I've always been a bit of a loner. I tend to have a small group of close friends, but the people in my life never have the staying power or emotional connection that music does for me. Human beings come and go, but the music? That's forever.
So while the songs are like my friends, sometimes there's an artist or a band that I really love, with whom I cultivate a special relationship; almost like a long-distance crush. In those cases, finally getting to see them live is like finally getting the object of my affection into bed. It may be a crass comparison, but it's true. Like sex, sometimes the live show is just good enough, once in a while it's awful and destroys my interest, and occasionally, it puts me over the edge and I truly fall in love.
In the past week I was lucky enough to finally see two bands that I've adored from afar for quite some time.
Last night I saw First Aid Kit, a Swedish combo whose perpetually sold-out shows I had failed to get a ticket for twice previously. Needless to say, I was thrilled to finally get into their performance at the Neptune. And I enjoyed it. It was good, even had moments of greatness, like their cover of one of my all-time favourite Simon & Garfunkel tunes, but it didn't leave me wanting more. In the end, I was happy and satisfied, but... well... let's just go back to being friends.
Frightened Rabbit was another story entirely. I loved every second of their show on Monday, and wished they could've gone on playing all night. I walked out of The Triple Door energized, and more in love with those Scottish boys than ever. I'm listening to their records even more often now, and I've already planned a trip out of my way to see them again in Glasgow this winter. I'm smitten. I can't get enough.
Sure, the analogy may seem a bit of a stretch, but I can name men in my dating life who parallel both of these situations, as well as the more disappointing live shows I've attended. And no matter the outcome, spending a night with your crush (musical or otherwise) is always worth it. You never know, it could be that oh-so-rare one who captures your heart forever.
21 October 2012
07 July 2012
Tallinn
It's shortly after 5pm on my last day in Europe, and all I want is a nap. I guess it's fitting that the sun has disappeared behind some rather dark clouds just at the time that I've run out of energy.
I'm currently in Tallinn, which is actually quite a lovely place. Estonia's history is fraught with occupations and revolutions to regain their independence, which may be one of the factors in the very multicultural nature of this city. You can clearly see the influence from all their neighbors, but it's still got its own particular charm, unlike anything I've seen in any other country.
The main thing I've noticed is how quiet the city is. There's a bit of traffic noise, and you hear the occasional music or conversation, but it's mostly just silent. I read that the Estonian philosophy is something like, if you don't have some brilliant, well thought-out thing to say, just keep quiet, and it seems most people here do just that.
I arrived yesterday without much of an agenda, and my stroll out of the hotel led me directly to the mall. I didn't intend to go there, I just followed the Food Store sign, hoping to get some provisions for my stay, and bam! Mall. It was exactly like every other mall I've ever seen, which is to say, horrible and full of teenagers.
Luckily today, after sleeping off a bit too much of the drink from last night, I pointed myself toward Old Town and found a cute -- albeit very touristy -- little section of the city protected by the castle-like city walls. I also wandered through a couple of parks, one of which was hosting the Flower Festival, and made it to a late lunch without passing out from sunstroke.
Did I mention it's been very sunny and hot my whole time here? Well, it has. I love it, but walking miles in it, with little to no shade, isn't doing me any favors.
After a quick air conditioning break, I did some more rambling around town, but mostly came across tall buildings and more shopping centers. I also got shouted at, in what I presume was Estonian, by an old lady on the street for no apparent reason... proving that crazy is universal.
At this point, I'm taking another break for a long drink (cranberry taste) and will see if I can muster any energy later. The dark skies (despite sundown still being hours away) and my need to go to the airport in roughly 12 hours, probably mean that I won't go far. Even if I don't, the long trip has been worth it, and I'll be sad to leave Estonia tomorrow.
I'm currently in Tallinn, which is actually quite a lovely place. Estonia's history is fraught with occupations and revolutions to regain their independence, which may be one of the factors in the very multicultural nature of this city. You can clearly see the influence from all their neighbors, but it's still got its own particular charm, unlike anything I've seen in any other country.
The main thing I've noticed is how quiet the city is. There's a bit of traffic noise, and you hear the occasional music or conversation, but it's mostly just silent. I read that the Estonian philosophy is something like, if you don't have some brilliant, well thought-out thing to say, just keep quiet, and it seems most people here do just that.
I arrived yesterday without much of an agenda, and my stroll out of the hotel led me directly to the mall. I didn't intend to go there, I just followed the Food Store sign, hoping to get some provisions for my stay, and bam! Mall. It was exactly like every other mall I've ever seen, which is to say, horrible and full of teenagers.
Luckily today, after sleeping off a bit too much of the drink from last night, I pointed myself toward Old Town and found a cute -- albeit very touristy -- little section of the city protected by the castle-like city walls. I also wandered through a couple of parks, one of which was hosting the Flower Festival, and made it to a late lunch without passing out from sunstroke.
Did I mention it's been very sunny and hot my whole time here? Well, it has. I love it, but walking miles in it, with little to no shade, isn't doing me any favors.
After a quick air conditioning break, I did some more rambling around town, but mostly came across tall buildings and more shopping centers. I also got shouted at, in what I presume was Estonian, by an old lady on the street for no apparent reason... proving that crazy is universal.
At this point, I'm taking another break for a long drink (cranberry taste) and will see if I can muster any energy later. The dark skies (despite sundown still being hours away) and my need to go to the airport in roughly 12 hours, probably mean that I won't go far. Even if I don't, the long trip has been worth it, and I'll be sad to leave Estonia tomorrow.
06 July 2012
On a Boat
Today, I think I had the longest 2.5 hour trip of my life.
Given that it's only a 2 1/2 hour ferry journey from Helsinki to Tallinn, I decided to boat across the sea, rather than catch a plane. I figured a ferry is a nice way to travel, quietly drifting along, gazing out the window at the water....
Totally not what I got today.
I boarded with the throngs of foot passengers, and managed to make my way up past the cabins (which seem overkill for less than a 3 hour tour... a 3 hour tour!), to the first deck of general seating, which could either be had in the dance club or the casino/bar. I preferred neither, nor did I want to sit outdoors for the whole trip, so I chose the deck with 2 small restaurants. Since most of the tables were reserved for diners, I took up residence at one of the unreserved spaces, and started reading the newspaper.
Not until the person dressed as a giant sailor cat -- evidently named Viki Viking -- appeared, did I notice that the seats around me were filling up with families with many small children. I frantically scanned the room for an open unreserved table elsewhere, but it was no use. I was stuck with them. For two and a half looooooong hours.
I spent the time with headphones on, music turned up, making use of the free wifi and/or reading, trying to pretend they weren't there. But even with all that, it was amazing that I made it off that boat without killing one of the little buggers.
While screaming children are equally annoying in any tongue, it's amazing how freeing it can be to spend time in countries where you don't speak the language. I've talked about this before, but it's worth mentioning again. At first your brain uses extra energy searching every word around you for one you recognize, but soon, it just gives up. And then you realize how much mental energy you waste on the bullshit of strangers in a given day. At least I do. So it's really quite calming for the mind to just completely tune it out.
Of course, the downside is that then I also fail to hear when people are speaking English, either directly to me, or on things like ferry announcements, and end up lost or confused.
Even so... it's worth it.
Given that it's only a 2 1/2 hour ferry journey from Helsinki to Tallinn, I decided to boat across the sea, rather than catch a plane. I figured a ferry is a nice way to travel, quietly drifting along, gazing out the window at the water....
Totally not what I got today.
I boarded with the throngs of foot passengers, and managed to make my way up past the cabins (which seem overkill for less than a 3 hour tour... a 3 hour tour!), to the first deck of general seating, which could either be had in the dance club or the casino/bar. I preferred neither, nor did I want to sit outdoors for the whole trip, so I chose the deck with 2 small restaurants. Since most of the tables were reserved for diners, I took up residence at one of the unreserved spaces, and started reading the newspaper.
Not until the person dressed as a giant sailor cat -- evidently named Viki Viking -- appeared, did I notice that the seats around me were filling up with families with many small children. I frantically scanned the room for an open unreserved table elsewhere, but it was no use. I was stuck with them. For two and a half looooooong hours.
I spent the time with headphones on, music turned up, making use of the free wifi and/or reading, trying to pretend they weren't there. But even with all that, it was amazing that I made it off that boat without killing one of the little buggers.
While screaming children are equally annoying in any tongue, it's amazing how freeing it can be to spend time in countries where you don't speak the language. I've talked about this before, but it's worth mentioning again. At first your brain uses extra energy searching every word around you for one you recognize, but soon, it just gives up. And then you realize how much mental energy you waste on the bullshit of strangers in a given day. At least I do. So it's really quite calming for the mind to just completely tune it out.
Of course, the downside is that then I also fail to hear when people are speaking English, either directly to me, or on things like ferry announcements, and end up lost or confused.
Even so... it's worth it.
05 July 2012
Helsinki
It took me less than 24 hours to run out of interest in Helsinki. I do love the beer here, though. I've had many a pint of a local dark lager called Karjala. Absolutely fantastic. It's going to be depressing when I get home and can't drink it anymore.
It's not that Helsinki isn't an interesting place, it's just that there's not a lot of tourist-type stuff to see. It might not be a bad place to live, but it's not one to photograph. While the city is old and surrounded by water, the best word to describe it is functional. It doesn't have the beautiful ornate buildings of much of Europe, and the harbor is full of ferries, sightseeing boats, and little fishing dinghies. Not many nice views. It must be the Baltic influence.
Similar to other small European cities, Helsinki is very walkable, and mostly puts your life in your own hands with its traffic control. Bike lanes aren't part of the road, but separate paths next to, or weaving across, the sidewalk. If you walk in the cycle path without paying attention, someone on a bike will hit you... or narrowly miss you, as in my case. There are crossing lights on major street corners, but there are also many intersections where pedestrians, cars, and trams all criss-cross each other without any signals whatsoever. As an American used to seeing a warning label on absolutely everything, I appreciate this; if you're dumb enough to step in front of a tram, your death or dismemberment is your own damn fault.
Anyway. Yesterday when I arrived, I spent a little while wandering the shopping area near my hotel, then grabbed dinner and sat in one of the city's many patio bars, soaking up the sun that lasted well past 10pm.
Due to all that beer and draining sunshine, I slept much later than planned this morning, and didn't head out until around noon. After visiting the market at the harbor, strolling through Esplanade Park, and doing a bit of downtown shopping, I was at a loss for what else to do. My guide book was no help, so I randomly turned the opposite direction from where I'd been so far, and found myself walking through a lovely park along a lake. With temperatures in the high 70s and no shade, though, I didn't spend long exploring beyond the park. After some more shopping and a small dinner, I've given up on the city. Too hot, not enough to do. Nothing left now but a couple of pints and a good night's sleep.
Tomorrow I'm off to Tallinn, Estonia, my last stop on this trip. I can't believe how fast it has gone by.
It's not that Helsinki isn't an interesting place, it's just that there's not a lot of tourist-type stuff to see. It might not be a bad place to live, but it's not one to photograph. While the city is old and surrounded by water, the best word to describe it is functional. It doesn't have the beautiful ornate buildings of much of Europe, and the harbor is full of ferries, sightseeing boats, and little fishing dinghies. Not many nice views. It must be the Baltic influence.
Similar to other small European cities, Helsinki is very walkable, and mostly puts your life in your own hands with its traffic control. Bike lanes aren't part of the road, but separate paths next to, or weaving across, the sidewalk. If you walk in the cycle path without paying attention, someone on a bike will hit you... or narrowly miss you, as in my case. There are crossing lights on major street corners, but there are also many intersections where pedestrians, cars, and trams all criss-cross each other without any signals whatsoever. As an American used to seeing a warning label on absolutely everything, I appreciate this; if you're dumb enough to step in front of a tram, your death or dismemberment is your own damn fault.
Anyway. Yesterday when I arrived, I spent a little while wandering the shopping area near my hotel, then grabbed dinner and sat in one of the city's many patio bars, soaking up the sun that lasted well past 10pm.
Due to all that beer and draining sunshine, I slept much later than planned this morning, and didn't head out until around noon. After visiting the market at the harbor, strolling through Esplanade Park, and doing a bit of downtown shopping, I was at a loss for what else to do. My guide book was no help, so I randomly turned the opposite direction from where I'd been so far, and found myself walking through a lovely park along a lake. With temperatures in the high 70s and no shade, though, I didn't spend long exploring beyond the park. After some more shopping and a small dinner, I've given up on the city. Too hot, not enough to do. Nothing left now but a couple of pints and a good night's sleep.
Tomorrow I'm off to Tallinn, Estonia, my last stop on this trip. I can't believe how fast it has gone by.
03 July 2012
Stockholm
It's my last evening in Stockholm, in Sweden even, and I'm not sure what to do with it. Sitting in a bar overlooking the city seems a good start, though.
I arrived 2 days ago, sleep deprived, jet lagged, and utterly confused by everything. I never fully remember my first day on a new continent, and what I do recall tends to be surreal. As such, I didn't try to accomplish much; I did a bit of wandering, watched Spain win the Euro final with a couple of Norrlands Guld beers, and crashed for 12 hours.
I awoke feeling much better yesterday and headed off to visit Old Town (Gamla Stan), which is a short walk from my hotel. I made it to the right part of town, but managed to constantly turn the wrong direction and see things other than what I planned. I also unintentionally visited some other areas of town in the course of being lost. Still, it was beautiful, and I got a lot of great photos in and around the Opera House, City Hall, various churches, and random spots along all the water.
As a consultant at work told me, "Sweden has lots of beautiful old architecture, because -- ya know -- they didn't get bombed."
Maybe a bit irreverent, but true enough.
Today I set out again to see the Royal Palace, and this time I made it. Strangely enough, once I knew where I was, I no longer cared if I was in the "right" place. I ambled around the royal buildings, as well as the Cathedral of Stockholm and the Nobel Museum. The Swedish Navy band was performing, and in addition to the guards on duty, there were a large number of young, blond, fresh-faced servicemen marching around. They were adorable, but man, they made me feel old.
I always feel bad for the guards on duty at any royal residence. I'm sure it's supposed to be an honor, but how hard must it be to take your job seriously while posing for tourists' photos all day?
Other than Instagramming loads of old buildings, my time here has been spent shopping in the city, eating a lot of unspectacular food, and drinking beer. Seems tonight will be comprised of more of the same, then tomorrow I catch an afternoon flight to Helsinki.
As uneventful as my time in Stockholm has been, I still love Sweden, and will probably be back yet again. Something about it just feels comfortable. Yes, I'm the arrogant American, traveling the world, expecting everyone to speak English. But so far, they have. They either begin speaking English the moment they see me, or seem totally unsurprised that I'm American. In Sweden, unlike anywhere else, everyone seems totally shocked, and occasionally disappointed, to find that I'm not a local.
Shrug. I guess it's just a Viking thing.
I arrived 2 days ago, sleep deprived, jet lagged, and utterly confused by everything. I never fully remember my first day on a new continent, and what I do recall tends to be surreal. As such, I didn't try to accomplish much; I did a bit of wandering, watched Spain win the Euro final with a couple of Norrlands Guld beers, and crashed for 12 hours.
I awoke feeling much better yesterday and headed off to visit Old Town (Gamla Stan), which is a short walk from my hotel. I made it to the right part of town, but managed to constantly turn the wrong direction and see things other than what I planned. I also unintentionally visited some other areas of town in the course of being lost. Still, it was beautiful, and I got a lot of great photos in and around the Opera House, City Hall, various churches, and random spots along all the water.
As a consultant at work told me, "Sweden has lots of beautiful old architecture, because -- ya know -- they didn't get bombed."
Maybe a bit irreverent, but true enough.
I always feel bad for the guards on duty at any royal residence. I'm sure it's supposed to be an honor, but how hard must it be to take your job seriously while posing for tourists' photos all day?
Other than Instagramming loads of old buildings, my time here has been spent shopping in the city, eating a lot of unspectacular food, and drinking beer. Seems tonight will be comprised of more of the same, then tomorrow I catch an afternoon flight to Helsinki.
As uneventful as my time in Stockholm has been, I still love Sweden, and will probably be back yet again. Something about it just feels comfortable. Yes, I'm the arrogant American, traveling the world, expecting everyone to speak English. But so far, they have. They either begin speaking English the moment they see me, or seem totally unsurprised that I'm American. In Sweden, unlike anywhere else, everyone seems totally shocked, and occasionally disappointed, to find that I'm not a local.
Shrug. I guess it's just a Viking thing.
22 April 2012
The District
I've been to Washington, DC, four times now. And so far, the fourth time is the best. It might be the one that changes my attitude about this city.
My first visit was part of a dance trip at the end of the 80s, when we came to perform in several places, including the national Fourth of July parade. It was hot and humid, and I saw a purse-snatcher use a big butcher knife to slice a handbag strap and run with it, in broad daylight. It didn't leave me with the best impression. The next two trips were less eventful; they just led to a feeling that DC is boring, touristy, and awful to drive in, and left me confused on what to call the place.*
On this trip, it's still touristy and awful to drive in, but hanging with locals has ensured that DC is definitely not boring. They showed me more of the urban neighborhood view of the place, which I dug. I arrived yesterday afternoon, but didn't make it into the city until early evening, due to the aforementioned shit driving conditions. Aris did his damnedest to get Twitter folks out to welcome me, but it wasn't all that successful. The only one awesome enough to show was Ruben, who we met at Local 16, after I walked many blocks in a torrential downpour. Despite having an umbrella, I still hadn't quite dried out 2 beers later when we walked down the road for Ethiopian food at Dukem.
I had never eaten Ethiopian before, but I'm an instant fan. Apparently it's big here, and do you want to get some Ethiopian food is essentially code for ya wanna go eat a big pile of meat? Yes. Yes, sir, I do.
After a couple more drinks at the famous gay hangout Nellie's Sports Bar, poor Aris ran out of steam and went home. Bless his heart, he fought through a terrible cold to go out and entertain me. Luckily Ruben was all too happy to take over guiding my booze tour, with one last stop at Mad Hatter.
Mad Hatter is a total meat market for Bros and Woo Girls, very much the Jersey Shore of DC. The sociologist in me was fascinated; my inner party girl was loving it. Ruben's only advice was pretend you're 22 again. Done. We drank, we danced, we set out to accomplish the random DFMO (Dance Floor Make Out), but ended up just hanging with each other the whole night instead. I'm sure it would have been possible, the moment Ruben took 2 steps away to grab us drinks, a dude hit on me. Ruben had talked to a group of ridic bachelorette party girls earlier, and when he left to walk me back to my hotel, they all turned and glared at me. The whole experience was fantastic. Absolutely fantastic.
But all the fun means that now I'm sleep deprived for my rainy DC Sunday, and I may not be able to really make the most of it. I always blow it out on the first night of trips like this and spend the rest suffering. Maybe someday I'll learn...
Nah.
*Aris eventually cleared this up for me, after getting very frustrated with my inability to call DC the right name on Twitter.
My first visit was part of a dance trip at the end of the 80s, when we came to perform in several places, including the national Fourth of July parade. It was hot and humid, and I saw a purse-snatcher use a big butcher knife to slice a handbag strap and run with it, in broad daylight. It didn't leave me with the best impression. The next two trips were less eventful; they just led to a feeling that DC is boring, touristy, and awful to drive in, and left me confused on what to call the place.*
On this trip, it's still touristy and awful to drive in, but hanging with locals has ensured that DC is definitely not boring. They showed me more of the urban neighborhood view of the place, which I dug. I arrived yesterday afternoon, but didn't make it into the city until early evening, due to the aforementioned shit driving conditions. Aris did his damnedest to get Twitter folks out to welcome me, but it wasn't all that successful. The only one awesome enough to show was Ruben, who we met at Local 16, after I walked many blocks in a torrential downpour. Despite having an umbrella, I still hadn't quite dried out 2 beers later when we walked down the road for Ethiopian food at Dukem.
I had never eaten Ethiopian before, but I'm an instant fan. Apparently it's big here, and do you want to get some Ethiopian food is essentially code for ya wanna go eat a big pile of meat? Yes. Yes, sir, I do.
After a couple more drinks at the famous gay hangout Nellie's Sports Bar, poor Aris ran out of steam and went home. Bless his heart, he fought through a terrible cold to go out and entertain me. Luckily Ruben was all too happy to take over guiding my booze tour, with one last stop at Mad Hatter.
Mad Hatter is a total meat market for Bros and Woo Girls, very much the Jersey Shore of DC. The sociologist in me was fascinated; my inner party girl was loving it. Ruben's only advice was pretend you're 22 again. Done. We drank, we danced, we set out to accomplish the random DFMO (Dance Floor Make Out), but ended up just hanging with each other the whole night instead. I'm sure it would have been possible, the moment Ruben took 2 steps away to grab us drinks, a dude hit on me. Ruben had talked to a group of ridic bachelorette party girls earlier, and when he left to walk me back to my hotel, they all turned and glared at me. The whole experience was fantastic. Absolutely fantastic.
But all the fun means that now I'm sleep deprived for my rainy DC Sunday, and I may not be able to really make the most of it. I always blow it out on the first night of trips like this and spend the rest suffering. Maybe someday I'll learn...
Nah.
*Aris eventually cleared this up for me, after getting very frustrated with my inability to call DC the right name on Twitter.
09 April 2012
Columbia City Theater: The Barr Brothers
I fell in love with The Barr Brothers almost instantly. Their self-titled debut album has a little bit of everything on it, mixing more genres and influences than I could possibly pick out, with ease and beauty. They embody everything I adore about music, so when I heard they were playing in Seattle, I immediately bought a ticket.
Unfortunately the venue was everything I hate about Seattle. The theater itself was small, gorgeous and had great sound; the bar attached to it was pretty much Hipster Hell. But I endured.
I endured the door guy saying "As far as I know, it still starts at 8," with the bar empty at 7:45.
I endured coming back 20 minutes later and having him say, "Uh, I think doors are at 8:30 or 9 now."
I endured a $6 beer served by a bartender with a dredlocked rat tail.
And I endured a few BINGO games in which I could have won "Really cool stuff like a PBR coozie."
When I finally got in the door, the show started off with a local combo called The Thoughts. They weren't bad, and I think they were chosen to open because, like The Barr Brothers, they have a mellow rock vibe and a harpist. However, the crowd wasn't totally won over. In the quieter moments, everyone could clearly hear conversations going on across the room. (No, really, even the singer looked over as a guy went "So ANYWAY, like I was saying..." mid-song). And I haven't seen a crowd stand so awkwardly far from the dance floor since my last 8th grade mixer. I enjoyed the songs, but I felt bad for them.
Eventually The Thoughts left the stage (cordial applause), and The Barr Brothers came out to set up. Yes, they set up their own gear. I may have been the only one in the room who knew what they looked like and noticed it, though, since they're not exactly MTV stars, and they do kind of resemble roadies.
The Barr Brothers -- who called themselves The Barr Brothers and Friends last night, Brad & Andrew Barr, Sarah Page, and Andres Vial -- kicked off with Beggar in the Morning, their single, and a fitting opener, thanks to the following verse:
It seems I’ve come a long long way
To sit before you here today
They’re yours and yours the songs I play
To take with you or throw away
They went on to play a few songs from the record, and a few more. I'm not really willing or able to do any sort of review; I just dug it. Their joy made me happy, because the band made it clear that they are just a bunch of music nerds who love what they do.
At the same time, they sounded amazing, and despite some audience participation of adding to the guitar sounds made with thread (and a request for a fan to grab both brothers Barr some Jamesons, neat, with their drink tickets) didn't really put on a show at all. They just played their hearts out, from folk to blues to Black Sabbath-esque rock, with a bit of everything else in between. The encore was mostly a game of dueling harp and guitar, which was actually funny, but oh! so nerdy. Just hearing them do their thing was what made it great; it was all about the music, what we all had in common.
So as much as I geeked out and adored the gig, I'm not sure The Barr Brothers would ever really translate to be arena rock stars. I can't imagine them playing on a big television event. And I bet they're okay with that, because they don't seem like they'd feel comfortable there anyway. I just hope they are successful enough to keep doing their thing, and get some appreciation for how good they are.
Because they are really REALLY good.
Unfortunately the venue was everything I hate about Seattle. The theater itself was small, gorgeous and had great sound; the bar attached to it was pretty much Hipster Hell. But I endured.
I endured the door guy saying "As far as I know, it still starts at 8," with the bar empty at 7:45.
I endured coming back 20 minutes later and having him say, "Uh, I think doors are at 8:30 or 9 now."
I endured a $6 beer served by a bartender with a dredlocked rat tail.
And I endured a few BINGO games in which I could have won "Really cool stuff like a PBR coozie."
When I finally got in the door, the show started off with a local combo called The Thoughts. They weren't bad, and I think they were chosen to open because, like The Barr Brothers, they have a mellow rock vibe and a harpist. However, the crowd wasn't totally won over. In the quieter moments, everyone could clearly hear conversations going on across the room. (No, really, even the singer looked over as a guy went "So ANYWAY, like I was saying..." mid-song). And I haven't seen a crowd stand so awkwardly far from the dance floor since my last 8th grade mixer. I enjoyed the songs, but I felt bad for them.
Eventually The Thoughts left the stage (cordial applause), and The Barr Brothers came out to set up. Yes, they set up their own gear. I may have been the only one in the room who knew what they looked like and noticed it, though, since they're not exactly MTV stars, and they do kind of resemble roadies.
It seems I’ve come a long long way
To sit before you here today
They’re yours and yours the songs I play
To take with you or throw away
They went on to play a few songs from the record, and a few more. I'm not really willing or able to do any sort of review; I just dug it. Their joy made me happy, because the band made it clear that they are just a bunch of music nerds who love what they do.
At the same time, they sounded amazing, and despite some audience participation of adding to the guitar sounds made with thread (and a request for a fan to grab both brothers Barr some Jamesons, neat, with their drink tickets) didn't really put on a show at all. They just played their hearts out, from folk to blues to Black Sabbath-esque rock, with a bit of everything else in between. The encore was mostly a game of dueling harp and guitar, which was actually funny, but oh! so nerdy. Just hearing them do their thing was what made it great; it was all about the music, what we all had in common.So as much as I geeked out and adored the gig, I'm not sure The Barr Brothers would ever really translate to be arena rock stars. I can't imagine them playing on a big television event. And I bet they're okay with that, because they don't seem like they'd feel comfortable there anyway. I just hope they are successful enough to keep doing their thing, and get some appreciation for how good they are.
Because they are really REALLY good.
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