Sinterklaas and the Black Petes

I'm going to Amsterdam for my 30th birthday.

It's not that I buy into the hype about turning 30. Is hype the right word? Maybe not. More accurately, I'm not particularly intimidated by the idea of being 30. It's kind of a shame that I won't have a 2 in front of my age anymore, but more due to nostalgia than anything else. Plenty of my friends are over 30, and I haven't noticed anything scary happening to them. Though I have noticed that lately I derive great satisfaction from filling out any form that asks for my age. Twenty-nine! Still 29, damn it! But, in my head, I've been 30 for awhile. It's a side effect of planning everything months and months in advance.

Which brings us back to Holland. It's going to be a quick trip: my birthday is Tuesday 11/17, and I'll be back at work on Thursday. The point isn't really to see the sights. The point is to do something crazy for my birthday, because why the hell not? When a certain band announced a show in Amsterdam the day before my birthday, I was tempted. But when they announced a show an hour or so away in Eindhoven on the day itself, that decided it. A few days' vacation, and a memorable farewell to my twenties? Sign me up.

The plan is to meet up with some friends on that Saturday. In, um, Milan. Then on Sunday, P and I will fly to Amsterdam. Two awesome things are happening on Sunday about which I had no idea when this trip was booked. First of all, Andrew Bird is playing at Melkweg that night. Secondly, Sunday morning is when Sinterklaas arrives in Amsterdam on a boat from Spain, with his six to eight black men.

Hell. Yes.

Even if we don't make it to the waterfront in time for the actual arrival, I figure we'll be in time for residual merriment. And souvenirs. Oh please, let there be souvenirs.

I woke with a head full of songs

It's been another busily musical week. Between Friday and Wednesday I saw Andrew Bird, Unicycle Loves You, Liam Finn and Eliza-Jane, Tortoise and Wilco twice, Nicole Atkins, and the Avett Brothers. I think I've exhausted my ability to write coherently about concerts for the month of October, but lord, it's been fun. Here's a snapshot of the most recent shows:

Andrew Bird:
DVD filming, big song arrangements, "Headsoak," Josh on cowbell

Unicycle Loves You, Liam Finn & Eliza-Jane:
muffins-no-cupcakes jam, shiny new venue, The Beatles' "Birthday," "Cinnamon Girl"

Wilco and Tortoise, night 1:
disconcerting facial expressions, huge arena crowd, pumped-up band, plethora of photographers

Wilco and Tortoise, night 2:
looser band, singalongs, dancing fatigue, "Far, Far Away"

Nicole Atkins and The Avett Brothers:
super energy, super-loud bass, no stage barrier, broken banjo strings

Whew.

The past few days

10/8/09
Wisconsin Book Festival party. Readings by Michael Perry and Lorrie Moore (intro by Mayor Dave), and then after the signing, a nice set of music by Michael Perry and the Long Beds. I've seen Mike read on two previous occasions, but had never heard any of the pieces he read on Thursday. The Long Beds played a good, solid set of music - my favorite songs included the violin. I've said it before, but I love living in a city where a local-author book reading can come close to filling the Orpheum.


10/10/09
Liam Finn, Eliza-Jane Barnes, and Wilco in Memphis. Yes, Memphis. Saturday, free flight, good seat ... why not? I'd been obliquely promised a "fun show" last weekend, though I wasn't quite sure what that would entail. As it turned out, a lot that couldn't have been planned plus something that definitely was: Jody Stephens of Big Star jumping in on shaker and drums, and a jaw-dropping cover of Big Star's "In the Street." There was a period of time a few years ago when Wilco played cover songs with some regularity, but I hadn't seen it in so long I forgot it was possible. That, along with the non-acoustic live debut of "Country Disappeared," made for a memorable show.


I haven't even mentioned Liam and EJ's set. At their show in Madison, I was thrilled when they played one of two songs I hadn't seen yet and especially wanted to. In Memphis they played the other, "Red Wine Bottle." As a bonus, Glenn came out to play drums with them. As if that weren't cool enough, afterward there was a brief conference on the stage and Glenn stuck around for a blistering rendition of Neil Young's "Cinnamon Girl." All that, plus Liam and EJ played a brand new song. I'm getting spoiled.


Beyond the main event, I did have a bit of time for Memphis itself on Saturday. I didn't get in early enough for any major tours, but did make it to Gus's Famous Fried Chicken for a very late lunch. (I had a slice of chess pie for dessert, and I still don't know what the hell chess pie is.) I also visited the Gibson Guitar Factory, wandered around Beale Street, and explored A. Schwab. The $1 pacifiers from Thailand were tempting, but I left empty-handed. I also caught a free performance at the Pepsi Pavilion off of Beale. No idea who was playing, but the vibe was happy and pleasantly buzzed. Oh, Beale Street and your open container laws.


We'd had the best of intentions to go see Norton Wisdom paint with some great musicians at the Poplar Lounge after the show, an event which we were assured had every chance of going strong until 4:30 a.m. (a.k.a. the time we had to leave for the airport.) By the time we left the Orpheum it was nearly 1:00, though, and we had to take a rain check or risk keeling over. Instead I got an hour or two of sleep before the flights back home. I couldn't afford to be totally dead the next day because...

10/11/09
Bon Iver in Milwaukee, with The Daredevil Christopher Wright opening. As this show was to be Bon Iver's last for an indefinite amount of time, I was thankful for the opportunity to attend. Sitting in the midst of a sold-out crowd at the Riverside felt different from standing against the stage at the Barrymore in Madison last December ... which itself, I'm sure, was a change from the Milwaukee show Bon Iver played in support of For Emma less than two years ago at Mad Planet. Less than two years, and so many accomplishments. So many new fans. Still, when Justin sat alone on the stage to play "Re: Stacks" - toward the end when he pulls back from the microphone a bit and everyone leans a little closer - the room felt very small. But when the crowd sang along at the top of its collective lungs with "Wolves," screaming over the final instrumental frenzy, the sound filled every inch of the theater's expansive size - and joyously so.

Energy spent

I started October out with a bang this year (at first I mistyped "with a band;" also accurate): four shows in four nights, from Iowa to Minnesota and back home to Wisconsin. Along the way there was pie, a runners' expo, overpriced beverages, Dillinger-related local history, and a dash of Beatles Rock Band. But the emphasis was on concerts.

Thursday and Friday I saw Wilco with openers Liam Finn and Eliza-Jane Barnes. This is pretty much my dream lineup right now, and I couldn't believe the good timing of the midwestern shows. Saturday was A Prairie Home Companion, fascinating to see live. My favorite aspect was watching the sound effects guy work his magic. Garrison Keillor spinning the Lake Wobegone tale without a script in front of him was unexpected and cool, as was Nels Cline joining the PHC band in a rendition of "Hound Dog." Sunday it was back home for Liam and EJ headlining a show at the Majestic right here in Madison.

As much as I love Wilco, the Liam/EJ performances had me the most excited for this stretch of shows. They didn't disappoint, although I hadn't anticipated such a sparse turnout in my own city. That gave Sunday a markedly different flavor from the opening sets in front of thousands Thursday and Friday. Liam and EJ appeared to have a fine time, and took the opportunity to do some things that work well in an intimate setting. But it simply didn't feel the same as being in the midst of a large group of people experiencing the show together. I enjoyed it, but not in the visceral way I enjoyed the previous two opening sets. I can't imagine the performers didn't share a bit of that sentiment, even if they didn't show it. Then again, I'm not a seasoned musician - who knows?

Big crowd or small, the show was a good one. We heard almost all of the songs from Iowa City and St. Paul, plus a few more. They closed with "Honest Face," one of two I'd been hoping to see for the first time. EJ had seen something on Wisconsin Public Television about Sunday night's harvest moon, inspiring Liam to play Neil Young's "Harvest Moon." That was a treat. Liam had also stumbled upon Madison's Harvest Fest this weekend and invited some folks he met there to the show: a bongo player and friends, including a freestyle rapper. They joined Liam and EJ for an improvised jam before the main set finale. That was certainly something I don't see every day. (All in all, that's probably a good thing.)

After the show, Liam and EJ hung around for a bit. Some people had driven quite a distance to see them (not that I'd know anything about that!) and it was nice to see that they're accessible to their fans. Paul mentioned August's 7WC show to Liam, and he asked if we'd seen the bottle solo. Affirmative! I'm looking forward to next Saturday, which may be my last chance to see Liam and EJ for the foreseeable future. I wish they weren't playing in Chicago the same night as Andrew Bird at the Pabst. Choices: blerg.

Setlist for Sunday (courtesy of Paul)
Plane Crash
Long Way To Go
Wide Awake On The Voyage Home
Remember When
Better To Be
Harvest Moon [Neil Young]
Energy Spent
On Your Side
I'll Be Lightning
Wise Man>
Second Chance
—"freestyle" improv interlude (w/guest freestyle rapper and Juan on bongos)—
Lead Balloon (w/Juan on bongos)
Gather To The Chapel
Honest Face

September draws to a close

Every year around this time, I think, "Maybe winter won't be that bad. Maybe it will barely snow at all." We know how that's worked out between 2007 and the present. Still, maybe this is the year.

My mom heard from a cousin of my dad's looking for family history info this weekend. She shared a few anecdotes about my great-grandmother. (The mother of these boys, as a matter of fact.) Yia Yia came over from Greece at the age of sixteen as a mail-order bride, which I knew. She had a gift for prophetic dreams, which I didn't know. A gift she passed on to my great-uncle Pete. Yia Yia begged my grandma and grandpa not to name their daughter after her, because she was superstitious. They did anyway. (That daughter was my aunt Ginnie, who died at the age of two from spinal meningitis.) Yia Yia also once had some sort of witch-woman lift a curse she was sure had been placed on her. I need more Yia Yia stories.

The other day I was thinking of how we pronounce the word "color." What is wrong with our language?

I have tickets for twelve concerts in October. This is both exciting and terrifying.

FMF09

During Saturday night's Andrew Bird show, I realized how many "wait, did he just say that?" moments there are on Noble Beast. Did he just mention a onesie? Did he just say something about kittens with pleurisy? Yes, he did. Plus a new/old song that gave a particular sort of clarity to the consumption of sweetbreads. The taste of neurons firing, indeed.

Andrew was the official headliner of Madison's Forward Music Festival, playing at the Overture Center. My evening began at a different venue, as I chose to forego the opening Pale Young Gentlemen in favor of the seeing Pronto (and Filligar, as it turned out) at the Frequency. In the time between the announcement of the FMF09 lineup and the publication of the schedule, I knew there were two acts I was most interested in seeing. And of course, both wound up scheduled for Saturday night. Luckily, the Overture and Frequency are a few minutes' dash apart, but I was still bummed not to catch all of Pronto's set.

Pronto played very well, and should have had a bigger audience. I loved seeing what the full band added to the live performance of the All is Golden tunes. "Monster" had a different sound, less bouncy. The energetic ending to "Say it All Night" was a pleasant surprise. The band looked comfortable on the small stage, though it was a bit of a contrast to Mikael Jorgensen's usual gig. I hope Madison gets another chance to host Pronto, whether in this configuration or another. A full performance of The Cheetah (complete with video!) would be something to see.

As always, Andrew Bird came through with a solid and slightly otherworldly performance. Between banter about Wisconsin's bike trails and Land Striders from The Dark Crystal, the full-band songs stood out. We heard many songs from Noble Beast, a new song incorporating the sinkings of the Lusitania and Main, and a handful of older favorites. The closing number was definitely a favorite of mine - the Handsome Family's "Don't Be Scared." The first time I heard it (with Sally Timms supplying background vocals) I was so happy I nearly cried. This time my reaction wasn't quite so dramatic, but it was a powerful ending to the show. See you in Milwaukee next month, Andrew.

All that you can't leave behind

Before Saturday night in Chicago, it had been four years since I saw U2. But it had been eight years since I saw U2 from anywhere besides the floor, as close to the stage as possible. This time around, Alison and I opted for seats instead of GA. I looked forward to the show, but wasn't sure if I'd truly be able to get into it. I never see bands in stadiums. I'm never 90 yards away from the performers. My first U2 show in 1997 was at Soldier Field, in seats very similar to those we had Saturday. I had a wonderful time that night, but it was one of my first concerts ever. I'm familiar with U2's ability to charm a huge crowd, but was skeptical of my own susceptibility in this environment. Wasn't I a seasoned concert veteran? Used to the front of intimate venues? Smaller, more down-to-earth bands? My era of rabid U2 fandom years behind me?

Those things are all true. They also don't matter. I had forgotten that a U2 show is a wholly different entity. The last shows I saw were Neil Finn and Jon Brion from the front of a 280-seat theater. Thinking I wouldn't appreciate Saturday night at Soldier Field in comparison, as it turns out, made as much sense as assuming I wouldn't enjoy chocolate ice cream because garlic naan is so great. One has nothing to do with the other.

I hadn't read much about the setlists for the European leg of the U2 360 tour, or about the stage setup. In person, the sheer size, scale, and spectacle were amazing. The screens were unlike anything I'd ever seen, and the tour makes stunning use of lights and visual effects. It all enhanced the show rather than distracting the audience, which can be a difficult line to tread. Of course, simply being present in a stadium with tens of thousands of fans is amazing in itself. Bono doesn't really play to the front of the crowd - I know this from being there myself. Bono plays to the camera; to the back corners of the 400 section. Bono plays to the stadium.

Saturday's setlist was heavy on the new album, as it should be. There were definitely songs I'd have rather heard, but this isn't a Greatest Hits tour. I could have done without the most unfortunate lyrics of my least favorite song scrolling along the screen for a singalong, but you can't win them all. "Breathe" as an opener was great, and Larry coming out by himself to start was a nice touch. The acoustic "Stuck in a Moment" was excellent with just Bono and Edge on stage, somehow working perfectly in a huge space that no longer seemed quite so big. I was in turn confused, surprised, amused and delighted when Bono wove some lines from Wilco's "Far Far Away" into the intro to "Beautiful Day." Also surprising was "The Unforgettable Fire." I'd never seen it played, and judging from the people around me, neither had many younger members of the crowd. Nor had they ever heard the song before, at all. Of course, Bono did choose to skip over a decent portion of the lyrics. I'll chalk that up to "new arrangement," but the song was still a welcome inclusion.

My highlight of the show came in the encore. Bono took the stage in a suit dotted with red lights, shining out into the stadium. A swinging microphone, also covered in lights, lowered to meet him. "Sometimes I feel like I don't know, sometimes I feel like checking out..." After all this time, "Ultra Violet." One of my favorite songs on Achtung Baby, which means one of my favorite songs in the world. I can't say it was a song I'd been hoping to hear, because the idea never occurred to me. But if I'd thought of it, I would have been hoping. It was perfect.

The show made me realize that my experience of a U2 concert isn't really about U2. It's mostly about me. Maybe that's true of anybody's experience of anything, if you want to get philosophical. I have so many memories wrapped up in these songs, this scene, this band. They're all the more powerful for the long gaps between tours, and the fact that I rarely listen to the albums these days. For two hours, the stadium is a time machine. Bono sings "Stand By Me" at Soldier Field in 2009 and I'm at Soldier Field in 1997, Lindsey and Michelle by my side, as he sings the same lines. "The Unforgettable Fire" begins and I'm on a road trip with my parents, headphones on in the back seat, listening to that album over and over/watching the video with Gina, in college, laughing as the wheels fly and colors spin. The verses of "One" take me to Germany, visiting Michelle, gazing at the remains of the Berlin Wall. The band plays "Ultra Violet" and I'm in high school again, brimming with teenage resentment and perfect-student stress, screaming "I wanna get it wrong" at the top of my lungs in my car/in my bedroom/in a stadium with 60,000 people.

Looking back on U2's Vertigo tour, I was too recently removed from my U2 super-fandom to have much perspective. I think it was too soon after the preceding Elevation tour - which completely changed the way I thought about live music - to fully separate the two. I enjoyed the shows, but things were different than they had been. I felt the high school freshman's smugness about how I'd moved on. This time, it's been long enough. Seeing U2 again felt like going home. Like visiting the place where I grew up after having been away for a long time. Maybe I don't want to live there anymore, but everything is right where I left it. I can go back. I can stay awhile.