Ramone sings, plays mandolin and banjo; his partner is guitarst-singer Clauia Tienan. They play the Cantab Lounge Tuesday July 15..
   “It’s kind of an extension of what I’ve been doing,” says Ramone. “It makes sense. I love the instruments and it certainly it feels comfortable. At first we were doing electric and acoustic, but then there were just the two of and decided to go acoustic.” (Uncle Monk has been around since the early’90s; their drummer left after a couple of years. After that, Ramone says they shifted from a jam band to bluegrass.)
     Listen to Uncle Monk’s eponymous debut CD and you’ll find it’s no lark. It’s a tuneful, rustic record – hopeful at time, melancholic at others. “Need a life, need a life,” sings Ramone, at one point, “just like folks that have one.”  At another, “Heaven is a place that we long for/Heaven is a place we antto be.” As to the audience, Ramone says, “Some Ramones fans come and see us and don’t know what to expect. They like it but don’t know quite why.” As to bluegrass fans,”We were wondering about that, but we’ve played many shows now and thy seem to really like it,” says Ramone.  “We take it very seriously. We’re probably more traditional than most bluegrass groups. We’re taking our modern indy ideas and combining them with traditional instruments.” The themes come “from our experience, our emotional feelings.”
       There are no grand dreams. “What we really would like,” says Ramone, “is have the opportunity to play for audiences around the country. We just want people to hear our music. We want people who would like it to have a chance to enjoy." It's Bluegrass night at the Cantab and the doors are at 8:30 p.m. Uncle Monk's on at 10. And it's a voluntary pass the hat affair: $7 recommended.

The last time I saw Tommy Ramone on stage he was at CBGB’s last stand hopping about, singing the Ramones’ “Blitzkrieg Bop” with the Dictators. That was fall 2006. Friday night at Club Passim, the original Ramones drummer (and sometime manager and producer) didn’t refer to his old band once – in song or chat. The slight man with a gray ponytail played dobro and sang in a plain-spoken voice, accompanied by acoustic guitarist-singer Claudia Tienen. It was an evening of straight-on, no-frills bluegrass. The link to punk?” 

What follows is a review I wrote for the Phoenix of Uncle Monk last year at Club Passim:

 "It’s home-brewed stuff,” Ramone explained pre-set. (Songs are mostly three minutes or less, too.) Uncle Monk started as a jam band trio, but has been a bluegrass duo for two years, with an eponymous CD on the racks.
    Ramone, who sang most leads, and Tienan hovered around one mike, her voice coming through faintly during the 65-minute set. There was a down-home/no-stars-necessary feel to it, typical to the club. Musically, there was a sense of sadness and melancholy, little humor. Ramone sang “Need a Life” about “people who never had a chance, sinking down, sinking down” – his desperate plea was in the title. “Walls of Time” was about “coming for you when I die.” “Heaven,” a calypso tune, was “a place that we long for/Heaven is a place we want to be.” And maybe that’s because there are harsh bosses like “Mr. Endicott” riding your tail. In “Home Sweet Reality,” Ramone sang, “Down and out and everyone knows/Home sweet reality/Leave me alone.” And in “Mean To Me,” he kept asking the question: “Why are you mean to me, why so mean to me?”
     Uncle Monk is not about lickety-split runs. They move at a measured, mid-tempo pace. No majestic highs, no wrenching lows. It’s contemplative, rustic, tuneful music that’s modest by design and in execution. If you didn’t know, you’d never guessed this guy beat the skins for “Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue,” “We’re a Happy Family” and “Pinhead.” Times change.

738 Massachusetts Ave., Cambridge, 617-354-2685 www.cantablounge.com