the weakerthans played the high noon saloon in madison last night, a late show, waaay past my bedtime in a city an hour's drive away but i pretty much would have to have been padlocked down somewhere to have missed seeing them live again. been too long, john k.
matt and i left milwaukee a little after four. see, all week it had been really kind of beautiful, right? high 40s, low 50s. i envisioned spending some time puttering around on state street, getting into some pre-show trouble. HAH. cue snow, and temps in the 20s with bitter winds and me not wearing a proper coat for such weather and the two of us finding we had way too much time to kill.
amused by my general twitchiness during an attempt to kill time at a coffee house a few blocks away from the venue, the decision was made to wander over around 7:40. i thought maybe the doors didn't open til 8 - the show was at 9, but it's a whole complex of bars, etc., so when we were, in fact, turned away upon arrival we wandered into the neighboring restaurant to grab a beer.
samson was, of course, in there finishing up dinner, which i noticed as he and his wife and her bandmate got up to go.
in my head:
me: [follows john k. and co. out of the restaurant, flings self at leg] "omg! john k! your music has saved my life at least two times, for real, and my sanity probably more than that and i think you are really amazing and when jesus comes again in glory to judge the living and the dead i hope he's half as cool a dude as you are."
john k: [blushes and smiles and looks down while mumbling something indecipherable (as he has done pretty much every other time i have paid him a compliment of any kind) while delicately trying to free his calf from my arms]
god: [strikes me down with lightning]
what really happened:
me: [sees john k., smacks matt.] "omg! john k.!
"matt: "oh! cool."
cue wandering over to the high noon, which is a nice venue, small, stage high enough that unless you have those asshole six foot dudes who fail to notice they are standing in front of people descended from leprechauns you have a pretty good sightline.
christine opens up, and she is sweet, and i am reminded of how much it sucks to be an opening act, even more so when aa bondy took the stage. both were amazing sets. both were victim to people who seemed completely oblivious to the incredible level of rudeness involved in parking yourself three feet from the stage and then carrying on a conversation about the weather or whether you should have another beer. seriously, people. if you must talk, go to the back.
me: [kills them all with my mind.]
anyway, the weakerthans rolled on stage around eleven, which, for those of you who know me well fully realize, is about two hours past when i am typically beginning to fade into blessed unconsciousness. but i am pumped! i am in love with love and lousy poetry! there is a really psychotic man wearing cutoff daisy dukes and a unabomber beard parked to my front and left who i think will probably give me cause to fear for my life.
psychotic man: [turns to me, grinning wildly] "don't worry! i won't be here the whole night!"
me: [gives big ups to god for answering my prayers]
psychotic man: [proceeds to flail and try to mosh to 'civil twilight']
he eventually moved. which is good, because matt had adopted the whole irrited security guard arms crossed over chest manuever and this was his first weakerthans show, y'all, so i wanted it to be money.
which it was. i had speculated, rather hopefully, before the show that he wasn't going to play "virtue the cat explains her departure" because i didn't think it would lend itself well to a live set and really because it makes me cry like a little bitch, but of course what that meant was that he would, and he did, but it was not quite so haunting or vulnerable in its live arrangement and i managed to not be that girl. not that there's anything wrong with being that girl!
i just really love these guys so much. i mean, beyond the brilliance of the lyrics and the beauty of the music that carries them, they are so much fun, live, and engaging and greg and stephen are totally goofballs. i think you can forget, especially with some of the quieter songs, that they can actually bring the rock, and they do, and they did.
there are always a few perfect moments at every show, the little sound/sight memory bits you carry with you and come back to, the request for "maryland bridge" that gets a sideways smile that more than makes up for the fact you know he's not going to play it, the quiet before a riff. they are a lovely, magnificent bunch of fellows, and man, do they ever give good music.
stumbled back to the car around 12:45 with sore feet and a stupid smile on my face and proceeded to sleep all the way back home and now i am at the office, not really looking forward to the day but at least it is friday, and i have had my fix, and life, you know. is really not so bad.
3/14/08
tennessee's a brother to my sister carolina
traffic in milwaukee is hardly ever ridiculous. there just aren't enough people. you'd think it was, from the way the locals complain, but the reality is we don't hold a candle to any of the major urbanites who spend hours going three miles an hour while watching the hole in the ozone inch wider and wider open.
anyway, they regulate the on-ramps with traffic lights, during rush hour, and there's only ever a "carpool" lane on those ramps, around here, not in actual traffic. and the only time i ever encounter the metered lights is on the drive to the babysitter in the morning, and each and every day i have this moment of existential angst over whether or not it's ethical of me to get in said carpool lane, when the second person in the car is but a toddler. i mean, is using my son to get thirty seconds ahead in traffic, and to cut in front of that jackass who cut me off a half mile back, morally right?
whatever, clearly i need more to think about in the mornings.
bad dreams last night, back in that hospital room long ago and far away, counting breaths to beeps until there weren't any.
happier thoughts. the summer of '95, scamming our way into shows and free drinks, laying on the roof of danny's brother's car and plotting escape by jumping star to star. we pooled our money one weekend and had enough for gas to make it down to the gulf coast and back. picking cotton from the side of the road. barefoot, drinking coke out of glass bottles and listening to the waves crash. how warm they were, rolling over our feet. the water stretched out to forever and it felt like that summer did, too.
how much more detailed the escape plan was, without the light pollution of the city to muck it all up.
hard to believe that was thirteen years ago, almost, soon it'll be half a lifetime away but i suppose that's only fitting since those memories are already tinged with the rose-colored filter of nostalgia.
anyway. fast forward to present tense, and i suppose i'm still daydreaming, but maybe that's something you never really grow out of. i was in d.c. this week, but not for long enough to miss it, just the people, the way the light hits the capitol as the sun is setting, the rumble of the metro beneath your feet. okay, maybe i had time to miss it a little.
anyway, they regulate the on-ramps with traffic lights, during rush hour, and there's only ever a "carpool" lane on those ramps, around here, not in actual traffic. and the only time i ever encounter the metered lights is on the drive to the babysitter in the morning, and each and every day i have this moment of existential angst over whether or not it's ethical of me to get in said carpool lane, when the second person in the car is but a toddler. i mean, is using my son to get thirty seconds ahead in traffic, and to cut in front of that jackass who cut me off a half mile back, morally right?
whatever, clearly i need more to think about in the mornings.
bad dreams last night, back in that hospital room long ago and far away, counting breaths to beeps until there weren't any.
happier thoughts. the summer of '95, scamming our way into shows and free drinks, laying on the roof of danny's brother's car and plotting escape by jumping star to star. we pooled our money one weekend and had enough for gas to make it down to the gulf coast and back. picking cotton from the side of the road. barefoot, drinking coke out of glass bottles and listening to the waves crash. how warm they were, rolling over our feet. the water stretched out to forever and it felt like that summer did, too.
how much more detailed the escape plan was, without the light pollution of the city to muck it all up.
hard to believe that was thirteen years ago, almost, soon it'll be half a lifetime away but i suppose that's only fitting since those memories are already tinged with the rose-colored filter of nostalgia.
anyway. fast forward to present tense, and i suppose i'm still daydreaming, but maybe that's something you never really grow out of. i was in d.c. this week, but not for long enough to miss it, just the people, the way the light hits the capitol as the sun is setting, the rumble of the metro beneath your feet. okay, maybe i had time to miss it a little.
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