SHARING THE SHOWS
Read on if you’re wondering why a crumpled-up cup is the main photo for this post. I’d been looking forward to this evening for quite a while, particularly over the past week. And the last week of classes typically consists of a lot of “widespread panic” among students. But after a day of commenting on student final paper drafts, I was ready for some live music, an antidote to civilization. I met up with Pete at El Rey, a Mexican restaurant/bar, and the moment I walked in, I recognized it as the place Nicole and I met before my Lennon Claypool Delirium show (4/19/19). The service was fast, and my nachos were appropriately packed and greasy. I could have done without the loud group of 20somethings two tables over, but it was a good meal, and I hadn’t seen Pete in a while, so we caught up. He showed me his pictures from the Skull & Roses festival, as well as some West Coast hiking, including Joshua Tree National Park. I was living vicariously through him at that moment (damn work and Chester responsibilities). And after all those images I’ve built up in your head, here are some nachos: We got on line at about 7:20, where the conversation segued into the corporatization of live music venues: Northwell Health at Jones Beach, Wells Fargo Arena, the E! Centre. Gag. At least Hampton Coliseum and Madison Square Garden have their names intact.
We got in and continued the talk in the downstairs section before going up to see the opener, Lydia Loveless. I didn’t know anything about her and thought her name sounded like a folk rock artist, but she was more like angry country alternative. Her voice sounded inspired by Shania Twain and Alanis Morissette, true badass feminist rockers. Drive-By Truckers (DBT) came on promptly at 10:15; I don’t like that they started so late (what can I say? I’ve started to recognize my “early bird” tendencies). But the show was great. The room was packed, though Pete and I managed to find a spacious corner with enough room to move around. Pete and I assisted someone who was about to fall down before security escorted to them to (hopefully) receive medical attention. Other conversations/observations: some drunk dude whispered “I wanna dip out and get a cigarette but I don’t know if I can go for ten minutes.” Spoiler alert: he got his smoke in; I could smell the aroma. Security is tight about the cups we use for the free water. Someone got scolded for pouring the water into a beer cup; it’s supposed to go into a small one. I felt like I was engaged in subterfuge every time I poured my water into that big cup I got for my Diet Coke. I can’t identify most of DBT’s songs, but I heard “Marry Me” and “Steve McQueen.” Their lyrics are very left-leaning, which is quite badass given they’re from Georgia and spent time in Alabama. Southern Rock with a blue twist. I dig. By 12:15, the crowd thinned out and I could dance more easily, but I was spent and was thinking, Wrap it up! But the folks who stayed were into it. From what Pete told me, they went until about 12:40, and it was intense. They even got more political than usual (“Fuck fear!” Patterson Hood yelled. It was nice being at a show after the 48-day fast. Once home, I crashed out pretty easily while Chester claimed my stomach. All in all, a nice night.
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May 2024
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