So Long, Farewell

Once you've touched the lead singer's sweaty chest, it's hard to go back in the hot room.

Tonight was the going away party for Sprout, the restaurant/venue that went out of business yesterday.

For their last hurrah, they invited something like fourteen bands to perform beginning at 5:00. And in true RVA fashion, the first band didn't start till after 6:00.

Not that it mattered.

The late start gave us early arrivals time to mingle and remember the many shows we'd seen at Sprout.

A good part of the restaurant's CD collection was available for the taking.

Band photographer PJ Sykes pulled a half dozen out of the pile and handed them to me. "You need these," he said. I believed him.

When the music finally started, the small crowd all moved into the back room to hear Miss Bliss (apparently a TV reference, so I didn't get it).

The duo of guitarist/singer Allison Apperson and drummer Noell Alexander played psychedelic surf pop with, wait for it, kazoo solos.

They closed with a cover of the Drifters' "Up on the Roof," dedicating it to Spout and the Fourth of July.

During the break, I wandered out and ran into Coffee Guy and helped owner Laurie remove tea lights from punch cups.

Shannon Cleary played next with violinist Joon Kim backing him up on violin, making for a fuller sound than usual.

Shannon covered an Itchy Hearts song as well as doing a particularly lovely "On the Way Home" by the late Nathan Joyce.

Taking the stage quickly, Ben Shepherd placed his bottle of Beaujolais to the side, strapped on his guitar and jumped right in.

Ben's a strong songwriter; for the first song, my friend jumped up announcing, "I have to give my full attention to this song. It's so well done, written from two points of view."

He's got a strong, clear voice, too, and his pulls on the Beaujolais bottle didn't seem to affect that.

An audience member called out for "Silver Dog" and he closed with it.

The set up for the next band was going to take a few minutes, so everyone moved into the main dining room where Josh Bearman of the Hot Seats did an acoustic set.

I was smart enough to return to the back room and stake out my territory for Snowy Owls' set next.

Feel free to call me a Snowy Owls groupie; I love their reverb-soaked sound, distinctive bass lines and Matt's nu-gaze vocals.

I planted myself on the back of one of the benches so I was higher than everyone in the room despite being in the back.

It's a rare treat for someone 5'5" to look down at a crowd, so I savored it, letting the sound of music from a cave wash over me.

A definite highlight besides the music was hearing a musician friend acknowledge that Snowy Owls rocked way more than he remembered.

He'd been under the impression that since leader Matt is also in the folky Low Branches that Snowy Owls was similar. Now he knows better.

Just as I knew better than to leave my perch when the next band up was Baby Help Me Forget. The crowd began to migrate from the outside and other room and I held fast atop the bench.

No matter how many times I see these guys, I'm always eager to see them again.

The band is high energy and lead singer (and Sprout co-owner) Jamie is the best showman in town.

He joined the band tonight by jumping down from atop the pallet wall that separates the kitchen to the floor in front of the stage.

Laurie sat atop the wall moving and grooving, silhouetted from behind.

Dressed in tight white pants, a patterned shirt, chain belt and velveteen blazer, Jamie looked every inch the part as he danced, gyrated, dropped to his knees and generally tore it up.

The blazer came off after the first few songs.

His non-stop movements, jumping from the stage to the floor, singing on his knees and dancing amongst the crowd whipped up everyone in the room to a frenzy.

Jamie tried to say a few words about the occasion, but summed it up with, "F**king Sprout! That's all I'm going to say!" It was enough.

The shirt came off after a few more songs, tossed into the audience.

Everyone was moving non-stop and the room heated up quickly. But the energy was amazing.

When the band finished, the crowd applauded and demanded more. Despite cords already wound and instruments half put away, the band obliged.

No one tonight, no how, no way, was going to top what we had just experienced. I said as much to the girl sitting next to me.

The mass of humanity that was the audience began to exit the room then, looking for air to breathe although out in front was a cloud of cigarette smoke.

Chatting as I waited to get outside, Jamie came by, his shirt now back on. He greeted me and I teased him by asking if I could touch his sweat.

I asked for the sake of giving him a hard time about his exuberant performance, but he just grinned and said, "Gross!" as I touched him.

Standing outside talking to people, I heard the list of bands for the rest of the evening. Four more (three of which I've seen) followed by four noise bands.

The band that was about to start was an hour and a half behind schedule with seven more after them.

And I'd given up my prime real estate in the back room by coming outside.

Nothing was going to exceed the emotional peak I'd just witnessed. I wasn't going to touch anyone else's sweaty chest tonight.

Sprout, you will be missed.