So there I was, sitting out in New York, the supposed land of opportunity, which was quickly proving to be anything but. I needed out, but I sure as hell didn't want to go back and sit around in my piss ant little town. I was stuck in a no win situation……that is, until I saw that Doyle Bramhall, one of my all time favorite artists was playing a few shows in Arizona! Now, I don't want to say that I dropped out because of these shows haha, but lets just say my bags were packed soon afterwards.
Just as in New Orleans earlier this year, I was forced to get in contact w/ the club and try and work something out in order to gain entry (I can be shipped to a foreign land to kill and die against my will, but I cant listen to the music of my choice w/o setting of a chain of emails from here to Uzbekistan). Unlike New Orleans, however, this place was far less willing to work w/ me. The date was fast approaching, and, w/ nowhere else to turn, I called in the favor of all favors; and it was settled! I would arrive early and help load in, therefore appearing to the venue as a member of the crew. Words really cant express how grateful I was (and still am haha). There really wasn't too much to do, the two actual crew guys seemed to have a pretty good handle on things, but I did whatever I could, and was got the chance to talk to some cool folks. I was hoping on the off chance that Denny would be playing, since Dylan isn't on tour right now. He wasn't, but another guy from the 3-D Blues Band was; the bassist Jim Milan! Actually, aside from guitarist Nick Curran, the band was completely different then the one I'd seen him w/ in NOLA, I'd heard of the other guitarists (Casper Rawls and Kirk Fletcher) but wasn't familiar w/ their playing, and I was pretty excited to finally be seeing Jim in person, so when we left at 7 for doors to open, I had high hopes.
Just an aside, but I think when hell freezes over, the devil will live in Phoenix……. and he will complain about how hot it is! The high that day was supposed to be 100 (I believe it), but when we left the club, it had been dark for at least a half an hour, and it was still hot as shit! When I got back to my hotel, weather.com or whatever informed me it was still 97. Who willingly takes up residence here?!?!?!?!
When we all went back, we found a fairly packed house, which is never a bad thing. I stepped back from moving a folding table, and felt a tap on the shoulder. A younger looking guy, looking a bit uncomfortable, attempts to look tough while wringing his hands.
- Uh, are you, actually, like, 21?
- What? (I'd forgotten that I wasn't technically supposed to be there)
- Have you turned 21 yet?
- I have to be here…
- What was that?
- I have to be here. I work for these guys. (He stares at me.) I'm the Merch Guy (my predetermined "title" in case something like this came up), I have to be here. This is my job. Ask those guys.
- Oh, I see. I'm sorry.
Yeah, you better just keep walkin there haha. Nah, he was just doing his job too, and after that incident, no one bothered me for the rest of the night.
The show started on a very high note. They opened w/ Lost In The Congo and the people flooded onto the dance floor. They all seemed to really dig the first few tunes, which include Shape I'm In, Sugar, and Dyin W/ The Flu, but they really seemed to calm down after that, content to sit at their tables and sip their beers, which is really their loss, why anyone would sit through The Hunter, or I'm A Bad Boy or, for fuck's sake, Thunderbird (!) is beyond me. The band absolutely tore though. Casper is really an exceptional guitarist. He's the guy a lot of Dylan fans like to pretend Freddie Koella was, except this guy can actuallyplay! (also a very nice guy, which I'd find out later). Kirk too, played a mean guitar all night. For a few songs, Freddie Cisneros sat in, and regret that I cannot comment more on him, but a wild cat was loose that night, and I was trying not to be a complete asshole about it haha. House Rockin and Change It (predictably) got the crowd moving a bit more, as Stevie co-writes usually do, but overall everyone was a lot mellower then I'd originally pegged them for. Again, their loss, because it really was an excellent show all around.
I'd originally planned to make the 4 hour drive to Bisbee that night, but instead opted to just stay an extra night in Phoenix when, at 2 am, I still wasn't out of there yet.
Bisbee has got to be one of the most interesting little towns in America. A copper mining boom town build literally into the side of the hills, it reminded me of pictures of an Italian villa, and the guys who I was w/ who'd actually been to Europe concurred. It was really nice the next day when everyone was gone, but when roughly 3000 people converge upon it for a one day festival, things can get a bit, erm, cramped. Luckily my car isn't much bigger then a Shriner's parade car, so I can put it almost anywhere, but I felt sorry for the poor saps eternally circling the full lots. If I may make one suggestion to the festival organizers, its that they put a sign up when a lot is full.
Supposedly, Bisbee is one of the most haunted cities in AZ, but it seemed the only thing to have died around there are cell phone calls; literally one end of a bench will have service while the other side (less then 4 feet away) will get nothing. You'll be walking around a corner and suddenly your pocket will come alive w/ all the voice mails and missed calls you've accrued, but when you need to make a call, you'll never have service in the same place twice. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have cared, but when you're in a larger group and cant get a hold of anyone else, it becomes a bit of an issue.
None the less, tonight's show was great as well. Not too many changes to the previous nights set, but the crowd was FAR more into it, dancing and cheering and carrying on. At the last minute, a video camera was sprung on me, so I tried to get some interesting shots, but I hadn't had any time to think about it, and I had a bitch of a time just figuring out the zoom, so apologies in advance should you ever find yourself watching my footage haha The band was still in top form though, and was easily the best act of the day. If you're any sort of fan of good music, you really owe it to yourself to seek Doyle out, trust me on this one.
I spent the next day just hanging out w/ a couple of friends, wandering through Tombstone and whatever, just generally being tourists. We'd gotten there too late to actually see one of the gunfights they put on, but still got to look around and see where various folks got shot, died, partied, etc, etc, etc as well as places to buy refrigerator magnets! haha It was a blast.
My only regret is that I did not see any ghosts. The first night I didn't know, but the second night, my friend told me that the hotel I was in was one of the original in Bisbee. I was in one of the original rooms where all the Wild West shit took place, and as such, it was supposed to be haunted. I didn't hear anything, see anything, imagine anything, no specters, no spirits, no apparitions…….the damn floor didn't even creak all night! What a drag! haha
Even though staying in town the extra day meant having to drive from the edge of the country across the barren wasteland known as AZ on my actual b'day date, I could not have asked for a cooler or more fun way to spend my birthday weekend then the way I did, easily the best birthday I've ever had. Nothing I could have been doing in New York could even have hoped to compare to this. Words cant express how much I appreciate all that was done for me. And it occurred to me, somewhere between the vast expanses of baked dust and the cactus covered hills, that this almost didnt happen. I almost never talked to Doyle down there in New Orleans that afternoon in April. I actually turned around and walked away before I went back in. I didn't think someone of his caliber'd care what I'd have to say……..
Showing posts with label Doyle Bramhall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Doyle Bramhall. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Doyle Bramhall is the MAN!!!
Never in my life would I ever have pictured myself in New Orleans. I have honestly never had the desire to go. Especially to anything called Jazz Fest, since I am far from a Dixieland fan. So in January, when glancing over the lineup, I wasn't expecting much.
That is, until I saw Doyle Bramhall was going to be playing. Right then and there I made up my mind; I had to get down to New Orleans! I had been listening to his latest record all but nonstop since about November and found it to be one of, if not the best new record of 07, but had written off ever seeing him; Colorado is not exactly a prime stopover for rarely touring Texans.
Fast forward almost 5 months, and I am finally sitting in the Blues Tent. We didn't get there as early as I would have liked to, but nonetheless, I am able to find a (basically the last available) seat front and center. Sat through 2 other acts, who were, surprisingly, quite entertaining and aurally pleasing. Then finally it was time for Doyle.
The way the chairs were set up there was about 10 foot aisle between the front row and the rails for folks to come up and take pictures. Enough of those people come up, and pretty soon you're 5 people deep, so I ended up sitting in front of the rails w/ my cell camera in hand to give the impression I was taking pictures. About halfway through, this old guy comes and begins just pacing the rails, telling folks to go back to their seats. Ok, we step back and let him on by and he continues along his merry way. Of course, as soon as his back is turned, everyone sits back down in front of the rails again. This absurd game continued until the end of the set, but it was a minor inconvenience.
The only song that I really wanted to hear of the new album was Big, and we got that, plus a ton of others (didn't write down the set). He opened w/ Change It, and later played Lookin' Out The Window, and I wondered how many other folks saw the photo of Stevie at Jazz Fest hanging on the wall house left. They played a few songs from CC Adcock's record as well, which I wasn't really familiar w/, but left thinking I should do something about that. The band, The Lafayette Marquis, were stellar. I really dug the double drummer thing, and man, that bassist, Jason Burns, that guy can play! He's one of those guys who simultaneously makes you want to both practice 24/7, and quit playing altogether cause you're never going to reach that level.
There was an interview w/ Bramhall scheduled a bit later in a different part of the fairgrounds, so I made my way over to that stage. Caught the end of a band, Twangorama, and again, had no complaints about being "forced" to listen. The interview wasn't anything particularly enlightening; the interview-er was a bit of an idiot, and if you have any interest at all in that Austin/Dallas scene, you probably already knew the answers, but the last answer involved him talking about the last time he ever talked to Stevie, after which he and CC played Life By The Drop, which, given the context, was beautiful. They also played an acoustic….either Lost In The Congo, or Cryin (honestly, I cant remember which) before leaving.
The "backstage" area was, of course, cordoned off, but there was a patio that went right up to it. After Doyle left the stage, a guy ran up onto the patio and began talking to him over the railing. I entertained the possibility of doing to same, but, as I've said many times, I'm not into bothering people if I've got nothing to say to them. I haven't played drums since 7th grade, I didn't really think I'd have anything to talk w/ him about, so I decided I'd leave him in peace. Right after I made my decision, I though "ya know, this opportunity is never going to present itself again" and figured I might as well just shake his hand and say that I'd been really digging an old 3D Blues Band tape for awhile. While waiting, I exchanged a few quick words w/ his drum tech.
I didn't get to talk to him very long, I was beginning to lose my voice and he had to get going, but we were able to talk about the loss of the Austin scene and his new record for a minute. He's an incredibly nice guy. At this point, the trip had definitely proved to be worth the cost.
Later that night, he was playing a club down in the quarter. Since he was the only reason I was going down there, I had worked something out w/ the owner ahead of time so I could get in……….and holy shit, was it ever worth it!!!!!!! Like I said, living in Colorado, we have no blues clubs (hell, you cant even smoke inside of any CO building), so while listening to old live shows, I had to be content w/ just closing my eyes and imagining what it must have been like. That night I finally got to experience it. Low, tiny stage, dim lights, smoke filled air, drunks packed in, me standing in front of the monitor, less then 6 feet from everything……..this is the way this music was meant to be heard, and man, did they ever play! Opened w/ Change It again, but I was far more excited to hear Thunderbird, a song I would have never even dreamed of ever seeing live! There's no possible way I can remember all that they played that first set, but it was all so incredible. They broke for intermission, and the man on my left, who had been sitting on an equipment chest because there was no room onstage for it, got up and left, so I took his spot. Hell, I'd been standing all day and had slept maybe an hour that night. When the drum tech (I missed his name) came out, he immediately recognized me from earlier that day. We talked a bit, and he went about his business. On his way back out, he asked me if I had a camera.
"Just this" I said, pointing to my cell.
"You want to get a picture w/ Doyle?"
"Uh……." I'm really not a picture hunter, talking w/ him earlier was more then I ever could have asked for. I didn't know what to say. I stumbled, "Uh, I, uh, yeah, uh, ok, I mean, if he's got nothing better…..I don't wanta….."
"Ok, after the show, man…." and he leaves.
They come back .. about an hour and pick right up where they left off, just cranking out one tune after another. I am practically sitting onstage right now, eye line w/ both drummers and almost on top of Nick Curran, an exceptional guitarist in his own right. Apparently they'd been billed as Doyle, CC, band and special guest and about halfway though the second set, there were rumors running through the folks behind me that Robert Plant was going to be that special guest. I was hoping that wouldn't happen (it didn't!). A few songs after the Plant rumor rose and fell, the band just started cranking out song after song, just plowin through everything w/o even stopping between songs, and here I thought they'd been in high gear before! This went on seemingly forever, and as I sat on the box taking it all in, my only thought was that they don't stop. And they didn't! Man!
Dylan is what he is, and you cant compare him to this. That Friday Dallas show was easily the best show I've ever seen, but this, this whole experience, and the music, and everything, best experience I've ever had. I cant really compare Dylan in a small club to being packed into a smoky bar listening to the best form of blues, its oranges and carrots, this was mindblowing! Truly ineffable, what a great experience it was!
The show wrapped up anywhere from 3.30 to 4, I have no idea exactly when, but all I could so was sit there in a daze, not believing what happened, not wanting to leave.
"Stu!" I look over. Oh, right, the picture.
The drum tech waves me into the back yard. Get to talk to Doyle again (this time, I have NO recollection what we talked about). Met his wife, nice gal, both she and the drum tech took our pictures, (I got yelled at for not smiling haha), somebody handed Doyle an index card which he signed for me. I gave the drum tech my email so they could send me the pictures………..there is no conceivable way that night could have gone ANY better!
The next day, we drove out to Lafayette where he had a gig at the Grant St. Dance Hall. Nice place. Before the show, I got to talk to a guy who'd seen Stevie a lot (I was 23 months old when he was killed, I love hearing from those who got to see him). Said he'd seen him a couple times in 82 when, aside from the bartender and a waiter, there'd been less then 15 people in the audience. This too was an incredible show, this time opening w/ Sugar. Everyone on stage seemed to be completely beat as well, but still put on one hell of a show. There was a woman in the audience who put on a show herself, doing a spot on impression of a dancing Mick Jagger (though, when you stop and think, its pretty frightening that two people on this planet do that haha). They closed the main set w/ Hard To Be, another one I'd never in a million years ever thought I'd be witnessing.
During the standing ovation, Doyle caught my eye so I gave him the thumbs up. He flicked his hand up at me. There were some pads on the wall behind him, and it must have been perfectly aligned w/ one of the stripes in the pads, because it took a second before I saw the stick flying at me! I guess the woman next to me got jealous and wanted a stick for herself, so she ran up and grabbed the other drummer's sticks. The tech let her keep them, provided she stay off the stage for the rest of the night. Once she got down, they came back on for an encore, a medley of a bunch of songs that included Rainy Day Women.
Back in January, Doyle's website/myspace thing listed a free show in a record store on Monday, starting at 1 pm, so I booked a late flight out. Well, as it turns out, the show did start at 1……..but Doyle didn't go on until 5 pm. My flight was at 6.30, there was no way I'd have been able to see Doyle and make the flight, so after the through soakdown we got Sunday afternoon, I opted to just go to the airport and try to fly standby out on an earlier flight. I had maybe slept 8 hours since Wednesday night, and since I was going to miss Doyle anyway………
Well, all flights (w/ the exception of one overbooked DFW flight) had left for the night. Now, I don't exactly mind spending a few hours in the airport, but since my pants were beyond wet, I only had a pair of shorts. My only pair of shoes were still soaked, and there was absolutely NOWHERE in that airport you could have sat where you weren't getting hit by at least 7 different air conditioners coming at you from all different angles. Now, I hate AC when its hot out and I'm dry……….unequivocally the worst night I've ever spent. Abso-fucking-lutely FRIGID! Needless to say, no sleep was to be had.
It was worth it though, I was the LAST person to board the first flight out, and got back to my house at 10.30 am. On the bus back (well, it began at the NOLA airport but intensified on the bus), I experienced a short circuit in my brain quite unlike anything I had ever experienced in my life, from any substance or combination thereof.
Though I would have killed to stay and see the show in the record shop, I couldn't have asked for a better experience. It was worth every damn penny I spend (roughly 100,000 pennies haha) and so much more. I'd see Doyle again in a heartbeat, and since a stop in CO still appears unlikely, I may find myself heading back down to TX, hopefully at a time when Dylan's not on tour so I can see Denny as well haha
That is, until I saw Doyle Bramhall was going to be playing. Right then and there I made up my mind; I had to get down to New Orleans! I had been listening to his latest record all but nonstop since about November and found it to be one of, if not the best new record of 07, but had written off ever seeing him; Colorado is not exactly a prime stopover for rarely touring Texans.
Fast forward almost 5 months, and I am finally sitting in the Blues Tent. We didn't get there as early as I would have liked to, but nonetheless, I am able to find a (basically the last available) seat front and center. Sat through 2 other acts, who were, surprisingly, quite entertaining and aurally pleasing. Then finally it was time for Doyle.
The way the chairs were set up there was about 10 foot aisle between the front row and the rails for folks to come up and take pictures. Enough of those people come up, and pretty soon you're 5 people deep, so I ended up sitting in front of the rails w/ my cell camera in hand to give the impression I was taking pictures. About halfway through, this old guy comes and begins just pacing the rails, telling folks to go back to their seats. Ok, we step back and let him on by and he continues along his merry way. Of course, as soon as his back is turned, everyone sits back down in front of the rails again. This absurd game continued until the end of the set, but it was a minor inconvenience.
The only song that I really wanted to hear of the new album was Big, and we got that, plus a ton of others (didn't write down the set). He opened w/ Change It, and later played Lookin' Out The Window, and I wondered how many other folks saw the photo of Stevie at Jazz Fest hanging on the wall house left. They played a few songs from CC Adcock's record as well, which I wasn't really familiar w/, but left thinking I should do something about that. The band, The Lafayette Marquis, were stellar. I really dug the double drummer thing, and man, that bassist, Jason Burns, that guy can play! He's one of those guys who simultaneously makes you want to both practice 24/7, and quit playing altogether cause you're never going to reach that level.
There was an interview w/ Bramhall scheduled a bit later in a different part of the fairgrounds, so I made my way over to that stage. Caught the end of a band, Twangorama, and again, had no complaints about being "forced" to listen. The interview wasn't anything particularly enlightening; the interview-er was a bit of an idiot, and if you have any interest at all in that Austin/Dallas scene, you probably already knew the answers, but the last answer involved him talking about the last time he ever talked to Stevie, after which he and CC played Life By The Drop, which, given the context, was beautiful. They also played an acoustic….either Lost In The Congo, or Cryin (honestly, I cant remember which) before leaving.
The "backstage" area was, of course, cordoned off, but there was a patio that went right up to it. After Doyle left the stage, a guy ran up onto the patio and began talking to him over the railing. I entertained the possibility of doing to same, but, as I've said many times, I'm not into bothering people if I've got nothing to say to them. I haven't played drums since 7th grade, I didn't really think I'd have anything to talk w/ him about, so I decided I'd leave him in peace. Right after I made my decision, I though "ya know, this opportunity is never going to present itself again" and figured I might as well just shake his hand and say that I'd been really digging an old 3D Blues Band tape for awhile. While waiting, I exchanged a few quick words w/ his drum tech.
I didn't get to talk to him very long, I was beginning to lose my voice and he had to get going, but we were able to talk about the loss of the Austin scene and his new record for a minute. He's an incredibly nice guy. At this point, the trip had definitely proved to be worth the cost.
Later that night, he was playing a club down in the quarter. Since he was the only reason I was going down there, I had worked something out w/ the owner ahead of time so I could get in……….and holy shit, was it ever worth it!!!!!!! Like I said, living in Colorado, we have no blues clubs (hell, you cant even smoke inside of any CO building), so while listening to old live shows, I had to be content w/ just closing my eyes and imagining what it must have been like. That night I finally got to experience it. Low, tiny stage, dim lights, smoke filled air, drunks packed in, me standing in front of the monitor, less then 6 feet from everything……..this is the way this music was meant to be heard, and man, did they ever play! Opened w/ Change It again, but I was far more excited to hear Thunderbird, a song I would have never even dreamed of ever seeing live! There's no possible way I can remember all that they played that first set, but it was all so incredible. They broke for intermission, and the man on my left, who had been sitting on an equipment chest because there was no room onstage for it, got up and left, so I took his spot. Hell, I'd been standing all day and had slept maybe an hour that night. When the drum tech (I missed his name) came out, he immediately recognized me from earlier that day. We talked a bit, and he went about his business. On his way back out, he asked me if I had a camera.
"Just this" I said, pointing to my cell.
"You want to get a picture w/ Doyle?"
"Uh……." I'm really not a picture hunter, talking w/ him earlier was more then I ever could have asked for. I didn't know what to say. I stumbled, "Uh, I, uh, yeah, uh, ok, I mean, if he's got nothing better…..I don't wanta….."
"Ok, after the show, man…." and he leaves.
They come back .. about an hour and pick right up where they left off, just cranking out one tune after another. I am practically sitting onstage right now, eye line w/ both drummers and almost on top of Nick Curran, an exceptional guitarist in his own right. Apparently they'd been billed as Doyle, CC, band and special guest and about halfway though the second set, there were rumors running through the folks behind me that Robert Plant was going to be that special guest. I was hoping that wouldn't happen (it didn't!). A few songs after the Plant rumor rose and fell, the band just started cranking out song after song, just plowin through everything w/o even stopping between songs, and here I thought they'd been in high gear before! This went on seemingly forever, and as I sat on the box taking it all in, my only thought was that they don't stop. And they didn't! Man!
Dylan is what he is, and you cant compare him to this. That Friday Dallas show was easily the best show I've ever seen, but this, this whole experience, and the music, and everything, best experience I've ever had. I cant really compare Dylan in a small club to being packed into a smoky bar listening to the best form of blues, its oranges and carrots, this was mindblowing! Truly ineffable, what a great experience it was!
The show wrapped up anywhere from 3.30 to 4, I have no idea exactly when, but all I could so was sit there in a daze, not believing what happened, not wanting to leave.
"Stu!" I look over. Oh, right, the picture.
The drum tech waves me into the back yard. Get to talk to Doyle again (this time, I have NO recollection what we talked about). Met his wife, nice gal, both she and the drum tech took our pictures, (I got yelled at for not smiling haha), somebody handed Doyle an index card which he signed for me. I gave the drum tech my email so they could send me the pictures………..there is no conceivable way that night could have gone ANY better!
The next day, we drove out to Lafayette where he had a gig at the Grant St. Dance Hall. Nice place. Before the show, I got to talk to a guy who'd seen Stevie a lot (I was 23 months old when he was killed, I love hearing from those who got to see him). Said he'd seen him a couple times in 82 when, aside from the bartender and a waiter, there'd been less then 15 people in the audience. This too was an incredible show, this time opening w/ Sugar. Everyone on stage seemed to be completely beat as well, but still put on one hell of a show. There was a woman in the audience who put on a show herself, doing a spot on impression of a dancing Mick Jagger (though, when you stop and think, its pretty frightening that two people on this planet do that haha). They closed the main set w/ Hard To Be, another one I'd never in a million years ever thought I'd be witnessing.
During the standing ovation, Doyle caught my eye so I gave him the thumbs up. He flicked his hand up at me. There were some pads on the wall behind him, and it must have been perfectly aligned w/ one of the stripes in the pads, because it took a second before I saw the stick flying at me! I guess the woman next to me got jealous and wanted a stick for herself, so she ran up and grabbed the other drummer's sticks. The tech let her keep them, provided she stay off the stage for the rest of the night. Once she got down, they came back on for an encore, a medley of a bunch of songs that included Rainy Day Women.
Back in January, Doyle's website/myspace thing listed a free show in a record store on Monday, starting at 1 pm, so I booked a late flight out. Well, as it turns out, the show did start at 1……..but Doyle didn't go on until 5 pm. My flight was at 6.30, there was no way I'd have been able to see Doyle and make the flight, so after the through soakdown we got Sunday afternoon, I opted to just go to the airport and try to fly standby out on an earlier flight. I had maybe slept 8 hours since Wednesday night, and since I was going to miss Doyle anyway………
Well, all flights (w/ the exception of one overbooked DFW flight) had left for the night. Now, I don't exactly mind spending a few hours in the airport, but since my pants were beyond wet, I only had a pair of shorts. My only pair of shoes were still soaked, and there was absolutely NOWHERE in that airport you could have sat where you weren't getting hit by at least 7 different air conditioners coming at you from all different angles. Now, I hate AC when its hot out and I'm dry……….unequivocally the worst night I've ever spent. Abso-fucking-lutely FRIGID! Needless to say, no sleep was to be had.
It was worth it though, I was the LAST person to board the first flight out, and got back to my house at 10.30 am. On the bus back (well, it began at the NOLA airport but intensified on the bus), I experienced a short circuit in my brain quite unlike anything I had ever experienced in my life, from any substance or combination thereof.
Though I would have killed to stay and see the show in the record shop, I couldn't have asked for a better experience. It was worth every damn penny I spend (roughly 100,000 pennies haha) and so much more. I'd see Doyle again in a heartbeat, and since a stop in CO still appears unlikely, I may find myself heading back down to TX, hopefully at a time when Dylan's not on tour so I can see Denny as well haha
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