SHARING THE SHOWS
I don’t usually talk about dreams I’ve had, but I thought it appropriate to start off this post with one. Lately, I’ve been fixed on the song “True Faith” by New Order; it’s just a neat song. In this dream, I was in an 80s dance club, wearing a Devo-style hat, boogeying to that tune. So the serendipity of JJ inviting me to a dance party, replete with 80s dance music, got me stoked.
I spent 4/20 in downtown Bethesda two years ago to the Grateful Dead-fueled stylings of the Montgomery Warlocks. It was fun, and there were two similar shows within Metro distance from me: 1) On the Bus at Bethesda Boards; and 2) the Wharf Rats at Hank Dietle’s Tavern, near the North Bethesda stop. Had I not solidified Runaway Gin as my April show, I likely would have gone to On the Bus with Pete. So, in a way, I’m glad for this “one show a month” commitment, as it’s opening me up to other things. I did get to connect with Pete over dinner at Silver New American Brassiere, one of many restaurants on lively Woodmont Avenue. I had devoured half a Wegman’s pizza the night before and was feeling some “carbohydrate remorse.” So I ordered a half Cobb salad, which was quite huge. Pete and I talked music and shows and hiking and our mutual preference for public transportation. The history of Bethesda also came up; Pete lived here back when it was a bohemian paradise, before urban sprawl. He was mystified by all the office buildings, restaurants, and apartments that have been built in the last couple of decades. I’ve never known any other version of Bethesda, so it’s cool to know the history. It reminds me of the scene in Cobra Kai where Daniel LaRusso learns that village in Okinawa he visited in The Karate Kid Part II now has a Gap, a Red Lobster, and a Jersey Mike’s. I met JJ at the Barking Dog, and I was surprised to see an empty room; I expected to see a crowded dance floor filled with multicolored hair, spandex, and Devo-style hats. What I did get was a free dark chocolate bar, appetizers (including some neat BBQ shrimp skewers, pictured above), and a benefit from ForestPlanet to celebrate Earth Day. And the best part: good conversation. JJ’s friend Jason also keeps a spiral notebook to log songs; LOVE IT! I did the same thing. I’ll list a sample of the songs I heard and, in some cases, offer a story to go with each song: “Bette Davis Eyes” (Kim Carnes) – When I was sixteen, my family moved. When we got to our new house, I spotted a box filled with random ideas, including the Flashdance soundtrack. As a CD collector, I had to add it. While I wasn’t a huge fan of the movie, the soundtrack did bump. “Only the Lonely” (The Motels) “I’m Your Boogie Man” (KC and the Sunshine Band) “The Hustle” (Van McCoy) – I first heard the song on The Simpsons episode, “The Way We Was.” In that episode, Homer meets Marge and is smitten. Faking his way into her house to be tutored, he gets to know her, and at one point, they’re dancing to this song. Sadly, I couldn’t find this clip. “I Can Dream About You” (Dan Hartman) “You Sexy Thang” (Hot Chocolate) “Nobody Does It Better Than You” (Chaka Khan) “Night Fever” (The Bee Gees) – When I was a kid, my Mom would drag me shopping, and she had a cassette of their Greatest Hits. While I couldn’t stand having to try on clothes, I dug this album, which is forever embedded in my subconscious. “Bring on the Dancing Horses” (Echo and the Bunnymen) “Come Undone” (Duran Duran) “Boys Don’t Cry” (The Cure) “Dr & The Medics” (Spirit in the Sky) – Norman Greenbaum did a better job on this. “The Jean Genie” (David Bowie) “Radio Free Europe” (REM) – My first exposure to REM was the video for “Drive.” Upon loving this song, I bought a tape of Automatic For the People. The grunge-inspired Monster is still my favorite of theirs, and “Crush with Eyeliners” tops all other tunes on that album. “Gone Daddy Gone” (Violet Femmes) “Billie Jean” (Michael Jackson) – Looking past Jackson’s proclivities for the younger generation, he is a great performer. That said, I don’t like this one. “One Night in Bangkok” (Murray Head) – I like this tune, but nothing beats Mike Tyson’s performance of it (reference: The Hangover Part 2). “La Vida Loca” (Ricky Martin) I mentioned the lack of dance fever on the floor, save for two women dancing for a couple of the songs. That said, I don’t mind a low-key, conversation-filled event. But after JJ and Jason dropped me off, I turned the livestream of Phish’s performance at the Sphere, and bopped to “Set Your Soul Free.” All in all, it was a fun night. Good food, great music, excellent people.
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Why is it that all the meetings seem to pile up at the end of the school year, right when my battery is at about 6%? Three committee meetings in two days; welcome to the world of tenure. I had also given my “How to be Single and Happy” presentation the night before and enjoyed a nice post-talk meal with my friends and fellow pro-single tribespeople Kristen and JJ afterwards (here’s a link to JJ’s YouTube channel). I hadn’t slept much the night before the presentation, and was still catching up on sleep all day Friday. Nonetheless, I was committed to this show for a while. Due to the adulting that comes with homebuying, I won’t be planning on traveling this summer for any Phish shows, so Runaway Gin would be my Phish phix. I had seen them at the Broadberry, located two hours south in Richmond, seven years earlier with Mark/Brodysseus and Drew/Brometheus, and enjoyed their act. I’d been out of town every time they hit the DC area, but now that I’d be in town, this would be my April show. I sipped on a Cherry Coke Zero during the Metro ride down and made it there at about 8:10 to a half-full venue and empty stage. Was this group attempting to follow Phish’s tradition of starting forty-five minutes late? Guys, you’re not Phish; you don’t have that draw! Nonetheless, 8:20 isn’t a bad start time, not quite the waiting time of Phish, or even worse, Madonna. They opened with “Chalkdust Torture,” a fitting tune for my meeting streak. As I type this, I do know this committee service has some type of long-term benefit, so I persist, hence why I need shows. Following this was “Sample in a Jar,” and the jam with that was the show’s highlight for me. I’ve never even heard the real Fab Four do that. After “The Wedge,” the singer welcomed us and said, “Feel free to request.” We got the usual “Play some Skynyrd” and someone demanded “The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round.” If Drew had been there, I would’ve yelled, “Waiting for the Bus!” We did get “Horn,” “Squirming Coil,” and “Runaway Jim.” During the opening of it, another dude and I were trying to guess what song they were going to. He went with “Piper,” me “Sigma Oasis” and “Antelope.” 0 for 3 between the two of us, although I know my “Antelope” teases when I hear them. During the setbreak, I talked to a long-haired dude named John from Gaithersburg who sipped his water by the bar. When he’s not at shows, he’s a statistician for the Federal Government who studies wage increases (see? We have jobs! Take that, haters!). We talked about how wage growth does not match cost-of-living increases by a long shot, especially not for DC employees, but I do enjoy my work fervently, and the benefits are great (such as the fact that DC gives me an amount equal to 7% of my annual salary every year to my 401K). Set 2 kicked off with “Tweezer,” followed by “David Bowie” and “Divided Sky” in a Junta twofer, “Contact” (which always makes me think of that night my car got towed from Mark’s complex post-SCI,” and “Tweezer Reprise.” “You Enjoy Myself” and “Harry Hood” closed the show. Overall, I enjoyed the show, but the group do well to learn some new songs. Phish has updated their repertoire extensively since 1994, folks! But hey, I appreciate your tunes nonetheless. Some random notes: 1)The bathroom always offers some interesting anecdotes. One dude filmed the guy at the urinal next to him peeing. Hey, no judgments on my end. 2)Someone left a quartet of C batteries on a sink countertop. Judgment on my end. Put your garbage in a garbage can, people! Don’t just leave it by the sink! For context, click here. That said, perhaps someone was trying to make an artistic or political statement, so, oh well…Here’s the pic below. 1)The bassist’s Purple Rain shirt was neat, a tribute to Phish’s frequent renditions of that Prince tune in their 90s shows.
2)I loved that “Chilly Water” tease from the bassist, right before “YEM.” They should have played it! WSMFP! As the night went on and the music play, my dancing became way more physical, and I engaged in fist-bumps, high-fives, and hugs with random folks. Strangers stopping strangers indeed…that’s how it oughta be, even if they’re drunk and/or high. Once I got home, I laid my feet up on the couch and flipped to an episode of Loudermilk, that dramedy starring Ron Livingston as a curmudgeonly leader of a support group for alcoholics and addicts. The plan was to watch an ep and go to bed. But I was so wiped from dancing, not to mention life, that it took every ounce of my will just to migrate toward the bed. I’ve been cycling back on the shows, and once again, I’m finding they’re way more fun when I space them out. I’ve been seeing a wider variety of them too (VNV Nation last week, Nicholas Payton the week before, Silversun Pickups in May, James Taylor in September). But it was nice to go back to my roots. Here’s hoping the real Phish returns to DC someday. This fall, perhaps? And if people come in from out of town, assuming all goes well with the home, I’ll have a second bedroom in which they can sleep. Fingers crossed! In keeping with my motif of Simpsons-related introductions, I love this clip of Homer’s daydream about being a mafia don, being offered donuts.
As the founder of the Childfree Singles of the DMV Group (hikes up suspenders in a pretentious manner), I’ve had the chance to meet some very cool people and make new friends. But I never thought I’d get hook-ups to music. Beher gave me a USB drive filled with music, and I’ve gotten tickets to two concerts over the last four days. On this occasion, Rolf hooked me up with a free ticket to VNV Nation. I hadn’t heard of them, but on my listen, they reminded me of Depeche Mode. I was also psyched to hit up the Fillmore again; I’d only been once before to see Bad Religion. I met up with Rolf, his brother Jan, and his friend Nick at the Dog Haus pre-show. Their menu has all kinds of decorative hot dogs and hamburgers, but since I’d eaten a dinner of a turkey burger (no bun), broccoli, salad, along with a PayDay for dessert, I settled on a small cup of chili and a Coke Zero. We played a game called “100 Questions,” which prompt deep reflection. One question stood out: is there anyone you regret losing touch with? I have lost a close friend or two due to political differences, but we won’t go there. We got to the Fillmore at around 8:40, where the opener, Traitrs, had just finished. Nick likened them to The Cure; Berk, Tears for Fears. I was definitely willing to shout and let it out at this show. After all, that’s how we fulfill our desire to rule the world! Ba-dum-bum! Anyway, Rolf pointed out the show had a dress code, and none of us were in compliance. It consists of all black. I saw a lot of black lipstick, fishnet stockings, a hoodie that read “Don’t Fucking Touch Me,” and a KMFDM shirt. I think of their music video, “A Drug Against War,” which opens with the words, “Kill Everything,” which I only know thanks to these two laureates. I know I stood out in my sweater and Ivy League hat among all these goth/emo types. It reminded me of when Pete and his friend Steve went to Blackberry Smoke at this venue; their tie-dyes were big dots in a sea of MAGAheads. While I’ve never been part of the industrial scene, I did enjoy the show. I couldn’t tell you the names of any of their songs, but I did dance pretty intensely. At one point, the singer, Ronan Harris, told the audience, “Put away your fucking cameras and enjoy the show!” Mine had been pocketed, but their light show is quite photogenic. Harris is a good speaker as well and has good social messages, just like Bruce Dickinson. He encouraged the younger members of the audience to “when you’re done with that school thing, make your mark on the world.” He also mandated us to “reach out to others and be kind.” Both awesome messages. On the Metro ride home, I was greeted by a thread to establish a Singles Bill of Rights, which is, as defined by its originator, Tracy Houston, “a ‘corrective blueprint’ that seeks to establish equality for singles in five categories: 1) legal; 2) medical; 3) academia; 4) business; and 5) sociocultural.” I couldn’t resist responding to the thread, even after a show; that’s how much I care. That said, without these shows, I wouldn’t have the energy to be involved in that realm. And a happy early birthday to Rolf! This was supposed to be his birthday show last year before the band rescheduled. Glad I got to be a part of it, however belated. My brother Jeremy and I both have The Simpsons embedded into our respective personalities. Since I moved away from New York, we’ve bonded by texting dialogue exchanges from that show to each other. Here’s one starting a caricature of Bill Cosby (I know, I know).
I’ve been on somewhat of a jazz kick ever since I rewatched Whiplash on Netflix. Such a dynamic performance from J.K. Simmons, and that music! So I’ve given listens to the likes of Charlie Parker, John Coltrane, Miles Davis, and the like. If you haven’t watched the flick, I highly recommend. When my friend Tonja sent me the text offering me a free ticket to Nicholas Payton at Blues Alley, I was ecstatic. And there was some synchronicity there as well (yay, Police!). In a class discussion of Crip Camp (I also recommend), a student talked about a friend of his who had a disability; thanks to the support he received, he’s been able to thrive as an accomplished pianist and even played at Blues Alley. I grabbed that opportunity! I would describe the DC Metro as good, but not great. One thing that keeps it out of the latter category is that it doesn’t go through Georgetown. It’s such a popular neighborhood that it feels stupid that the Metro wouldn’t stop there. I did walk to a nearby bus stop to catch the 33. And, of course, I had to text Drew with our usual “Waiting for the Bus” joke. I met up with Tanja and her friend/roommate Alicia, who were literally in front of the club door. I had to get some pictures of this brick, bohemian-like building before going inside. While we waited for the early show to attend, we had a deep discussion about singlehood. I just can’t talk about my work without hearing different perspectives on the topic. Alicia had an awesome insight that the population of singles living alone is higher in socialist countries and might even be cheaper (another reason to move out of the US should our political climate continue to redden). We were seated near the stage. It’s super-hip inside, if tiny (our tables were bunched together). The conversation shifted to even deeper topics, like Pizza: New York vs. Chicago vs. Detroit (ummmmm, New York, duhhhh, it folds!). And Philly cheesesteaks: provolone vs. Cheez Whiz vs. American (I’ve tried them all; I prefer American). And I’ll have to add a Wawa cheesesteak to my dining list! Before the show started, the emcee stated the rules, “Photos are cool. Videos are not. Keep conversations to a minimum.” I would have loved for that chatty couple at last week’s Eggy show to have heard that, so I was quite appreciative. I hadn’t heard of Nicholas Payton before Tanja’s text, so I wouldn’t have been able to identify any of his songs. But the crowd did sing “Jazz is a four-letter word.” And Payton identified a Wayne Shorter song called “Fall.” What a show! And I’ve never seen anyone simultaneously play keyboards and trumpet. This crowd was more sophisticated than the crunchy, patchouli- and marijuana-infused concertgoers with whom I interact. Lots of sweaters and Thinkeresque poses at Blues Alley. While Eggy counted as my March show, I made a new rule: it doesn’t count if I’m invited with a free ticket. And if it’s with a Childfree by Choice ally, I can consider that in service to that larger movement. Tanja and I met at a Childfree dinner I organized, and I’ll give a shout-out to her for her upcoming move to Germany to become a translator. We can do this stuff as Childfree folks! I also needed some music therapy - stat. In my big news, I went under contract for a home (more in a future post; at this point, I don’t want to jinx it by discussing too much of the details). Homebuying is stressful and has had me on a rollercoaster of emotions; fortunately, I have an amazing realtor, Jason Koitz, who’s helped me navigate that journey. But to be able to enjoy some music was a nice breather. And the lack of chatter was a nice plus. Take note, jamheads! So you know how sometimes you’re all psyched up to see a band and there’s an opener and the opener’s even better than the main act? Well, I do. I know that very well. New Year’s Eve 2022 was the first time I had gone out on New Year’s since before lockdown. I had ridden an Amtrak from DC to Philadelphia to see moe. with Shana. A group named Eggy opened for them, and I remember being more enthralled with Eggy, whom I’d never heard before. So when I heard they were coming down to DC, I had to make them my March show. I had to rally for this one. The night before had been a late one; I’d gone up to Baltimore to meet with my friends Kevin and Alicia to attend a discussion on Rhaina Cohen’s The Other Significant Others: Reimagining Life with Friendship at the Center, which posits the argument that friendship be given the same status as romance, an argument I wholeheartedly agree with. The talk and company were both amazing, but Thursday was rough. I did manage to give a dynamic lesson to my students, but the rest of the day consisted of recuperation and repeating the mantra, “Gotta rally” so I could psyche up for the show. After pounding a Diet Coke and getting to the venue, I was back in action. A quick chat with a dude named Ryan from Bethesda got me fully charged, and he assured me the Disco Biscuits, a band I had seen a few times when I was younger but just can’t get into now, had improved. I did jog to a recent show of theirs, so I suppose I can open my mind up. Much like with New Potato Caboose and Circles Around the Sun, I don’t know Eggy’s repertoire. But they do a lot of classic rock covers ranging from Pink Floyd to Kiss to ELTON JOHN (I see “Benny and the Jets” in a new light). This evening, they did “Hush,” my favorite Deep Purple cut. And their jams were amazing. On my way out, a dude grabbed me and said, “Bro, I gotta tell you you were my spirit animal tonight!” I was so touched I had the perfectly cogent reply of “Oh, wow, ummm, thanks man.” Looking back, I should’ve gotten his name, but I was hustling to make my two-line Metro trip. Oh well, next time. That was the best compliment I’ve ever received at a show. So what made me his spirit animal for the night? Well, I danced with intensity. And dancing can be a powerful tool to push “talkers” away. After one Phish show, during that long walk down Madison Square Garden’s staircase, a woman with whom I talked handed me a card that said, “Please stop talking” and encouraged me to give it to people who insist of having conversations at the show. Talkers annoy me. A couple behind me just kept going back-and-forth. I didn’t have the card to hand them, so I figured if I can dance intensely, I mean, like “in their faces” intensely, they’d move. I did accidentally, lightly bump into the dude who spilled a drop of his beer on me, but hey, that’s a small price to pay. And they did move. “Gotta dance ‘em out,” was the advice I received from a concertgoer on how to get people out of your space at a small, general admission venue. A New York attitude for sure. Seriously, people, do your yapping on the patio. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. Anywho, I made a point of cooking up some scrambled eggs post-show. I mean, I was seeing a band called Eggy. It wouldn’t make sense NOT to have some eggs afterwards, right? So now that I’ve graced you with food porn, here are some more pics from the Atlantis’s rooftop. As Ben said, “It’s like going back to 1985.” I would’ve loved to patronize the old 9:30 Club. And that missing parking meter is incredible. “Some drunk must’ve hit it after a show,” I heard someone say. Sounds about right.
And that’s why I Metro to shows. I love DC! I grew up in the 1990s, otherwise known as the golden era of The Simpsons. Every Thursday night at 7:59 (and then, eventually, Sunday), I’d rush to the television, eager to catch the latest antics of “dumbass Homer.” And, of course, other characters would do their thing. Bart would cause mischief. Lisa would be involved in some sort of cause, whether it be speaking out against a sexist rhetoric-spouting doll or trying to convert everyone to her newfound vegetarianism. And Marge would grumble, “Mmmmmmm…”
But this bit’s shaped a good chunk of my personality. I first saw it at the age of fifteen and pretty much laughed for the same length of time Mr. Burns did. I’ve found laughter to be a healthy therapeutic tool. As I began my career as a professor, I learned that a sizable portion of my job involved helping students manage the stress that came from the projects I assigned. Ironically, said projects, in combination with all their other work, created stress for them that needed to be managed. And I’d have to work to keep their stress from becoming mine. As an empath, I am prone to taking on others’ issues. I’d also became a fan of the Southern rock-style jam band Widespread Panic after having seen them at Richmond, Virginia’s iconic Altria Theater, and a few months later, at Raleigh, North Carolina’s Walnut Creek Pavilion. At one point, I connected that student panic was widespread throughout campus. So there would be Widespread Panic on campus. I posted this joke on Facebook and made I was laughing for ten minutes at said joke, much like Mr. Burns. Eventually, I did this four times per semester: 1) the Add/Drop period at the beginning of the semester; 2) Midterm Week; 3) the week leading up to the last day students could withdraw from classes with a “W” as opposed to an “F”; and 4) Finals Week. It got a lot of “laughing” reactions, as well as a small fanbase of people who looked forward to my Burnsesque antics. For example, why did the mushroom go to the party? Because he was a fungi! Hahahahhahaha…hahahhahahahah (10 minutes later) hahahahhahahahah…hahahahhahahahah (picks self up from floor, wipes tear from eye). So the point of this little ditty is to share ways I cope with stress. It’s important to have interests outside of one’s work, no matter how much you love it. And in academe, we tend to live and breathe our work (myself included). However, my love of The Simpsons and Widespread Panic helps keep me balanced. Once in a while, I’ll pop one of my DVDs in and laugh myself silly. And I’ll have a Widespread Panic show playing on my laptop while I’m writing reports, researching, or planning lessons. So how do you laugh for ten minutes? Well, it’s easy. But you don’t have to. You don’t even have to like Widespread Panic (although I don’t understand why you wouldn’t; I mean how could you not love their version of “Cream Puff War?”). But do find that thing that keeps you from taking work, and life, too seriously. Circles Around the Sun w/Mikaela Davis - The Atlantis - Washington, DC - February 28, 20242/29/2024 The week before spring break is a lot like that little pocket of sun that comes up at the end of a storm. Much welcomed, but there’s still some dreariness to get through. In my case, it’s the intensity of Midterm week. And, thanks to a committee chair who has just the right combination of unorganized and abrasive, I’ll be doing some work over spring break. But at least I’ll get to go out of town for my conference. To break up the pre-spring break week, I would have two firsts. My first time seeing Circles Around the Sun and my first show at DC’s newest venue, The Atlantis. For months, their shows had been sold out through a lottery (Foo Fighters and Drive-By Truckers among the cats), but things have settled down. Pete also introduced me to them through one of his videos, and I dug their groovy instrumentals. As I had one of their shows piping through my headphones, I felt like I was John Travolta strutting down 9th Street a la the end of Staying Alive. My Ivy League hat gave me that extra “jivey” feel. I got to the Atlantis at around 7:30, and it was tiny. The atmosphere reminded me of New York’s Gramercy Theatre, where I saw a late-night performance of The Marcus King Band after a Phish show. I can’t even fathom doing that now. When the hell did I get so old? Mikaela Davis took the stage at 8, and as Pete said, “that harp is part of her.” In combination with the band, she was…magic. Her voice reminds me of Suzanne Vega, and I had an ongoing skingasm through some of her songs, especially when the band got psychedelic. During setbreak, I ran into Ben (9/16/23), who advised me to check out the rooftop of The Atlantis, which he described as “like going back to 1985.” He was right. Very old-school punk club feel to it, much like 9:30 Club. The collage that compromises the wall is neat too, much like Sheila did in her and Mark’s house. I also met a cool young lady named Sam, who works for the National Park Service. She encouraged me to start using my Instagram, which I tried to. But it’s been so long it’s now expired. So I started up a new one, and I’ll post these blogs there. She also recommended a blues artist named Selwyn Birchwood and briefly introduced me to her friend Justine. I love making connections.
Circles Around the Sun took the stage at about 9:00. I knew the songs from having listened to them, but the one I can identify upon first note is “Pete Jive,” my favorite. And the disco balls in background were fitting decorations, a la my aforementioned channeling of Tony Manero. At around 10:45, the show crowded to thin out. I was enjoying myself, but the caffeine from the Diet Dr. Pepper I had pounded preshow was wearing off, and I had two trains to catch. Not to mention a pile of grading that needed a quick turnaround coming my way – the downside of an eight-week course. The upside: the course is over soon, and I’ll be able to focus on other research, service, and professional development projects. Upon my return home, I made a grilled cheese sandwich, fell asleep on the couch with Chester on my lap, woke back up, and fell asleep on the bed, Chester on the other end of it. I enjoy these shows much more when I do them less frequently. But today was rough going – fortunately, I had scheduled a librarian to talk to my first-year writing students about how to find sources, and I just had to chime in every now and again. Thank the Cubans for that coffee I had to start my day. When I first heard about a band called New Potato Caboose, I thought they were a Grateful Dead tribute. And, to be fair, they play Grateful Dead songs. But they mostly playing original songs, and they do a hell of a job. I had put off buying tickets for this show; I’ve been graced with COVID the past two Januarys (and the month isn’t over yet). But when Friday morning came around and I was feeling spunky, I went ahead and made the purchase. New Potato Caboose has been around since the 1980s, and Susan informed me she used to see them at a venue called The Bayou, a venue I’d never heard of. When I shared this with Daryl, he mentioned DC didn’t have a ton of live music in that decade, so the Bayou was “it.” I was grateful (haha) for that historical tidbit. At any rate, the semester’s started back up, so there’s the usual widespread panic that goes with trying to help students situate. I have an additional project: real estate. After thirteen years of bopping around the country, I’m now taking the plunge to buy my first home. So my monthly show couldn’t have come at a better time. My stomach had been giving me problems all day, but a nice tomato soup and grilled cheese seemed to put it at ease. At a little after 7:00, I made my way through the 20ish degree cold to the Metro. I was greeted by Pete and Steve as I made my way to the Hamilton’s basement; their extra ticket allowed me to sit at the table in the “exclusive” section with them (thanks for the upgrade, btw). This show had Special Guest opening (a favorite of Drew, Mark, Gary, and me). Actually, those guests were named Joe Lawlor (guitar) and Kristen Rae Bowden (piano). I was hoping the Caboose would start, but they were a nice opener, very serene. Lawlor’s a great guitar player. The constant chatter of the two couples at the table next to me was a bit annoying, but I was able to enjoy. Pete also spotted a “Friend of the Devil” tease. We could hear the feedback from the amps as the Caboose warmed up their instruments. Mike joked, “Are they starting with “Feedback?” I added, “Yeah, then “We Bid You Goodnight.” Thanks for a great show.” I could hear a “Not Fade Away” tease from the drummer, before they went into one of their originals. I don’t know this band’s repertoire, but I did listen to their newest album, It Ain’t a Thing, on the Metro ride down. So I was able to discern a few of their songs, such as “Shine,” “Sweet Georgia Angel,” and “Brave New World” (I can’t help but think of the Huxley dystopia and the Iron Maiden song). Their brand of jam rock reminded me of Strangefolk, that Vermont quartet I used to see back in my purple-hazed 20s. And now onto covers: “Throwing Stones” (Grateful Dead - perfect for this political climate) “Late in the Evening” (Paul Simon) “Right Place, Wrong Time” (Dr. John) “Give Up the Funk” (Parliament) “Cortez the Killer” (Neil Young – spotted by Pete) “Imagine” (John Lennon) Simply put, this band is amazing. I’ve either been out of town or out of battery when these guys have played. But, this “one show a month” commitment I’ve made has renewed my energy so that I’m able to really enjoy the show like one would enjoy the occasional bacon cheeseburger with fries and a chocolate shake. And, as far as smaller shows, this is the best one I’ve been to in, well, ever. Some random notes: 1)I couldn’t resist photobombing a group picture near me by sticking my head in and flashing a peace sign. The dude next to the picture thought that was hilarious and gave me a fist bump. I took Alan’s sage advice, which he gave me when I did this at the Slayer show in Chicago: “Never apologize for photobombing.” 2)The aroma of marijuana pervaded the dance floor. A bit different from when I used to see shows, but now that it’s legal, c’est la vie… 3)This one is serious. I saw a drunk dude get behind a young lady and grab her waist, to which she flinched. My conclusion: they were not together, and she wasn’t digging it. My alarms went off, and my eyes were on this dude like flies to feces. I was ready to intervene if he were to persist. At one point, his buddy talked to him. I guess he was about to do it again, and the friend knew it. He said, “Don’t do that shit, man.” Good on him for calling him out; he was probably in a better position than I, who might not have come across in as friendly a manner. I remembered that time some guy said “nice tits” to a gal at that Phish show in Merriweather. That thing is not. Fucking. Cool. I’ll post a link to GrooveSafe, that group devoted to stopping unwanted touching at shows. I first saw them at the Umphrey’s McGee show last February, and I will support their mission. That kind of behavior pisses me off to no end. But, I was able to get back to my enjoyment of the show. 4)Now that I’ve vented, something light: our table was under this cool black and white picture of The Ramones. I’m a bit sad I never saw them live, but there are the videos. I will make sure my battery is on 100% the next time I can see these guys. One of the best times I’ve ever had at a show.
I’ve always been a planner. So when it comes to shows, I typically get tickets the day they go on sale. I hadn’t planned on seeing any Phish shows; after all, I saw that Allman Betts show earlier this month with Pete. That would break my “one show per month” rule!
I had planned to leave New York, where I’d been for the holidays, on December 27. But the flooding that pervaded the East Coast ruined that plan; I wasn’t going to risk hydroplaning, especially not with Chester in the car. And when they predicted rain the following day, I remembered Phish was starting their run on the 28th. Due to life circumstances, John and I couldn’t get together for dinner the week prior, so I figured it would be fun to hit a show with him. I could also see Laura, who I’d missed as well. I was able to get the ticket for $109 on Stubhub about seven hours before the show. It saddens me to say that was the first time I’d gotten it for less than face value (the ticket for my first show in ’99 cost around $30). I met Laura (a Single Person at Heart I know from my awesome Community of Single People page) and John (a fellow Single Person at Heart and showgoer at NY Pizza Suprema, home of some real New York-style pizza, where we talked about a variety of topics, such as music and mental health in higher education, and Laura guided us toward one of the few places in Manhattan one can use a bathroom without purchasing anything: the Old Navy on 34th Street. John and I parted ways with Laura so we could get into the show. After going through an airport-style security check (I expected to be strip-searched), we made our way in. Pro-single anecdote: we passed a couple arguing. The woman said, "I didn't wanna fucking see this show! You made me see this fucking show!" They walked behind us pretty much to the ticket-takers and went back and forth. We looked at each other, and I whispered, "Thank God I'm single” to which he nodded. John and I talked near his section; he told me the story about how a dude threw an M80 into the crowd during a Led Zeppelin show at MSG in 1977. I just can’t imagine that now, but I guess that was the time period. We headed to our respective seats, and the first set consisted mostly on old standards. “No Men in No Man’s Land” opened the show. I didn’t care for it at first (nor was I fan of Big Boat) but that song has grown on me recently. “Runaway Jim” and “Bathtub Gin” were the highlights. They appeared to tease “Say It To Me S.A.N.T.O.S” before launching into “Ghost” for the first set. I was a bit bummed, particularly when I learned they closed the show with it; I had exited after the second set to beat the crowd out of MSG. That line going downstairs moves verrrrrrrrrry slowwwwwwwwwwwlyyyyyyyyyyy. I’ll circle back to the beginning of the second set, which opened with two fresh tunes for me, “The Howling” and “Wave of Hope,” which I fell in love with when they played it at MSG on 7/28/23. I had tried to sneak down to John’s section, but just like during the summer shows, security pulled me out between “The Howling.” Oh well. I still enjoyed the view from Section 212. On the train to Secaucus, I talked to a kid named Zack from New Jersey about the show’s highlights. He’d be going to Friday night’s show as well and was ecstatic that he’d gotten to the venue early enough to get a poster before they sold out. I remember when I used to collect merch; these days, I’m all about just enjoying the memories, but it’s like the song goes, “Now the world don’t move to the beat of just one drum, what might be right for you may not be right for some…” It’s 12:32 a.m. on January 1 as I type this from my desk in my DC apartment. On New Year’s Eve 2020 and 2021, we were still on lockdown, and I was perfectly content to chill at home with Chester watching movies and eating junk food. Last year, Shana (who was at the remaining three shows of this run) and I hit moe. in Philadelphia. I consider this show my New Year’s show. And I did go hiking with a Meetup group morning, so I got some social interaction in. But I am running on some caffeine, and I did a double feature (The Hangover and Gung Ho!), so I’m pretty primed to write. Random thoughts:
I’m happy to be starting off 2024 doing two of my favorite things, writing and listening to Phish. I hope y’all are kicking off your New Year doing something you love, whether it’s being at a show, writing, sleeping, whatever. And if not, that’s cool too. Love you folk. Annnnnnnd the Widespread Panic that accompanies the end of the semester is in full swing. I needed a show like the Cookie Monster needs…well, you know. Anywho, after a morning spent advising a student who, when I told him he needed two elective courses, said, “I don’t see a Department Called Electives,” I was ready to get my Allman Brothers fix on, even if it was from the offspring of the original members. I met up with Pete at the Wegman’s by Capital One Hall, which is where I had dinner with Maggie before Jethro Tull and Kasi before Jesus Christ Superstar. I had craving some cold cuts, so I got a hugeass turkey, roast beef, and ham sub for only $10 (my brother had introduced me to their neverending meatball sub several years back). Of course, Wegman’s gets a nice pre-show crowd, and due to the fact that most of us who shop at Wegman’s are yuppie scum, most of the grizzled, bearded types in the café were going to the show. We all migrated to the venue, which is new and pristine. We met up with Pete’s friend Steve by a large Christmas tree before going in.
As for the show, I’ll just say that the voices and instruments seems to have passed down one generation to Devon Allman and Duane Betts. “It’s in the blood” is how Pete concisely put it. The animation on the screen is reminiscent of those shows I used to see at the Beacon Theatre with Rob. I’m providing a link to the setlist, with some thoughts on a few songs. “Little Martha” – The pictures of the Allmans in their younger years, along with the wistful vibe given out by the acoustic guitars made me feel like I was traveling back in time – which I was. This experience was reminiscent of those Beacon shows, and Allman Betts is as close as we’ll get to seeing the original. “No One To Run One With” – The opening guitar lick sounded very similar to the version on their 1994 album, Where It All Begins. “I’m No Angel” – A Gregg Allman tune, I’m sure it was the first song I heard from any Allman. I used to hear it all the time on Q104.3, the classic rock station I had my radio permanently tuned to in my first car, a rusty 1982 Toyota Corolla, which had no air conditioning and a radio that went all the way up to 11. “Pony Boy” and “Magnolia Road” – I’d rarely heard “Pony Boy.” “Magnolia Road” was a new one, which the boys encored the show with. It’s always nice hearing new tunes; it feels fresh. “Come and Go Blues” – This recently became my favorite Allmans tune. I heard it on their 2004 live album as I was grinding through rush hour traffic on Connecticut Avenue on the way back from Costco, and the music just fit the scene. I played it on repeat for a while. “One Way Out” - A number of artists rotated to play with the group; the only one I really knew of was Anders Osborne, who rocked on this tune. The downside of Metroing to the show is coming back at night, particularly on a Tuesday, when service ends at midnight and I have to catch two trains back. After the band finished “Magnolia Road,” I speed-walked to the Metro, where I was greeted by a ten-minute wait and a notification that thanks to police activity, the Silver Line would end at Ballston, a good seven stops from the transfer point at Metro Center. Once at Ballston, it was a fifteen-minute wait for the Orange Line. My anxiety mounted a bit as I anticipated missing the last Red Line train home and having to shell out money for an Uber. Fortunately, I made the second-to-last home, and with only a seven-minute wait. I got home at midnight, which, these days, is late for me. I started getting up at 6:30 a.m. once I remembered how nice it is to start the day early. Fortunately, I had gotten a power nap in after lunch. Waking up at 7:50 this morning without an alarm was a challenge, but that Cuban coffee I got in Tampa got me back to humanity. |
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April 2024
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