I Hear You're Looking for Someone to Love

"Is that porn?" was the question of the night.

Yes, it was, showing on a brick wall midway down Jefferson Street for all the world to see.

So it was that the First Fridays artwalk took a turn into the bare-breasted tonight.

I rounded up a willing girlfriend and we set out for some gallery hopping, beginning at Quirk.

Nelly Kate had the shop show, with a collection of small, framed drawings on one wall and an exquisite large-format painting/collage piece on the other.

I don't want to brag, but I already own a Nelly Kate piece.

My friend wanted to see the "Sparkle Plenty 8" show in the back and full of artsy jewelry the likes of which I'll never wear.

From there we went to Candela Gallery to see Linda Connor's photography show featuring photographs taken in such far-flung locations as Cambodia, India, Tibet and Egypt and capturing sacred and religious imagery as well as natural features like rocky landscapes.

I'd interviewed Connor earlier today and an hour into our talk, she'd looked at me and asked, "Are you an artist?"

When I asked her why she'd asked, she'd given me a wonderful compliment. "Because you get it." Hell, I admit it, I let her generous words go straight to my head.

Kind words aside, my friend agreed with me that her black and white photographs are a must-see.

Next up was Gallery 5 for Screens 'n Suds, a poster exhibit, one of my favorite kinds of works on paper.

Walking up Jefferson, my eye was immediately caught by the bouncing breasts high above my head on the side of a building.

My friend kept walking, but I kept looking, fascinated with some serious '70s sex action on the bricks.

Truth be told, I have seen very little porn in my life so I was curious.

Already playing when we got to Gallery 5 were Zac Hryciak and the Junglebeat, so after looking at posters, we took in the rest of their set.

A musician friend came up to say hello and gestured to the crowd around us. "I love seeing their faces as they experience this band for the first time."

Seriously, they were rapt, no surprise given Junglebeat's lush sound and killer harmonies.
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With a heads-up from the same friend not to miss the next band, a duo from Lynchburg, we set out to see some art during the breakdown and set-up period.

We got as far as the porn again before running into rocker Prabir.

General chit-chat ensued between the three of us while I watched the soft-core action of "The Pig Keeper's Daughter" over his shoulder.

After Prabir got over the shock of me not having a cell phone, something he should have known since we've known each other for five years now, I turned the topic to ways he could help my friend.

Back in 2009 when I was nursing a broken heart, Prabir had laid out a step-by-step plan for getting over my heartache, here.

Now that my friend was in that same sad position, I wanted him to advise her and once again, he suggested list-making, drinking and sex with strangers.

Since I hadn't tried out his plan, all I could do was nod and urge her to give it a shot. While I watched porn on the wall.

There may have been a suggestion about smoking weed and listening to Jefferson Airplane, but don't quote me on that.

Before she'd grasped the scope of what lies ahead for her, I heard music starting at Gallery 5, so our little trio made tracks for it.

As people walked around us, inevitably they turned back and asked, "Is that porn?" as if we were the experts, or maybe responsible for it.

Whether pleased or perplexed, they were smiling as they inquired.

Walking in to hear the Late Virginia Summers, I knew immediately that this was my sound.

Part shoegaze and all post-rock, they were creating the kind of textured soundscapes that needed no lyrics and qualify for what a musician friend describes as "night music."

Nathan was an amazing drummer, high energy, hitting hard and constantly doing five things at once. Joe's guitar playing was incredibly fast with hints of post-punk goodness.

After a couple of their songs, Nathan said, "This next one may or may not be a Matthew Sweet song."

By that, he meant it was an original song built around a riff from "Girlfriend," as recognizable a guitar line as any from the '90s. 

Pure heaven.

They closed with a kick-ass song with a title that got the attention of all three of us: "Please Stop Loving Me."

Actually, the full title was "(I'm Not All of Those Things) Please Stop Loving Me."

Friend thought it was a hell of  statement to tell someone to stop loving you. Prabir thought that telling someone don't stop loving me is even more of a nervy statement.

Personally, I prefer not to give instructions and hope to hear what I want to hear.

Afterwards, Nathan played tease, saying, "We only know one more song and we're not going to play it so you'll have us back."

We should only be so lucky to have them back for more mind-blowing post-rock.

By then my friend had to get going so I walked her back to my house where she'd parked and said goodnight so I could return to G5 for the crowd-pleasing, ever-energetic and grunge-y Hoax Hunters followed by Glass Twin, the band risen from the ashes of one of my long-time favorites, Marionette.

Technically, shows are supposed to end at G5 by midnight, but due to Glass Twin's sound problems causing a late start, they played on past the stroke of twelve, neighbors be damned.

They played so long that by the time I left, the porn wall had gone dark. Now I'll never know what happened to the pig keeper's daughter.

Although I have a sneaking suspicion it's a lot like #8 on Prabir's master list.