Some people discover music later in life and focus tightly on a single thing — blues guitar, for instance — or maybe they can only play the intro to “Honky Tonk Woman.” Others are satisfied learning “Tiny Dancer” on a cheap electric piano and declaring their lives complete. More power to them. Then there are the mentally irregular among us who devour music theory, listen obsessively across genres, spend hours linking 1930s jazz to 1980s electronica, and even learn to build guitars — all while neglecting the basic practice that would make them playable. If that’s you, welcome. We have T-shirts.
Neither extreme describes Linda Null. She picked up the guitar late and mastered it quickly. She plays with smooth, natural ease and sings like a bird. Those of us whose voices go flat at every chord change might feel a little envious at first.
But Linda is impossible to dislike. Listeners with more typical musical habits will appreciate her intelligent, tasteful approach to jazz, folk, and singer-songwriter pop, and at times she can be genuinely astonishing.
If you see her with her spouse and the other half of Hopeless Semantics, Mike Sussler, the experience deepens — so let’s talk about Mike before returning to the duo as an entity.
Mike plays six- and twelve-string guitar like the consummate professional he is. His repertoire and technical mastery span a vast swath of American music; he performs with the confidence of someone who’s been onstage for years, and he wears a cowboy hat that manages to be effortlessly classy.
But the headline isn’t the hat — it’s the mandolin. Mike plays the mandolin so well that he earned the nickname “Mandolin Mike” in Nashville. Pause and let that sink in: a Nashville nickname for mandolin mastery.
To any wiseass who asks how many mandolin players I’ve seen live, the answer is — that’s how many. Mandolin Mike, in Nashville.
That’s Linda and Mike the people. Now, Hopeless Semantics the musical act.
They’ve been playing the local circuit frequently; I caught their set at the Garryowen Pub on a recent Friday night. Mike arrived with three guitars and two mandolins; Linda had a keyboard and a guitar worth more than my truck. They weren’t there to fool around.
Their set was varied and intricate, moving through old country, ’90s pop and alternative, and plenty of ’70s singer-songwriter material. Vocals alternate between them: Linda’s is extraordinary, with a range few should possess. She can belt with a bluesy growl or ease into a Streisand-like trill. She’s one of those singers I could happily listen to unaccompanied and still be satisfied.
Accompanied, she’s matched by Mandolin Mike. Accompanying a great singer is an art, and Mike excels at building the musical house around Linda’s voice and rhythm. When he steps up to sing Dylan or — bless his Stetsoned soul — a Harry Chapin tune, Linda supports him on keys or guitar, adding fullness to his undeniable virtuosity. Individually, they’re impressive; together, they’re more than the sum of their parts.
They’re also a lot of fun to watch. Gettysburg’s live-music scene is rich with talent, and catching a Hopeless Semantics set is a little thrill that can brighten your day. Knowing you’ll see Mike and Linda later in the week makes whatever small annoyances you’re facing feel less daunting.
That’s what music does for us. We’re fortunate to have artists like them nearby. Catch Hopeless Semantics when you can, try to stump Mike with an obscure ’70s folk band, toss a request to Linda and watch her smile as she calls up the chords, or enjoy her eye-roll when Mike is being a knucklehead before launching into “Friend of the Devil.” You’ll likely see other local musicians in the crowd, just as you do at shows by Neil and Shannon, Peter Wile, or Matt Morriss.
The community is a gift, showcased in events like the recent Guernsey Beat Rocks. Hopeless Semantics is another act you can catch regularly around town, and you’d be doing yourself a disservice not to.
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Tom Dudra is a local music nerd and civil war bore. He writes about local music, as well as essays and fiction about the civil war era. He is often found on the battlefield with Grant, his vicious basset war hound.
Hi, Tom… I love the way you write! Thank you for your music reviews. Please keep them coming.