They say that this is where the fun begins

On Saturday I headed back to Milwaukee for my second show of the weekend, The Avett Brothers at the Riverside Theater.  The Avetts are a prime example of performers who have grown in popularity since I first saw them.  In fact, it happened in a very short period of time.  I heard Avett Brothers buzz around Emotionalism on 2007 end-of-year lists, but didn't get a chance to see them until October of last year.  That show was at the Barrymore in Madison.  Though I think it did sell out, it didn't do so until the night of the show.  Fast forward five months to Milwaukee.  The Avetts had been booked to play Turner Hall, capacity slightly higher than the Barrymore.  That venue sold out, and the show was moved to the two-and-a-half-times-larger Riverside.  Which also sold out in advance of the show.  Not bad, Avetts.

Inside the pit, we found spots up front with a great view of the stage.  The unassuming openers, The Low Anthem, impressed with their set.  Comparisons were drawn to Duluth's Low, and I could definitely hear that.  I'd like to see them in a smaller setting with less background chatter, but they did a good job with such a big place.

As mentioned above, this was only my second time seeing The Avett Brothers.  Last time, I half-assed a review of the show because I was busy, though I did enjoy it very much.  I specifically noted the infectious energy on stage, despite having been told that as Avett Brothers shows go it was a relatively tame outing.  This time, I felt even more energy from both band and crowd.  Curious, at first glance, since the Barrymore is so much smaller and more intimate than the Riverside.  Maybe it's a sign that the Avetts are truly ready to fill much bigger spaces.  The band - especially Scott Avett - took advantage of the larger stage: jumping up and down, parading along the stage's edge, even laying down a few feet from us while furiously strumming the banjo during the encore.  It may still be true that the Avetts of a few years ago were more of a spectacle, but perhaps they're ready to let their music do more of the talking.

If so, they did an admirable job.  On this tour the band has a designated drummer, allowing more instruments to blend together on songs that require it.  The majority of those are from last year's excellent I and Love and You.  Despite some more involved arrangements on these newer songs, most of the Avetts' tunes aren't overly complicated.  The word that comes to mind when I hear them is "pure."  Some are pure fun, others pure energy.  There's beauty and sadness and sweetness.  (A little goofiness sometimes, too.)  And it all comes through most clearly in the live setting.  Some of my favorite moments Saturday night came when the audience sang along loudly ... in fact, on songs like "The Perfect Space," you could say we screamed along.  In contrast, other favorite moments came when there were just one or two people on the stage, like Scott's solo turn for "Murder in the City."  My favorite song of the night was "Laundry Room," in which a quiet, almost delicate beginning becomes a full-fledged rave-up by the end.

Even before I'd seen their live show, I liked The Avett Brothers.  Each time I see them, I come away liking them more.  At this rate, even that crazy Bayfield show up north in July might become fair game.

There's no rest for the restless

My weekend of Milwaukee concerts began with a Friday night Rhett Miller show at Shank Hall.  Though I was a Shank Hall novice, I felt at home as soon as I walked in the door.  It was classic midwestern style; I could easily imagine fish fries or bingo games being held there on off nights.  The Spinal Tap theme added to the general ambiance.   

The cocktail seating in front of the small stage brought back memories of the first time I ever saw Rhett, at the Madison Music Awards in 2003.  That was a seated pit show at the Barrymore (I know; what?) and had previously marked the only time I'd ever watched Rhett or the Old 97's from a chair.  I did miss dancing during the fast songs, but there was much leg tapping and chair bouncing.  And the seats did little to diminish the crowd's singalong enthusiasm.

As typical for a solo performance, the show was a laid-back affair.  The staples were played with gusto - "Question" with the verse en français, "Rollerskate Skinny," "Time Bomb" - but Rhett also mined the back catalog for a few rarer nuggets.  He introduced one song as something he almost never plays, though people yell out for it a lot.  "Maybe they yell for it because they don't think I can play it."  The song, as it turns out, was "Ray Charles," and he certainly can play it.  It was a welcome treat, and one that surprised everyone - apparently including the guy who had requested it before the show.  Despite some jokes about the fourth wall, Rhett also honored a few more requests from the audience.  One was another tune I haven't heard much live, "St. Ignatius."  

Also as typical for a solo performance, there was some amusing banter.  Rhett shared tips on convincingly speaking a foreign language (choose an ethnic cartoon character and try to sound exactly like it).  His possibly sexist overuse of the word "girl" in lyrics was discussed, and why he's absolutely fine with that.  Friday night's performance of "Big Brown Eyes" was distinguished by Rhett pausing in the middle of the song to tell a story about the Old 97's recording with Waylon Jennings.  Let's just say I'll never hear "an elixir" the same way again.  Rhett went on to sing the entire third verse in the style of Waylon Jennings.  (Hey, he and Jon Brion should get togeth... oh, wait.)  

  All in all, Rhett played 27 songs before the night was through.  And after the performance, after changing into a non-sweaty shirt, he come out to chat with fans.  As he gamely signed shirts and ticket stubs, posed for pictures, and made friendly small talk, something occurred to me.  The majority of performers I've been seeing for more than a year or two have grown to fill bigger and bigger venues.  For many of them, informally chatting with fans at the bar after shows is but a distant memory.  Then there's the other, sadder end of that spectrum: bands who used to fill large rooms and now introduce the queen of the county fair before playing to a smattering of diehard fans and incidental observers.  But Rhett Miller and the Old 97's are playing essentially the same venues I've been seeing them in since 2003.  They haven't blown up.  They haven't gotten noticeably less popular.  If they were to suddenly sell millions of albums and start playing the Overture Center, don't get me wrong, I'd be thrilled for them.  And I know long-term consistency in audience size probably isn't something performers exactly strive for.  But I have to admit I find it comforting just the same.  

Rhett Miller Shank Hall Setlist:
Like Love 
Barrier Reef 
Won't Be Home 
Wish the Worst 
Help Me, Suzanne 
Nobody Says I Love You Anymore 
Salome 
No Baby I 
Four-Eyed Girl 
Nineteen 
If It's Not Love 
Ray Charles 
Sometimes 
Question (final verse in French) 
Designs on You 
Haphazardly 
Rollerskate Skinny (dedicated to J.D. Salinger) 
The Other Shoe 
I Need to Know Where I Stand 
Fireflies 
Dance With Me 
St. Ignatius 
Big Brown Eyes (w/Waylon Jennings story, 3rd verse in style of Waylon Jennings) 
Our Love 
------------------- 
Another Girlfriend 
Four Leaf Clover 
Time Bomb

Looking forward

I know, I'm doing it again.  I have a slight obsession with planning things ahead of time, and as a result my mind often exists a few months in the future.  Right now, in my head, it's at least April.  But given that in real life it's only the very end of February in Wisconsin ... I think I'll take it for now.

My March, April, and May should be whirlwinds of activity.  Perhaps they won't match last November, but it'll be a close call from time to time.  I was going to lay it all out here, but there's really no point - you'll hear about it as it comes.  Occupying the most space in my thoughts for the past week, though, have been two trips in particular.  I actually booked both flights on the same day, in a near-unprecedented flurry of spending.  But there's no time like the present.

Wednesday morning, I booked this one:

Maine!  Beginning of October!  It's far away now, but - barring anything unforeseen - a long-threatened long weekend will finally become a reality.

Wednesday evening, on the phone with my intrepid travel companion, I booked this one:

(Photo by jpereira.net)

Senegal.  Yes, Senegal.  Africa.  End of May.  A friend of a friend is living there, and we're going to visit her.  Unlike Maine, Senegal wasn't even on my radar until very recently.  I'm still slightly giddy about the speed with which this trip was arranged.  I mean ... holy crap.  I'm going to Africa in less than three months.  Africa!

June, July, and August are still more or less open.

Snowflakes break through the atmosphere

Saturday was a quintessential winter day in Wisconsin.  Wilco was playing the Overture Center that night, and I had big plans to make the six-hour drive to and from Michigan to attend their Sunday show as well.  Unfortunately, the weather had other ideas and I was forced to concede in the face of a snowstorm.  Lucky for me, then, that the Madison show was enough fun to tide me over for now.

Penpals: The T-shirts, Book 1

In December, I introduced The Penpals: the series of books Allison and I wrote in elementary school.  Now, as promised, I present a list of every saying I put on a t-shirt or sweatshirt in my illustrations.  Like I said, I was waaay into that as a fashion statement.  After words, I list who wore the shirt.  Because the names are half the fun.

In order of appearance in Book 1 (4th grade):

Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories: an introduction

At a recent estate sale, I found myself perusing a box of old books down a dusty basement.  The books in question were all cookbooks, and they were artfully displayed - as recommended by Elle Decor - on a sagging bed near the washing machine.  


One slim volume caught my eye.  Perhaps better described as a pamphlet than a book, I noticed it because it didn't seem to contain any recipes.  The cover read Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories (Sixth Series).  A quick glance at the first pages and translation of Roman numerals told me it had been published in 1930.  Though it would become clear that the stories originated in England, this edition was printed in the U.S.A. by The Review and Herald Publishing Association in Takoma Park, Washington, D.C.  The inside cover boasted a promisingly splendid and rather inexplicable illustration, "Jesus in the Carpenter's Shop at Nazareth."  At ten cents, clearly I had to buy it for more detailed perusal...

Typical Monday

On Monday, I just wanted to get home from work.  I'd been feeling slightly ill all day.  Early that morning I broke a fingernail, and it turns out I have no nail clippers in my purse or desk at the office.  It was a very busy day work-wise.  You know, typical Monday.


The workday finally ended.  On the way home, I made a pit stop at the local family grocery to grab a container of Cool Whip Free (which I enjoy on Jell-o.  Shut up.)  Due to the aforementioned broken nail, I was wearing one glove and holding the other as a sort of shield against the cold steering wheel.  I parked, removed the keys, had a brief debate about what to do with the glove I was holding, and decided to leave it in the car.  I grabbed my purse, got out, locked the door, and started walking toward the store.  Then I realized I was still holding my other glove after all.  Which meant ... OH HELL NO.