During the 1980s, before there was a Manny's Car Wash or a Terra Blues or a B.B. King's Bar & Grill on 42nd Street, Dan Lynch's was about the only bona fide blues experience to be had in Manhattan. Located on Second Avenue near the corner of 14th Street, it was a lowdown, smoky watering hole featuring cheap drinks and live sounds nightly until two. For author Adam Gussow it was "a warm, ragged, dependable base of operations"; he used to blow his harp there with uptown mystic-philosopher-guitarist, Mister Satan. Among the other "blacks and whites, Brooklynites and Parisians, stockbrokers and postal workers, guitarists and harpists and sax players and drummers" who held the gig at Lynch's were Nat Riddles, Slapmeat Johnson, Frankie Paris, and a corpulent young guitar slinger named Ted Horowitz. (Known to the world today as Popa Chubby.)

The Holmes Brothers emerged from that downtown scene: three Virginians who'd all settled in New York and eventually got together around a simmering pot of soul, blues and gospel music. Sherman came north in '59, following a promising job with a singer named Jimmy Jones. He drafted his younger brother Wendell into action when he finished school. Later, Wendell met drummer Popsy Dixon in a tri-state area trio they played in for about a decade. When that outfit disbanded, the two of them joined Sherman and a harmonica player named Bill Dicey and began appearing regularly at Dan Lynch's Blues Bar, which opened in '79. It wasn't until 1987 that producer Andy Breslau, jamming at Lynch's, discovered the glorious noise the Holmes Brothers had become. "Here was a band with a feel all its own, three compelling vocalists, and unsigned to boot. A producer's dream come true," he recalled in the notes to Jubilation, the group's all-gospel release. Breslau would go on to co-produce several of their albums on Rounder Records, including In the Spirit (1989), Where It's At (1991), Soul Street (1994) and Promised Land (1997). With regular releases and concert schedule that doesn't quit, the group has made waves well beyond the east side of Manhattan. They've toured the world for the U.S. State Department, played at Clinton campaign events, appeared in and recorded the soundtrack to the movie Lotto Land and were the first American artists to participate in Peter Gabriel's Real World Recording weeks.

On this cool September evening, the brothers are gathered around a corner table in the pub they'll be performing in a few hours later. Wendell Holmes, the guitarist, is cracking jokes, keeping the bar help off-guard. Sherman, four years his senior, seems imperturbable and quiet, as is many a bass player; only when a round of beer is offered does he become emotional. "I can't drink beer. I'm allergic to it. I haven't had a beer since 1962. And I loved it!" Honorary brother Willie "Popsy" Dixon is a striking man. There is much that is beautiful about him, including his speaking voice in the rare moments when he chooses to use it. When silent, his intense gaze can remind one of a death row inmate.

We start by revisiting the days of Dan Lynch. The Holmeses are hardly sentimental about it. Wendell rattles off the names of some of the clubs that have since filled the void. Popsy reviews B.B. King's new club. He likes it. We begin talking about their newest album, Church, due out in early 2001.

Wendell: We like it. It's a little bit different. We have Joan Osborne producing it. She's an old friend of ours from the Lynch's days, before she had her big hit. So, one hand washes the other, you know.

MSF: And it was recorded at Long View Farms?

Sherman: It's a recording compound. You go there and you live, the food is catered and you stay there until you finish your album. Or until your money runs out.

MSF: Which was it in this case?

Sherman: We finished the album.

Wendell: Well, it wasn't our money!

Sherman: It took us about a week.

Wendell: But you know, groups like ours, we try to rehearse a lot before we go in the studio to save money. We're not just there laying around like rock stars. "Well, er, I don't feel like it today." When we go in the studio, we go to work.

MSF: Your records have the feeling of being live.

Wendell: We try to get that effect. It's not live, but that's a compliment. We thank you.

MSF: But still, it sounds like you've already played it as a band.

Wendell: Exactly.

MSF: Do you try out new songs on the road?

Sherman: You mean before we go to record?

Wendell: : Very little.

MSF: I want to ask you about something I read recently. In an interview, Irma Thomas she said she likes to keep soul and gospel separate. She does her church singing in church, and if someone asks her to sing a gospel song at one of her club shows, she tells them to come down to church on Sunday. She doesn't believe in singing gospel music to a barroom crowd.

Wendell: Well, I'll tell you, I'm glad you asked that question. And my brothers will expound on it. But you know, The Bible says that (he moves close to the microphone, adopts the measured speech of a Baptist preacher): the word must go out to all generations, even into the dens of iniquity. Meaning the bars! I don't care where I am. If I say that God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, it's true whether it's in the bar, Irma, or in church. It makes no difference if a drunk says to you, "Jesus Christ is Lord!" It's still true. So we have no problem singing gospel in the clubs.

Sherman: Jesus himself went into these types of places.

Wendell: That's what he did. Remember, another thing about Jesus: he turned water into wine, Irma! Not wine into water.

MSF: Have you had a run in with Irma?

Wendell: No. Actually, she's a good friend.

Sherman: Some people feel very strongly on both sides. Probably more strongly on Irma's side. But I think it doesn't matter where you make people feel wanted and loved. It doesn't matter where you are, man.

MSF: Can I ask you about some songs you've recorded, and how specifically, they became part of the band's repertoire? "I Surrender All," for example. (The band would open its show that evening with a stirring version featuring the three-part harmonies for which they are deservedly famous.)

Wendell: Actually, I'm the one who brought that particular song to the group. My wife is a great singer. She does not sing professionally, but she's a good singer and her family are somewhat professional and they recorded an album with that on there. I just liked it so much that I asked my brothers if they were willing to do it. And they said, well, why not, old man? (Wendell continually refers to his "brothers" even though Popsy is a Dixon, not a Holmes.)

MSF: "The Final Round."

Sherman: I wrote that.

Wendell: As a matter of fact, I'm not patting my brother on the back, but he's a great songwriter. And we call this young man (indicating Popsy) the secret weapon. When he hits his high notes, the ladies go "oooooooooh".

MSF: "I Found A Winner."

Wendell: Did Dan Penn write that song? Our producer brought that to the table. And who's to argue with the producer?

MSF: So they forced it on you?

Wendell: Kind of. It's a great song, actually.

MSF: What about your Beatles Song? (The Holmeses recorded "And I Love Her" on 1997's Promised Land and continue to perform it live.)

Wendell: That's a song that has been in our repertoire for about thirty years. At least 25. And we just decided to put it on one of our recordings. People like it. The Tom Waits song we do, "The Train Song" that Popsy sings . . . when we decided to record it, I was not real gung ho about it. But people love that song. And personally, through my own ignorance, I was not aware of the song. I hate to say that, but our producers brought that one, also. And it turned out real well. It's a showstopper.

Sherman: There are thousands of songs out there that you've never heard of. I never heard it before the producer brought it, and I like certain stuff by Tom Waits. Especially "Waltzing Matilda."

Wendell: Oh yeah! I love the way he does that. He's not Australian, is he?

Sherman: No. He lives right there in New York.

Wendell: No joke!

MSF: Where are you headed on the current tour?

Wendell: Germany, Austria, Holland, Turkey, Russia, Romania, Spain. Then home for about ten days. Then we come back for the State Department . . . you know we work for the CIA? . . . to go to Bulgaria. Then in February we hit Sweden and Denmark. As a matter of fact, just this week we got back from Brazil for the government, also.

MSF: How long is this tour if you're going all these places?

Wendell: We'll be home around the beginning of December for a week or ten days. Then we're off to Bulgaria. You got to feed the family!

MSF: Do you all still live in New York?

Wendell: I live in Baltimore.

Popsy: I live in Manhattan.

Sherman: I live in the Bronx.

MSF: So you just get together on the tours?

Wendell: We tour all the time!

At this point Chris, the bartender/manager, arrives with the round of drinks. "We gonna have to leave you," declares Wendell, anxious to sack out at the hotel. We officially conclude the interview, Sherman looks forlornly at his glass of orange juice, Popsy starts talking drum talk when he notices a vintage kit stowed overhead.

Fairly little has changed for the Holmeses in twenty years. They still spend most of their time playing to small, enthusiastic crowds in places not all that far removed from the Manhattan dive in which they got their start. Incidentally, Dan Lynch's Blues Bar closed down in the mid-90s amidst rumors of unpaid back rent. The building at 221 Second Avenue was subsequently condemned. Today, there's a swank lounge there, a doorman outside, and DJs spinning nightly. "It's a cigar bar," explains Popsy Dixon. "Where men and women go and smoke cigars and drink all night." Somehow, he fails to see the attraction.

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