SHARING THE SHOWS
As the pandemic is subsiding, I’m trying to get out of my place as often as possible. Two years of staring at video screens and watching Netflix (the latter of which can be fun) will do that, and at the end of the semester, I figure I’ve made as good an impression as I can, so I owe it to myself to go out. After a dentist’s appointment downtown, I hopped the Silver Line to McLean, Virginia, where I was greeted by the Wegman’s. Anticipating this greeting, I packed one of my reusable shopping bags (go ecoconsciousness!) to place items for when I’d be purchasing. (Note: Wegman’s is evil. You walk in and they pretty much just take your wallet). I did buy a non-perishable item with the understanding I’d be going back for more. I walk back and forth Capital One Center Drive trying to find the entrance to the place until I saw the number. Upon reaching the rooftop, I saw a bunch of corporate types sipping fine hops and discussing what appeared to be financial matters. Very interesting place for a jam band to play. I ordered my fuel for the show, a bratwurst with fries, and it tasted fine, but not worth the $20 I paid (not to self: next time you go, try the Burger Bar at Wegman’s or one of the restaurants nearby). I staked out a spot on the grassy knoll between the bar and the stage, and I met a few heady-looking types named Nan, Bob, Tom, and Nick, all of whom knew the band quite well. Wherever you see a Dead cover band, whether it’s New York, Newport News, western Florida, or the DMV, there’s always a loyal cadre of followers.
The band opened up with Tom Petty’s “You Don’t Know How it Feels” and then launched into the Dead staple “Uncle John’s Band,” which has a funky twist to it, which according to Bob, is this band’s trademark: acoustic with some funk. Other tunes included “Scarlet Begonias”, Peter Tosh’s “Legalize It,” “Sugaree,” “Big Railroad Blues,” Stephen Stills’s “Love the One You’re With,” and they closed the set with a surprise, Dropkick Murphy’s “Shipping Up to Boston.” Bob then informed me that the lead singer used to croon for an AC/DC cover band, which explains some of the screaming. Me likee the fusion. And there was a nice joke: A sandwich walks into a bar, and the bartender says, “We don’t serve food.” There was a break somewhere in those songs, but I forgot to indicate where in my notes. Between the second and third set, I talked to a pair of dudes named Greg and Owen, the latter of whom I moved out from Arizona to move in with the former at his place in West Virginia. I also talked to my friend Jenny, who came from Welcome2DC, a Facebook group I’m in. And to think I’d pondered bouncing early due to the high winds at the rooftop. That being said, talking to them made the weather seem warmer. The third set brought out a mandolin player named Andrew. The final set consisted of:
“Bertha” made a good encore. After my departure, I bought some perishable salads and soups at Wegman’s (good on me for skipping over the pastries, despite an existential struggle not to do so), and enjoyed some Spencer Davis on my headphones for the Metro ride home. The tunes provided a nice beat for the experience of riding the gritty train, a perfect way to relax on the way home.
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May 2024
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