One hot summer night in 1962 at the ol' El-Rey Drive-In Theater in Nowhere, Nevada, the film projector overheated and broke down towards the end of the first flick on a scheduled double-feature. As impatient teens honked their horns at the delay, the frantic drive-in manager located Dark, the custodian he had hired a few weeks back. Dark had materialized one day, looking for some work and had only a small backpack and an oddly shaped instrument case with him. He was hired and did a good job of cleaning up, so much in fact, that he often finished his duties ahead of schedule and spent the balance of his shift sitting on the roof of the projection shack, looking up at the stars and strumming on his Appalachian mountain dulcimer. The manager never minded, in fact, it was nice to hear something other than the dim whine of soundtrack bleeding out of the speakers that hung on every car window. But now, the only sound was a cacophony of horns and angry shouts of "what gives?"

As the story goes, Dark was asked to go up to the small stage in front of the screen, fire up the P.A. that was used for auctions on Sunday mornings and start playing some music to soothe those savage customers. So, Dark went up there as instructed, switched on the sound, set up the microphones and started to play. Well, the kids--they got up out of their cars and walked to the front of the theater so they could hear him better and they never did get that second movie running, but no-one seemed to mind.

Funny thing is, kids started honking after the first film every weekend after that, waiting for Dark to come out and do a little something in between. Dark agreed to do it, but only if he could find a good bass picker and a drummer to complete the trio. Turns out that the concession stand worker, Hippie, had a drum set in his truck and E-Z, the perpetually stoned ticket seller up front, was a bassist. The three of them practiced in the snack bar during the hot Nevada afternoons and the manager took E-Z's shift and sold tickets while the trio played on-stage.

Pretty soon, the kids began showing up at the El-Rey Drive-In specifically for the music.

The trio became known as The El-Reys and performed for a number of years before, one-by-one, they filtered out of Nowhere in search of an existence that wasn't so dusty, boozy and stifling. They left behind a legacy of unusually diverse music that was discovered in 1999 by Bing Futch while driving through the Arizona desert. Calling upon a few friends, a tribute band was created to hold up the legacy of The El-Reys, while creating new music in the Americana spirit that they had pioneered. This is how Mohave was born.

THE MUSIC

Essentially serving as a soundtrack to the stories told by the band, a wide range of musical styles can be found within the songs of Mohave.

With roots in Bing's African/American Indian heritage, the core of the music takes slave chants and spirituals, ceremonial percussiveness and tribal beats, mixing them together with the celtic thunder and southeastern bluegrass tones of the Appalachian mountain dulcimer. Indigenous folk music from all over the world gets woven into the tapestry, with a number of international instruments contributing to the world-beat vibe. Tunes that deal with dusty drunk tanks, star-crossed robbers, Irish immigrants, conflicted bombers, spicy food, interminable interstates and ill-fated gators get appropriate dashes of Dixieland, progressive rock, pop, country, blues, jazz , Tex-Mex, zydeco and soundtrack music.

With a hot combination of fun, compelling stories and catchy tunes, Mohave delivers a tasty table of good-timing, positive music!

THE SHOW

The phrase "hold on to your hats" applies to each and every MOHAVE performance. From the traditional opening tune "Nowhere, Nevada" that sets the stage for each show, Bing is one part storyteller, one part balladeer, another part ringmaster with a solid chunk of tribal wildman at the heart of every second of showtime. The band is a dynamic sideshow of movement, sound and unexpected detours as they lay out an ever-changing array of styles, breaking intense improvisational grooves and following the unpredictable directions in which the dreadlocks fly. When accented by video screens that display imagery behind and around the band, its a fully immersive experience that plays out like a rock musical.

All drama aside, the best moments of a MOHAVE show are those that involve the audience. Whether it's engaging the crowd in sing-alongs, whipping up impromptu ditties for folks with cause for celebration or simply acknowledging and appreciating every group, the love affair between this Americana band and its "extended tribe" is evident at every gig. It's the kind of show that people are still talking about on Monday morning!