After a stellar career as an inventor and machinist, FRANK JOHNSON traded his successful orthodontic equipment company for a simpler life in Sonoma County. Having grown up on a farm in upstate New York, he always felt a powerful connection with the earth and sought to become a gentleman farmer. He bought an apple and prune orchard that hugged the Dry Creek and Russian River Valleys, sensing that this unique microclimate would be ideal for growing grapes. And before long Frank was selling his fruit to some of the most highly acclaimed wineries. In 1977, Chateau St. Jean released a “Frank Johnson Vineyards Chardonnay,” making him among the first vineyard designated grape growers. He took tremendous pride in his fruit and dreamed of someday producing a family estate wine. Roshambo Winery, the brainchild of his granddaughter, Naomi Brilliant, is the fulfillment of that dream. Today, Frank’s spirit of innovation and commitment to excellence still resonates in every glass. Here’s to you, Frank! Thanks for making this possible!

(We commissioned Sonoma County emerging artist Todd Barricklow to carve Frank Johnson’s likeness into a ceramic tile. For those of you who frequented Roshambo’s conceptual art shows at the old gallery, I’m sure Todd’s highly distinct style of artwork will be familiar to you as he had two successful openings. Look out for his innovative designs in our future endeavors or find him now at Killing Time Studios).

Call me close-minded or krumudgeonly, but I’ve never been the kind of guy who arrives early to rock shows just to check out the opening act. I go out to see bands that I really love. And they are all I want to see that night. Just like I don’t like being stuck in an elevator with jazzanova, I don’t normally yearn to be stuck in a hot, sweaty club with a gaggle of coked up teens wearing “You Looked Better on MySpace” tee-shirts listening to OMG!!! some shitty band that should think about trading their mascara in for a brand new sound. Clubs are not where I normally discover new bands. That’s what the internet and friend’s iPods are for. If I hate it, I can flip the switch. But fortunately for me, in the summer of 2001 I misjudged the time Pete Yorn was performing at Bottom of the Hill in SF. I arrived as the opening act took the stage and by the end of the night I was thinking “Pete Who?” The opening act was called OURS and the banshee behind the mic was named Jimmy Gnecco.

I had seen countless shows in my life but I had never ever heard anything like him in my life. Jimmy Gnecco’s voice could give Satan the chills. Listening to it was like riding a super looper rollercoaster for the very first time. Or to quote our friend Tiffanie DeBartolo’s second novel “How To Kill A Rock Star,” it is “…a voice that swept up and down the scale and was, at times, filled with deep, lush, apocalyptic emotion, and at other times was a burning falsetto of hope and love and seemed too big to come from his throat, lungs, or diaphragm. From his soul, I decided.” She’s describing the voice of a fictional character named Paul Hudson, which she willingly admits was “inspired by Jimmy’s beautiful voice.” But it wasn’t just his voice. It was everything about him. He had a stage presence and energy that set the bar so high that nowadays I’m often let down by live performances. He’s another beast, something you have to see to believe.

Without further ado, I strenously suggest you watch this music video for “Sometimes” off of their first album, Distorted Lullabies. Then I’ll blather on some more…

Now since I’m that shameless groupie guy who tends to linger near the tour bus long after the show to personally share my exhilaration (and weed) with band members, I ended up meeting Jimmy that night outside the club. I’m not sure how or why we clicked, but we did and over the years he’s become a close confidante of mine. We even flew him out from NJ to play our first Pirate Prom in 2005.

So why am I telling you all of this? Because OURS is on tour right now in support of their forthcoming third album, Dancing for the Death of an Imaginary Enemy. Produced by music maven Rick Ruben, these songs will rip your still-beating heart straight from your chest. Or something like that. If you are in San Francisco, do yourself un gran favor and BUY TICKETS to see OURS at Cafe DuNord on June 6th. And as an added bonus (depending on what you think about the didgeridoo, or “digeridon’t” as many of my friends call it), I will be accompanying them onstage for one song with my aboriginal wind stick. Click here for OURS’ TOUR DATES and see what people really mean when they call something “Rock’s Best Kept Secret.”

That’s a photo of Jimmy performing to a wall of Roshambuddies in our old tasting room. And if you are MySpace saavy, click here to go to their band page. Oh, and here’s one final clip… a personal favorite of mine. (And since I’m supposed to be “selling wine” on this blog, I should say that in terms of spiritual experiences, this next clip pairs particularly well with a glass of “the reverend” Zinfandel). Embrace the experience!