A Trouble-Free Evening

We have a new vinyl store four blocks from my house and I decided to start my evening there because they were having a Joanna Newsom listening party.

Walking by the nearby barbershop, the three guys out front bid me good evening, but they weren't looking me in the eye. "You're looking at my tights, aren't you?" I teased them. One grinned and asked, "What kind of trouble you planing to get in to tonight with those on?"

I told him I hadn't decided yet, that the evening was young. I was wearing the Berlin tights, the ones pictured in my blog profile, the ones that always get comments. They sure know how to make tights in Berlin is all I'm saying.

Inside Steady Sounds, I enjoyed an unexpected trip down memory lane by starting with their older vinyl rather than the new stuff I'd actually be listening to.

Some of the records I saw were an absolute blast from the past, reminding me of people and experiences I hadn't thought about since I was listening to that stuff. I grinned, I laughed out loud; I was having a great time listening and looking.

The unexpected pleasure of it all was happening on several albums that will thrill a friend when I present them to him for Christmas. Miles Davis' Birth of the Cool was probably the best find, but several other jazz fusion titles will definitely score points. Thanks, Joanna.

When I passed by the barbershop leaving, one guy tipped his hat and told me, "Be safe tonight." That was my plan.

From there I went down to Sam Miller's, not a place I frequent, to meet a friend, an acquaintance (last night's Native Virginian) and two strangers. The place was mobbed, they had a duo playing live and there wasn't a seat left at the bar so we took a table in the back.

The strangers were associates of the NV so there was much good-natured ribbing among them, but also satisfying talk of Shakespeare (I got asked to an upcoming performance), church-going (thanks, I'd rather not) and, surprise, music. As for food, the table was laden with sliders, mini-crabcakes and 75-cent oysters. Not a bad happy hour sampling.

The music talk paid off because one of the guys had somewhat similar enough taste to mine to make for some good chatting, despite his passion for Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd (I try not to judge but it's difficult).

Best of all, he told me about an upcoming show in an unlikely location that I probably wouldn't have heard about otherwise. And this is why I talk music with strangers.

The male contingent wanted us to join them for dinner, but I had music plans. Sprout was hosting a show called "We, the Bearded" featuring Aquariums (from Tennessee), Nick Woods (of Orioles) and one of my favorite local collectives, the Colloquial Orchestra.

The C.O. billed this show as "100% less amps and 100% more accordion and harmonica"; this was a nod to the inclusion of Jonathan Vassar, the hands and lungs behind those two additions.

Nick played first and he was mid-song with his eyes closed when I took my seat. When he finished that song, he opened his eyes, noticed us newcomers and said, "It got more crowded while my eyes were closed."

Playing a new song, he ended it with, "Where did that come from?" after playing an unplanned C-chord. The audience certainly didn't have any idea. Favorite lyric: "I need a partner in crime." Close second: "I wanted this bridge to sound like Nirvana Unplugged."

Martin of Aquariums played next, explaining that his songs were usually performed with a full band, so we were hearing just the heart of the songs.

He boasted of having recently written two songs before noon and rewarding himself with a Mexican lunch. "Four margaritas and two beers. Then I took a nap." Favorite lyric: "A peck on the lips with a new love, more beautiful yet than your love."

Last up were the multi-talented Dave Watkins and his revolving crew, commonly known as the Colloquial Orchestra. He explained that there is always one practice session for a C.O. show, at which they decide who's playing what instrument and what music they'll play.

Dave then said, "At Sunday's rehearsal, Jonathan had a great song. We're not going to play that." What they did play was dulcitar, psaltery ( a triangular member of the harp/zither family and played with a bow), ukulele, accordion and harmonicas, resulting in beautiful music. Vocals were limited, although Jonathan's dulcet tones did show up during a few of the pieces.

The last time I'd seen the C.O., here, they were loud, electric, huge-sounding and, be still my heart, so post-rock sounding that I gushed to them afterwards in appreciation for the set I'd just heard.

Tonight's set was the complete opposite, quiet, unamplified, but still huge sounding in the acoustic soundscapes they were creating. It would have been dangerously close to acoustic post-rock if such a thing existed. And, yes, I gushed to them afterwards (but not until I'd had a teachable moment on the psaltery), but I think they're used to that.

Walking down Morris Street toward my car, I passed a trio, one of whom said hi and then, "I like your tights! A lot!"

That's the kind of trouble I got into with the Berlin tights tonight. The guys in front of the barbershop had nothing to worry about.