I thought I knew Andrea Brown pretty well back in the days; she the co-founder, along with husband, Bob “Newscaster” Swenson, of Dagmar (her middle name) and the Seductones, a hot, relatively new, roots band making some waves in the mid-Atlantic region. It was the end of the decade of the heady, tumultuous 60s and we were in the thick of it as students at Towson State College. I couldn’t say she was then as radically political as I, who was for a spell the “president” of  the local chapter of S.D.S. (Students for a Democratic Society), but she was nonetheless an ardent supporter of the anti-war movement, cutting a familiar figure on campus at all the frequent rallies, demonstrations, and public forums. I can picture her now with her long, dark, straight hair, cool Roger McGwinn shades, and Indian sandals. And her trusty acoustic guitar, which she would play at the slightest provocation, was never far from her side. I thought of her as a budding Joan Baez, Judy Collins, or Joni Mitchell, although I later discovered she disdained such comparisons, except that she also wanted to be remembered as a singer-songwriter. But there was no denying her talent. Not only was she quite a chanteuse and underrated player but also an artist, poet, and writer, frequently contributing examples of these avocations to this institution of higher learning’s own literary magazine, the Talisman.

Andrea Dagmar Brown was born in Washington, D.C., and spent much of her formative years in the near suburbs of Silver Spring and Bethesda/Chevy Chase. “But since my parents were native New Yorkers, I also felt my second home was the Glen Oaks neighborhood of Brooklyn,” she said, proud of this cosmopolitan connection. As a child, she had a “severe crush” on Elvis Presley, as well as infatuations with artists as diverse as Marty Robbins, Sarah Vaughan, and Harry Belafonte. As far as her first “indoctrination” to the blues, she intimates that it might have occurred subliminally. “During my many excursions to New York, my father would whistle these blues songs whose origins escape me. I guess they were ingrained at a young age,” she added.

But she likens her early affinity for rock and roll to swimming against the musical current of her family’s background. Her maternal grandfather, Julian Lapinski, a Polish immigrant, set up shop in New York and despite his always humble circumstances, earned a reputation for crafting top-notch violins. His daughter and Andrea’s mother was classically trained in the piano and as an opera singer. In the midst of this constant barrage of highbrow music, Andrea always felt herself the “black sheep,” furtively seeking an opportunity to listen to her beloved, but tacitly banned, music.

Ironically, it was Andrea who took up the violin in high school, performing not only in Bethesda Chevy Chase’s ensemble but also in a string quartet and Montgomery County’s Youth Orchestra, quite a prestigious accomplishment. “It was the only way to avoid taking gym class,” she answered matter-of-factly. But she soon grew “bored” of this instrument and applied herself to learning classical guitar with which she practiced music   transposed from that intended exclusively for violin. “For my senior class project, I selected the three-movement, Vivaldi [violin] Concerto in D. There I was all alone onstage with my guitar being backed by my fellow classical musicians,” she added.

As far as singing and composing, she developed those abilities early on. “I guess one of my fondest recollections of childhood is following my mother around while she was vacuuming, making up lyrics to the constant drone of the machine. It all seemed to come so naturally to me,” she said.

Andrea actually contemplated majoring in music before entering college but since she was equally adept at sketching, chose art instead and later switched to English, also an easy segue having flirted with poetry throughout her teenage years.

She graduated from Towson with a diploma in English but soon pursued a Master of Arts degree at Antioch College in Ohio which, through no fault of her own, didn’t pan out. Along the way, Andre also took courses in photography at the University of Vermont.  She eventually acquired her teaching certificate at American University in Washington. “I figured that since I didn’t like technical writing, teaching was the only viable option,” she said.  Her teaching career, which included stints at Blair, Northwood, and Bethesda Chevy Chase high schools, lasted only seven years. Always the free thinker, her ideas never seemed to mesh with those imposed upon her by her supervisors in administration.

However, her musical life was slowly evolving. She landed a gig at Mr. Henry’s on Capitol Hill. “I vividly remember grading papers between sets. Sooner or later something had to give,” said Andrea. Also during this time frame she opened in clubs for quite a few regional entertainers, including Catfish Hodge, Billy Price & Keystone Rhythm, and the Country Gentlemen. In addition, she accepted for promotion’s sake a lot of live broadcast work, especially with Georgetown University’s radio station. One of the more memorable episodes of this period was an invitation to play abroad for six weeks at the behest of the U.S. Navy, a tour which included stretches entertaining sailors in Rota, Spain, and Kenitra, Morocco. “Here I was the designated folk singer who began the show. I was followed by lounge act and then a rock band accompanied by two go-go dancers. In fact, sometimes I had to fill in for the latter,” she added with a laugh. But it was a life-altering experience replete with many adventures and occasional mishaps (including being stranded in Germany, a story in itself) in which she not only gained practical wisdom but also matured as a musician.

But, according to Andrea, something still was lacking. “Onstage, I seemed confined, limited. I tried to hit the thumb a little harder on the strings to produce and emphasize a bass line, all the while finger picking. I guess what I truly desired was to be a band. But it was more than that. I could never discover my real voice. There just wasn’t any conviction behind it,” she said, recalling the frustration which eventually prompted her to eschew public performing for a span of time. Nevertheless, before finally bidding adieu to teaching late in this decade, she released her first LP under the sponsorship of local merchants and the auspices of N.E.W. (Northwood Educational Workshop), an alternative high school program in Silver Spring, MD, wherein she taught English. A collection of original compositions in a folk groove, as well as interpretations of tunes by Willie Nelson, Janis Joplin, and Dolly Parton, this mainly solo acoustic album seems to reinforce this notion of an artist in flux, sampling various stylistic approaches in an attempt to define herself. Despite the hearty endorsement of her students, Andrea personally does not hold this undertaking in high regard; but in a positive vein, at least it accorded her valuable experience in the recording studio. It was a start.

In the very early 80s, after this hiatus from music, Andrea, with renewed vigor, sought any and all opportunities to “sit in” as vocalist for bands, a quest that ultimately led her to the Childe Harold bar on Connecticut Ave run by the affable but “mildly insane” Bill Heard, where upstairs on Monday nights, blues jams by then had achieved a legendary status. On any particular night, anyone could show up including local heroes like Bob Margolin or Root Boy Slim and if the Smithsonian happened to present a Folklife Festival on the nearby Mall, national acts like Sunnyland Slim (Albert Luandrew) and Louisiana Red (Iverson Minter) were likely to put in an appearance as well. The house band during that era was normally composed of Steve Kraemer on piano, Jeff Lodsun on drums, Bryan Smith on bass, Phil Wiggins (later of Cephas & Wiggins fame) or Larry Wise on harmonica, and Bob “Newscaster” Swenson on lead guitar, the latter who would become Andrea’s partner and soul mate soon thereafter. “I have to admit that I was intrigued by this pony-tailed, bespectacled bluesman, who seemed rather to resemble a librarian. He granted my request to sing ‘Walkin’ the Dog,’ although he played it in the wrong key,” said Andrea. Nevertheless, it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.



Undoubtedly with Bob’s encouragement and input, Andrea formed her first group, the Kokomo Mojos, “which with its selections, leaned toward blues.” But Andrea was quick to recognize why this experiment was doomed to failure after only one year of existence. “We tried to cobble together material which included original compositions of mine, rather obscure gems, and blues tunes. We were just too scattered and idiosyncratic to succeed,” said Andrea. But they did manage to have at least one memorable night at the celebrated, but now sadly defunct, Psychedelly in Wheaton, MD, practically the second home of Mark Wenner and the Nighthawks during that time when such outlets for live music proliferated. (Photo: Dagmar and Bob)



After the demise of the short-lived Kokomo Mojos, Andrea decided to take matters into her own hands and defy this “male dominated” network of bands by founding the first incarnation of Dagmar and the Seductones, an all female group, which later, because of the high attrition rate, included Bob on lead guitar, who must have felt like a rooster in a hen house. “I picked up an Olympic Special Epiphone, a girl-sized guitar, and I played rhythm. For a while we were ‘chick shtick,’ a novelty item, but it didn’t take long for problems to surface,” said Andrea.

Such “troubles” included a lot of squabbling and infighting between the women, resulting in a host of personnel changes. In fact, it seemed like a revolving door. And it wasn’t easy finding competent side persons of the distaff persuasion to replace them. And Andrea, perhaps still a novice at leading such a unique contingent, probably allowed her supporting cast too much leeway in dictating what tunes to play. “We were all over the musical map, really unfocused,” she said, disgustedly.

In fact, how the group managed to survive for nearly two and a half years was a tribute to both Andrea’s tenacity and eternal optimism.  And despite a spate of great venues which included the Gentry on Capitol Hill, Desperado’s in Georgetown, the aforementioned Psychedelly, and Columbia Station in Adams Morgan, Andrea at the end was completely burned out, spent. “It was such a discouraging, disheartening ordeal, that I, again, walked away from it. Call it my second hiatus,” she added, reflecting upon this “incredibly bad idea.”

And it would be a long absence, carrying well into the late 90s, before Andrea again felt sufficiently inspired to test the musical waters. As back in the time of her U.S. Navy tour, Andrea again auditioned and won a spot in C&W band, Juliet at the Rodeo, whose regular haunt was the Cowboy Café in Northern Virginia. “Although they played country classics, one of the requirements was that the members pen fresh songs weekly, which was right up my alley as singer-songwriter,” said Andrea, who played both guitar and violin (as fiddle) in this outfit. In retrospect, Andrea can’t comprehend how she was able to remain in this aggregate for two years, being so stifled by the “strict regimentation” of the play list which was well rehearsed in advance and made no allowances for any creative “deviation.” But even that oppressive factor wasn’t the worst of it. “For these guys - assorted government workers, professionals, and the like - this band was nothing more than just a hobby, a diversion; whereas I’ve always been a serious musician and instead of passionately, I was singing by wrote. My heart just wasn’t in it. I still couldn’t find my true voice,” she added dejectedly.

But it wasn’t a total loss, as Andrea appears on several of their recordings.

By 2001, Andrea had had enough bad experiences to know what she didn’t want and had more than just an inkling about what kind of band would satisfy her almost spiritual need for musical expression. And it all began as kind of an epiphany. Bob’s father introduced her to Patsy Cline number and she describes her reaction almost as if it were recovered memory, for indeed it was. “When I heard her voice, I recalled a little radio station in Vermont which played such vintage country and blues - nothing moves me quite like that. It was as if a light switch were turned on. I finally had the answer.” And with Bob as musical director, the second incarnation of Dagmar and the Seductones was born. But it gets better. Not only does Andrea at last feel fulfilled but also in the process she has actually become new and improved onstage. Perhaps owing to this sudden intuition, she also has finally conquered her stage fright, formerly almost a disability, which has dogged her, hindering her development throughout her career. Whatever it is, she now sings with a new found confidence, if not a swagger.

The next step was to surround her self with a stellar cast of characters (more about them later). “The people I have behind me now are so proficient that I pale by comparison,” said Andrea. But anyone who has ever heard her, including myself, will agree that she has always been too modest when appraising her technical skills with the guitar. But she may have a point when she asserts that playing “distracts” her too much to “concentrate upon singing.” Nonetheless, this formula for success, upon which they have agreed, appears to be working in this latest reconfiguration of Dagmar and the Seductones. Larry Benicewicz