, old time, or Irish is welcome, we do a variety.” says Charis Worden, who plays alongside her husband Gary. She plays a dulcimer; he’s on violin.
Instruments they made by hand, out of mesquite and other native woods, which look marvelous under the late morning sun.
They play Black Mountain Rag, a tune made popular by the late, great Doc Watson. And if you don’t know who he is, stop reading immediately and go educate yourself.
Mr. Alexander
David Alexander, the longtime leader of the circle, left for Tulsa in 2024.
I, and a lot of musicians about my age, first played in the Pickers Circle under his watchful eye.
Having played with so many great musicians, Alexander’s standards weren’t high, or “stuck-up” I should say, but he was going to let you know how you could improve your style.
He was an old-school music man, and the standards of that time have faded away. My overwhelming recollection of him was that he wanted you to realize your full potential.
And like all fine, old gentlemen in West Texas, he would give the boys a hard time.
One time, I was hanging around with a friend of mine at a jam somewhere else in town, both dressed like bohemian hillbillies.
I think I hadn’t shaved in about two weeks, and I was wearing a knit hat at the time, which was actually a tote bag I had folded up to look like a hat (please save your questions), cut-off blue jeans, and a Hawaiian shirt that was about three-sizes too big — and rope sandals.
My colleague beside me, was equally scruffy.
He took one look at us and said: “you guys look like sh*t.”
We did, for the record.
We burst out laughing, but in his deadpan style he said “really guys, its unbecoming of any Chicken Picker.”
He had a sort of Don Rickles style about him, that made you feel at ease.
For a young musician, that kind of ribbing is really the thing that makes you stick around in a scene. The instant familiarity shown by him and the other mentors of the San Angelo scene.
All local musicians of any talent level should mark their calendars for every first Saturday of the month. You may learn more in two hours than you have in the last year.
