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That's right, the show was so good that I have to use a profane interfix to describe it.
Last night I went out to see Sam Roberts Band at the Tractor Tavern. While I had been looking forward to this show since I first saw the tour dates months ago, I spent most of the day whining about the fact that it didn't start until 9:30. After I'd gotten up at 6:30am and gone to work -- and not one of those have-coffee-go-out-to-lunch-and-leave-early-'cause-it's-Friday kind of days either -- I had to make the totally indirect drive from Capitol Hill to Ballard and search for a rare parking space, all while fighting to stay awake.
And I'm sooooooooooooooo glad that I did. It was one of the best shows I've ever attended. Besides, my day was nothing compared to the band's trip down from British Columbia, which was fraught with vehicle trouble, both with the van and the bus. In the end, they made it to the venue hours before their equipment, which was in a trailer that had lost a wheel, and finally appeared on the back of a flatbed truck around 7:30.
I got to the bar just a few minutes before the opener, Fan Fiction, took the stage. They're a local band, mostly up-tempo alt rock with character, and they fit the Sam Roberts vibe all right. I liked them well enough, but stayed in my chair in the back for their set. I figured I didn't really care if I saw them, as long as I could hear the music. Plus I get tired; it was after 10pm. The front man, bless his heart, made witty remarks and told us the name of every song, despite Seattle audiences being nearly impossible to engage, even when you're the band they paid to see.
To be fair, though, I think this was actually more of a Vancouver audience. In between sets, I chatted with some Sam Roberts fan girls who were pointing out all the Canadians they'd come across in the crowd. I know nothing of Sam himself, or what kind of celebrity he enjoys in the True North, strong and free. I discovered him when George Stroumboulopoulos did an interview on his radio show and played a few tracks from the latest record, Collider. Since I loved every song he previewed, I picked up the album. When I became irretrievably addicted to it, I grabbed another CD, which I adored so much that I got a third, and so on, until Sam Roberts, with or without Band, became one of my favorite artists.
I only know and love him through the music, but in Canada, apparently Sam Roberts is kind of a big deal. I heard that his shows there are arena events with high-priced tickets, which prompted a large contingent of Vancouverites to pay the gas and hotel for the chance to cram into a dinky bar show, and see Sam's dimples first hand -- which you can't see from my phone's crappy camera work, despite me being 10 feet from the stage. This was particularly interesting given the drunk guy outside before the show (so drunk that he pronounced it emmrobbitts) repeatedly announcing to his friends, and everyone else in the Will Call line, that he wasn't going in because "Emmrobbitts is rully good, but not for sebbenteen dollarsss."The gig itself was amazing; they sounded flawless, with such stage presence. I can't imagine not seeing these guys in an intimate setting, and hope I have more chances to go to bar gigs like this one. The crowd full of fans only helped. Toward the beginning of the show, when they kicked off Fixed to Ruin, I immediately began to sing along and dance (like I had no bones), and I really did forget that I was all alone... because I looked around and the entire room was doing the same. I don't know anyone in the States who has even heard of Sam Roberts (except from my constant fan girl yammering), and it was a great feeling to be in a whole room full of people who get it.
We were all thrilled to be there. There was no typical Seattle audience we're-too-cool-to-play-along feeling. When Sam said "Sing it!" we sang it. When he told us to put our hands in the air, everybody's hands went up. During Love at the End of the World and Them Kids, the crowd responded with what can only be described as going apeshit. We clapped to the beat, we danced, we cheered like crazy, and I nearly lost my voice from singing along to every song. Even though they probably played for more than 90 minutes, I wanted them to keep going all night. I didn't want it to end.
But end it did. I got home a little after 1am, and this boring old lady went directly to bed, ears still ringing, stamp on my wrist barely beginning to fade, and head full of Sam Roberts songs.
I couldn't possibly have been happier.
