Every night is Friday night

Last time I saw the Old 97's was in Grand Rapids in 2009. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy the show, but it didn't quite click with me the way 97's shows used to. There was a weird vibe in the crowd, and a fight broke out, which didn't help. I described the show afterward as "good, solid fun," and that was the truth. But dependable, "solid" fun wasn't enough to lure me to an out-of-town show Old 97's over the next year and a half. A Friday night show at the Barrymore, however, I couldn't turn down - even at the end of a busy, tiring week. Nothing wrong with a dependable good time, right? Well, as it turned out, I wouldn't describe the April 1st show as "good, solid fun." I'd lean more towards "really awesome."

Teddy Thompson opened the concert. Everything I knew about Teddy, I learned from people standing near me before the show. There were a couple of very excited college girls there, one of whom had seen Teddy in Madison before and fallen in love with him. She was open to hearing the Old 97's, but knew little about them - Teddy was her reason for attending. (She said she assumed most of the other girls were there to see "Bret Michaels." Ha!) An older gentleman mentioned that Teddy had famous parents, though he couldn't think of their names offhand. This tipped me off that Teddy must be Richard and Linda Thompson's son, but at first I thought I was mistaken - the pleasant country drawl of his songs made it sound like he'd come straight up from Texas. However, his stage banter - very dry and amusing - left no doubt as to his Britishness. Most of his songs were pretty straightforward country, but not hackneyed or "Nashville." The most pleasant surprise for me was his eerily spot-on cover of Del Shannon's "Runaway." Be it covers or originals, I'd be interested in hearing more from Mr. Thompson in the future.

Soon enough the lights dimmed again, and out came the Old 97's. They began with the title track of their latest record, "The Grand Theatre." Maybe I was just in the mood for some small-venue rock and roll - it's been awhile. Everyone near me up front was dancing and singing, fueled by alcohol but not completely wasted. The band followed "Grand Theatre" with "The Fool," and then Rhett got up on Philip's drum riser, leapt off, and launched into ... "Timebomb." Which was odd, because I seemed to recall that being a traditional closer. No matter; people were pogoing and shouting as if they'd been working up to it all night. When the song was over, the band said good night and left the stage. The house music came on.

April Fool! I don't think anyone was actually fooled, but it was pretty funny nonetheless. The band returned after a minute or two, Murry commented on the fact that only a single cup had been thrown onto the stage, and they resumed the show. And it was a hell of a show. The energy level had definitely gone up after the "closer," and for the most part stayed there for the rest of the night. The 97's played a long first set, including a bonus internet request: one of my favorites, "Wish the Worst." They also played a song I'm pretty sure I've never heard live before, certainly not from the full band: "Cryin' Drunk." I couldn't help thinking of a certain hateful governor when Rhett sang lyrics like, "Walker says you're a cancer." Speaking of Walker, Rhett affixed a pro-union button to one of his guitar straps early in the night, and later said that he's a union member and stands with the people of Wisconsin. It was nice to hear.

The first set ended on a hardcore rock 'n' roll high note, after Rhett gave himself a fat lip with the microphone and spit blood all over the stage during "Four Leaf Clover." He also bloodied his setlist, which was promptly stolen by a crazy male fan during the break. When Rhett came back out, he asked who had the setlist. As the crowd pointed to the busted fan, Rhett quipped, "You might want to get that tested."

Standing near me during the show was an 11-year-old girl, attending her first concert. She seemed to have an excellent time. Rhett made sure to say hello to her, and later asked her name when he stooped for a drink. When he came out to play a couple of acoustic songs at the start of the encore, he asked if there were any tracks from his solo records she'd like to hear. When she shook her head no, he joked, "Oh, you don't like those." Her mother explained that she was a new fan, but she's learning. (The girl did thank him for asking, which was very polite.) Rhett ended up playing "Come Around" and "Need to Know Where I Stand." He explained that he'd begun the latter in California many years ago, but it never quite went anywhere ... until one night, when he was sitting backstage right here at the Barrymore Theater, and he suddenly realized how to make it into a song. A rendition of the always-lovely "Valentine" by Murry, with Rhett on backing vocals, rounded out the acoustic portion of the night, and the band came back on for four more songs - making it a total of twenty-nine on the evening.

I'd been wondering how they were going to close the show, since they'd already played "Timebomb" and "Four Leaf Clover." The answer was ... "Timebomb!" Again! The second round was even better. By the time the band left the stage, they'd given me a much more exhilarating Friday night than I'd bargained for. It turns out that I don't always know what I'll get from an Old 97's show after all, and I couldn't be happier about it.

Setlist:
The Grand Theatre
The Fool
Timebomb
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Champaign, Illinois
W. TX Teardrops
Let the Whiskey Take the Reins
The New Kid
Buick City Complex
Mama Tried
Please Hold on While the Train is Moving
Doreen
Wish the Worst
Question
Designs on You
You Were Born to Be in Battle
Here's to the Halcyon
Cryin' Drunk
A State of Texas
Smokers
Every Night is Friday Night (Without You)
Won't Be Home
Four Leaf Clover
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Come Around (Rhett solo)
I Need to Know Where I Stand (Rhett solo)
Valentine (Murry and Rhett)
Dance With Me
Big Brown Eyes
Murder (or a Heart Attack)
Timebomb

So flattered by fate

It's the end of the first quarter of 2011, and I finally got to see some Jeff Tweedy shows! On a short tour that hit just six cities, two of Jeff's stops were Madison and Iowa City. Clearly I was in for the short drive downtown on Monday, and Iowa City fell just within my reasonable weeknight range. Well, "reasonable." You know how I do.

Madison and Iowa City ended up being very different shows. Madison was a little longer, and a little more ... in control. Which is somewhat ironic, because there were probably a few more more disruptive folks, if we're talking sheer numbers, at the Capitol Theater. At one point toward the end of the night in Madison, Jeff started to strum "Be Not So Fearful" in response to a shouted request, but was completely drowned out by other requests and actually gave up. In Iowa City, however, the show was all but taken over for awhile by one particularly loud and insistent disruptive girl (who at one point squawked that she was the daughter of the mayor of Cedar Rapids), in addition to plenty of beer bottle clinking and some random comments and mysterious ripples of laughter. None of this meant that either show was bad, and I think Jeff has been handling the unpredictable nature of audiences better and better.  It's just that, like it or not, the audience can shape the show. Mostly-ruly Madison got a few more songs, as well as more singalongs and general crowd participation. Iowa City got some extended exchanges with certain audience members, and a pointed dedication of "So Much Wine" by the Handsome Family.

Not only was "So Much Wine" a fitting dedication for the mayor's daughter, it was also one of many musical highlights of the two shows. A new song, "Born Alone," was played in Madison and in Iowa City and is already stuck in my head. I loved hearing "In a Future Age" and "Airline to Heaven" in Iowa, and "Candyfloss" and "Pieholden Suite" in Madison. "Not for the Season" (or "Laminated Cat," if you prefer) was played both nights as well. Jeff mentioned in Iowa City that Nels gets credit for a lot of the guitar parts Jeff actually performed on albums, much to Nels's discomfort. "Loved your work on A Ghost is Born, Nels!" And Jeff's new(?) ivory resonator guitar proved perfectly suited for a duo of off-mic show closers.

These shows plunged me full-tilt into the spring concert season in Madison, Milwaukee, and Chicago. I've got another show tomorrow, then the Wisconsin Film Festival this weekend, another show Tuesday, a show the following Monday, and then Friday and Saturday and maybe Sunday, and then Tuesday, and then the next Saturday and Sunday, and then that Tuesday, then maybe Friday, and then the next week Saturday and Sunday, and then I have a work trip and suddenly it's mid-May. I feel a bit like I'm in a roller coaster car that's just begun its trip down the first big hill, gaining momentum. Too late to get off!

I know a place

Many months ago, when we first read about Mavis Staples playing at the Oneida Casino in Green Bay, Tamala, Rob and I had the same reaction: really? Given the places she's been appearing lately, plus her recent Grammy and NAACP Image awards, it seemed too good to be true. When we figured out that the show was in the Oneida Lounge and free, well, that seemed way too good to be true. But we were definitely going to Green Bay Sunday night, on the off chance it wasn't.

As you've probably guessed, it was true. The lounge was a small area just off the main casino floor, with tables on platforms behind a semicircular bar. The bar seats offered the best view of the stage, which was directly behind the bar. And at every bar seat? A Keno/video poker screen. The catch, as we learned, was that to keep one's priority seat at the bar, one had to be playing. With $2.50 drinks and 5-cent poker credits, this wasn't exactly a hardship, but it did make for one of the strangest concert experiences I've ever had. I don't think anyone was paying much attention once the music started, but we still found ourselves guiltily dealing or betting during song breaks.

Mavis and her band were fantastic. We had our doubts about the atmosphere, but a crowd gathered behind the bar and at the tables, loudly cheering and applauding for every song. Even though we hadn't expected more than an hour or so of music with two more nights ahead for the band, we got a full concert on Sunday. Mavis was chatty - she even confessed to cheering for the Packers during the Super Bowl (as long as nobody was looking). The songs sounded great, highlights including "You Are Not Alone," "I Belong to the Band," and the classic "I'll Take You There." And after the show, we got a chance to chat with Mavis and many of the band members in the lounge. Rob was able to return for Tuesday night's show, but I'm glad I at least got to see Sunday. Green Bay isn't much farther away than Chicago ... maybe I should keep a closer eye on the Oneida calendar.

March forth

I hate winter - vastly preferring summer in the battle of Extreme Seasons - but I have a sneaking suspicion that deep down, I actually enjoy winter for the sake of this time of year. It's not spring yet, but I can feel it coming. And when spring comes to Wisconsin, I feel more than relief at the end of winter. It's a sense of triumph, that another winter has been vanquished. We won, damn it! I see winter as a foe, but if it were never below zero and blizzarding outside, I wouldn't be this giddy at the melting of snow and warmer breezes. I've been feeling sluggish lately, and I'm hoping the advent of spring will give me a jolt of energy. So why wait until the end of the month? On March 1st I abandoned my winter coat for a spring jacket, because eff you, winter. There's only a week until Daylight Saving time begins.

Of course, at this time of year I'm also full of spring and summer ambition.  I'll go up north!  I'll go camping!  I'll take walks at Conservation Park every week!  I'll swim in Goose Lake!  Mini road trips! Brewers games!  I tend to forget that summer no longer means I'm on vacation.  But hey, might as well start out with the best of intentions.  

We all wanna change the world

Most people are probably aware of the protests that have been going on for a week now in Madison, over Governor Scott Walker's "budget" bill.  My mom has worked in Wisconsin public schools for more than twenty-five years, so I don't think I need to explain where my support lies.  I've had friends out there daily, marching and holding up signs in support of our state's workers and unions.  On Saturday I went downtown to take part myself, thinking it would be interesting to see everything firsthand.  Well, it was more than interesting.  It was amazing.

It might seem odd considering what's at stake, but the mood around the capitol was overwhelmingly upbeat.  I think people understand that no matter what happens, the very act of coming together in support of something they truly believe is vitally important.  One sign I saw said it well: "You can take my money, but you can't take my voice!"  Everybody was polite.  More polite and friendly than your typical Saturday on State Street, for sure.  Considerate of people crossing the streets, of everyone in the crowd.  There was a union-sponsored van set up on Wisconsin Ave with a grill, handing out free brats to a long line of people.  There was free bottled water there.  I saw another man set up on a bench on the square, making peanut butter & jelly sandwiches for anybody who wanted one.  Ian's Pizza on State Street has set up an online system for people to buy pizza for the protesters on the square, and they've been selling out.   

Folks were handing out signs printed up by WEAC, and thousands of people had their own homemade signs.  Some mentioned where the protesters came from ... Wauwatosa, Kenosha, Minnesota, even Mississippi.  And there were so many families.  Speakers were set up along the square, playing a sort of protest mix ... the Beatles' "Revolution," "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley, Michael Jackson's "Man in the Mirror."  Some of the marchers had drums and tambourines.  There were lines of Union cabs driving around a block away, honking and waving, to mass cheers from the crowd.  Many cars honking on Dayton as they drove past.  For a few minutes I stood near firemen who were waving flags.  The many police officers around were relaxed and friendly.  They seemed more like spectators. 

Sixty thousand people congregated downtown on Saturday - from both sides, although anti-Walker protesters far outnumbered supporters - and no arrests were made.  Nobody was injured.  The Madison Police department actually issued a statement in praise of the crowd.  That's incredible to me.  Even if I'm ashamed of our governor, I'm so proud of Wisconsin right now.

A panoply of song

Though I realized it just days ago, I didn't see the Decemberists in 2010.  They weren't touring anywhere in my vicinity, but the fact remains that 2010 was the first year post-2003 that I failed to see them at least once.  It felt good, then, to be able to open my 2011 concert season with a Decemberists show at the Riverside in Milwaukee.  (I don't know if Mamma Mia! last weekend counted as a first concert.)

After a brisk wait in line and a pretty set by Mountain Man (a band that, interestingly, contains no men), we were ready for the main act.  The Decemberists opened with "Leslie Anne Levine" from Castaways and Cutouts, and we were off.  Nothing like a song narrated by a dead girl to get things started right!  There were more trademark vivid narratives to come, but many of my favorite songs of the night were from The King is Dead.  The new album came out a few weeks ago, and I like it more with each listen.  "Rise to Me" and "June Hymn" were particularly lovely at the Riverside.

Despite the prevalence of newer, more understated material, the show wasn't short on band theatrics.  Chris Funk, John Moen, and tour guest Sara Watkins took to the house as the Decemberists Family Players during "A Cautionary Song," acting out three tableaux of Colin's choosing: the signing of the Declaration of Independence, the sinking of the Titanic, and the Roman Polanski scandal.  Colin handed Chris Funk's flask to a kid in the front row.  The band collectively perished on stage, with much flopping, after everyone got eaten by the whale in "The Mariner's Revenge Song."  I'm not the biggest fan of that tune on Picaresque, but I definitely get its appeal in the live setting.  We even got a verse and chorus of "In the Air Tonight," by Phil Collins.

All of the above and more made for an excellent show, but the best moment of the night for me came when Colin said the following words: "We're gonna play a song about San Francisco."  For years now - six, to be exact - I've hoped to hear "Grace Cathedral Hill" in concert.  Not living in the Bay Area, the pickings are slim.  They played it the first time I saw the band in 2004, but I longed to hear it again.  This was the state of things on Friday evening, when I happened to check Twitter just as Colin solicited requests for that night's Chicago concert.  I took a chance on a request for Milwaukee instead, hoping a mention of last hearing the song at Luther's Blues in '04 might help my case.  I'll probably never know if my request had anything to do with it ... but I do know that on Saturday night the Decemberists played "Grace Cathedral Hill," with plenty of pedal steel, and it was gorgeous.

I drove back home early Sunday morning with a guitar pick in my pocket and songs swirling around in my head.  And the next night, the Packers won the Super Bowl.  Banner weekend in Wisconsin!  The Decemberists announced today that they'll be back at the Overture Center in April.  Me too.

Setlist (as displayed by Matt):

Drug awareness

One of my sisters is now a PTA member at the elementary school all three of us attended as children.  Her sons, my nephews, go to school there.  Sometime last year, the association cleaned out a storage cache dating back to the school's days under its original name, Sunnyside.  There were photos, letters, programs, and scrapbooks from as early as the 1950's ... and nobody wanted them.  Some of the items eventually made their way to the school district's headquarters, but my sister rescued things that otherwise would have been thrown out.

The page above came from a scrapbook from the late 70's or early 80's.  Look, pictures from a drug awareness program! I remember attending those at school.  See, there are some teachers speaking, probably about the evils of drug abuse.  There's a police officer, perhaps explaining the legal ramifications, or what to do if a bad man should ever offer you drugs.  And ...

Wait wait wait wait wait.

There's an interactive table of pipes and bongs?  And Mrs. Zieth is explaining their uses? I so don't remember this from the drug awareness programs when I was in elementary school.  Look at the little kids, eyes alight with interest, exploring the fascinating items on the table.  How come we never got a pipe and bong demonstration?

I think my favorite part is that this photo was actually taken, selected for the scrapbook, pasted down, and carefully captioned.