Fond Farewell to Miché Fambro

Side Street Sounds

• By STEVE WEST–

My first recollection of seeing Miché Fambro was when I was in high school in the 1980s. I had heard of the new wave band, Miché and the Anglos, but I had no idea he was that guy. He was just a guy that worked at Buzzo Music in Geneseo. 

It would be another 25 years or so before I can really say I met him. I was hosting an open mic at Muddy Waters in Geneseo when he came in one night. He said his wife and daughter were watching “Dancing with The Stars, or The Bachelor, or some such thing” on TV, and he just had to get out of the house. He took out this guitar that had multiple jacks and areas taped off— which I would soon learn were for picking up his unique finger percussion on the body of the guitar.  Then, he started to play his first song. His voice was sweet and rich. The speed with which the notes flew from his guitar were something you’d expect to hear from a heavy metal shredder, not an acoustic player. The normally buzzing crowd at Muddy Waters fell silent as Miché breezed through a couple of original tunes and a couple of standards. I became a fan that night.

About a year after that first encounter, I got a message from Miché asking if I’d appear with my band, The Tabletop Three, on an internet show that he was doing. I was honored to say yes. He came to my house and interviewed me, then he filmed the band rehearsing in my living room. 

The highlight of the evening was having Miché join us for an impromptu version of “Ain’t No Sunshine.” Listen at: youtube.com/watch?v=mJYU0Stvhnc&feature=youtu.be.

To say that I knew Miché well is probably an overstatement. Mick, as he was known to his friends, posted dozens of videos of his performances, lessons, and thoughts on being a musician on his social media pages. Even if you never met him in person, his gentle demeanor and easy style in front of the camera made you feel as if you had known him forever. Even though he performed all over the world, over the years, he was gracious enough to fill in for me occasionally when I couldn’t make a local gig, and he played in a couple of charity shows that I produced. 

February 2020, Mick posted to his Facebook page that he had been diagnosed with liver cancer. In his typical style, he was optimistic about his treatment plan and rarely mentioned it again.  In fact, if you missed that post, you might not have known he had anything wrong at all. He continued to post music videos and lessons all summer and into the holiday season. On December 9, 2020 he posted that his doctors had found a new cancer, and the diagnosis was terminal. On December 18, his wife, Wendy, posted the heartbreaking news that Miché had passed.

In addition to his wife, he is survived by his daughters, Michael and Naomi, and his grandchildren, Leona and Marqui. He is also survived by his mother, Vivian McCord; siblings, Pat Fambro, Greg James and Angie McCord; many other cherished extended family members; his puppet, Newton, and his beloved guitar(s.) 

Read the full obituary here.

Although I was always completely impressed with his musicianship, my most enduring memory of Miché will be his gentle spirit and the grace with which he carried himself on stage and in personal moments with friends and family. His passing is a tremendous loss to the music community.