Get Me Started and It Just Spills Out

For the second time this week, a guy told me that he liked my passion. In this case, the comment came from a Dallas transplant (originally a New Englander) whom I'd met at Tarrant's when I went there to eat dinner and visit with a favorite bartender friend.

He was the only other bar sitter when I arrived and was busy doing something with his phone, so I didn't pay him any mind. Seeing me, he put it down and said, "I shouldn't be on my phone out on a Friday night." Given my phone feelings, that was an opening too wide for me not to jump in, so I did, eventually convincing him to bury the dreaded device under a menu and start enjoying Saturday eve.

Apparently I wasn't too overbearing because he soon began his incremental move around the bar to eventually sit next to me and pick my brain about what to do in Richmond. He's only been here since January, so his feelings about RVA are still mixed. As the bartender knowingly informed him, "You're talking to the right girl."

It's a bit challenging to just launch into what a newcomer should check out here without first getting some sense of his interests and dislikes. With a little probing, I discovered that he appreciates art, including local work and has already found a piece at Davis and Main that he plans to purchase. He'd also planned to visit the VMFA tomorrow, so I gave him my four-visit take on it.

As I made recommendations for what to see and do, I tucked into my fish tacos (grilled Mahi-Mahi, pepper jack cheese, corn relish, and guacamole with black beans), having ordered them because of a rave I'd recently heard. After having had my photographer friend over for a chatty happy hour earlier (Inama Soave Classico), I was in need of some grub to fill in the cracks and they seemed ideal for that purpose. Luckily, my transplant friend didn't seem to mind listening to a girl with guacamole dripping down her chin.

Because I was on a limited time budget (I wanted to make a show at Gallery 5 and, specifically, see the opener), I cut right to the chase and told him about my blog, suggesting he peruse it and let me know which activities I mentioned might be of interest to him and from there I would make further recommendations about what to see and do. He then graciously insisted on paying for my dinner and assured me that he'd be in touch about things to do. J-Ward girl strikes again!

The bill at Gallery 5 consisted of Long Division, Seas and Autocue, and I'd already seen the latter two, which is why I'd been determined to make it in time to see the first. Simply put, Long Division made my night. For the second time in one week, I got an excellent set of post-rock, full of swelling guitars, intricate interplay and the added pleasure of a trumpet in parts.

As much as I love a good lyric and I absolutely do, I am a complete sucker for post-rock. The band said that their influences were Sonic Youth and Radiohead, but, I'm telling you, I heard Explosions in the Sky and Yndi Halda. I can't wait for this Norfolk band to come back through town: I will insist on some of my music geek friends joining me to hear them.

Seas played next and I'd heard their 70s-influenced sound at Live at Ipanema back in March. They said tonight's show was only their 8th or 9th, so they were still working things out. They sounded terrific, though, and I think a big part of the crowd was there for them. I wanted to tsk-tsk the drummer, I'm afraid, when he admitted that he'd lived in RVA for three years and this was his first time in Gallery 5. Sorry, kids, I just can't get to everyone and tell them what to do, although clearly my efforts are sorely needed.

Last up was Autocue, they of the massive and expensive stage-filling equipment (last time I saw them at G5, their abundance of high-end gear blew out all the power in the place, not once, but twice). I'd already heard that they'd done an extremely long sound check, but the vocal was still too low in the mix, at least in my musically-challenged opinion. I ran into a guy who remembered talking to me at the last Autocue show (I'm ashamed to say that I didn't recognize him at all) and we enthusiastically compared notes on the first two bands before Autocue got started .

You might even say we had a passionate discussion. As has been duly noted of late, my passion does tend to show itself when I get to talking.

Eating and Listening Ipanema-Style

Tonight was the twelfth installment of the year long series of the Live at Ipanema shows. That' s a full year of monthly shows featuring some of the top talent in the area playing free shows and being recorded every month. If you haven't caught one of these shows, you'd better have a good excuse, that's all I can say.

It's too tempting not to start the evening with a meal at Ipanema, so I did. My friend and I found prime viewing spots at the bar and ordered our meal. We began with beet salad, superior to many because of the thinness of the beet slices, the abundance of the goat cheese and the perfection of the vinaigrette.

I wanted the herbed polenta with an oyster mushroom ragout and roasted root veggies and she got the salmon. I loved the contrast of the bready polenta with the succulent mushrooms and surrounded by root veggies, a personal favorite.

Dessert was the brownie a la mode for me and the gluten-free strawberry cake for her. Mine took longer to finish, but I tasted hers and it was just as good. That pink icing more than made up for any absence of flour.

Tonight's band was Seas, who said they hailed from D.C. and rva; as one who has lived in both places, I was willing to give them a shot based solely on that. Before the show, the bass player Peter and I discussed the changes in D.C. in the past twenty years and agreed that it was no longer the same place it once was; in fact, in many ways, Richmond is far superior. It's always satisfying to find a kindred soul to discuss Adams Morgan and Chinatown in the old days.

The music, I had been warned, was heavily 70s-influenced in a John Fahey-kind of way. We weren't long into the set when that became apparent. In fact, I'd pinpoint it even further by saying that the band listened to a lot of Neil Young and Crazy Horse to arrive at this sound. But they were also twenty-somethings, which meant that when they paid tribute to Mark Linkous, what we heard was Sparklehorse filtered through Dinosaur, Jr.; it was an interesting rock lineage.

I ran into a music-obsessed friend and her partner, which gave us a chance to catch up on our recent music geekdom; turns out we'll meet again soon at the Canal Club. There were literary lions there as well; Richmond Noir is continuing to sell like gangbusters and those who still do not have a copy would be well advised to head on over to Chop Suey to correct that.

And best of all, I finally met Brandon Peck, the artist behind the silk-screen print that hangs framed in my living room (he's also in Mouthbreather I learned). But he's not just notable for his artistic talent; turns out he was at the same Fanfarlo show at the Iota as I was. Finally, another Fanfarlo fan with whom I could gush about their amazingness.

A secondary highlight of the evening was that finally signs were put up informing the audience that the show was being recorded and to shut the hell up. It was a pleasure to enjoy the music without the usual loud, drunken chatter for a change. Heading into the second year of this outstanding series, we can expect an ever-more-respectful audience, which benefits both the musicians and us.

So if you haven't gotten yourself off the couch to enjoy some excellent vegetarian food followed by free music, next month's event is the one-year anniversary and there's no telling what kinds of surprises are in order. At the very least cake and superior sounds, but the potential is actually much greater. Of course, you'll never know if you're not there.

And, yes, I'll be there and report back, but that's just not the same. Experiencing it yourself is really so much better. Besides, then you can challenge my take on it. What do I know, after all?