Most springtimes, I’m blessed with a visit from my great friend Bryce Krehbiel. Originally a McPherson kid, he’s a left-coaster now. But he reliably returns to his Kansas homeland every year or so, staying a few nights with Miss Juli and me. As a houseguest, his company is incomparable. He cooks, he cleans, he makes coffee in the morning and entertains us with songs and stories late into the night.
Bryce is a guitarist / vocalist / songwriter / troublemaker who performs regularly in the oddly-balanced community of Eugene, Oregon. He plays under the name b.w. krehbiel, and his musical personality is unusual among his regional peers. In a songwriting community dominated by forever-hippie earth mother porridge and twirling faerie nymph absinthe, b.w. krehbiel’s wounded, wondrous voice is a dusty pull from a hip-pocket pint of whiskey, and bittersweet balm to a busted blue-collar heart. His songs are warm and real, and they hurt a little.
So here’s how you got lucky: For this year’s visit, we’ve conspired to share a gig at The Artichoke. Woohooo! This, kids, is going to be an awful lot of fun.
Here it is: Friday, April 25 at the Artichoke Sandwich Bar in Wichita, Back Porch Buddha (that’s me and Dennis) will feature our very special guest and opening act b.w. krehbiel (that’s Bryce). All night long, baby.
Please join us.
Bonus audio, because you need to hear this:
The Story of Us, by b.w. krehbiel
Tin Shed, by b.w. krehbiel
Old Kitchen Table, written by b.w. krehbiel and performed by Pop and The Boys. That’s me singing.