Music theorists often use mathematics to understand music.
Number of bands performing at the Camel tonight: 5
Number of hours the show lasted: 4 1/2
Number of covers: 1 (Railway Children's "Every Beat of the Heart")
Number of musicians (total) playing: 16
Number of picks lost: 1
Number of musicians onstage for Adah's set: 9
Number of guitarists writhing on the floor: 1
Number of mics used by Snowy Owls low-voiced vocalist Matt: 2
Number of guitars replaced mid-set: 1
Number of empty PBR cans: too many to count
The multi-talented Dave Watkins opened the show promptly at 8:00 with an electric guitar instead of his usual dulcitar and a loop pedal. As usual, he captured every person in the room with his skill and musicality.
Snowy Owls could have used a boost on Matt's vocals but their shimmering sound is a favorite of mine and the song "Lakes" so my style that it could have been written for me.
It was my first time seeing Climbers, a trio with a knack for a huge sound. Their drummer was a show in and of himself with his loose limbs and busy styling.
I've seen At the Stars lots of times, unlike many of my friends at tonight's show, so I knew to expect Britpop proficiency and polished sound. Even so, Steven's guitar playing always impresses me.
Adah and guests from the previous bands closed the show with two drummers, four guitarists (five when Joon wasn't playing violin), bass, keyboards, knob turner and two vocalists.
Interestingly enough, lead singer Joon positions his mic to face the side rather than the audience; I don't think it's anything personal, but he's never looking at us (his bangs don't help). He also ends up on the floor playing guitar, both on his knees and on his back. Now that's entertainment.
When I first arrived, a stranger immediately invited me to sit next to him at the bar. Instead I stood and he insisted on buying me a glass of wine (bartender: "Just let him"). He wanted to talk about me and I wanted to talk about the upcoming music.
When Dave Watkins began playing, I moved away from the bar to better hear the show, telling the guy that he was going to enjoy these bands. He later found me and raved about how right I was about Dave's music ("Good thing I didn't smoke a doobie first or I would've got lost in it").
It was a satisfying moment, but not my favorite one. That came about with some quick-witted friend humor.
Two musician friends sitting next to me had a sudden whispered conversation mid-song, both finishing with big smiles. Don't smile around me and not share; I wanted to know what they'd said.
"We were talking about how hot you look tonight," one cracked, breaking the cardinal friend rule of non-commentary about such things.
Smacking him, I said, "You were not. What was it really?"
"We said these guys would be great on a bill with Louisiana Territory," he said. Now that's more like it: musician geek talk. I knew it. I settled back in my chair satisfied.
"And then we said you look really hot tonight."
Equal and abundant points for musicianship and humor. How many points?
One for every empty PBR can in the room tonight.
Showing posts with label at the stars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label at the stars. Show all posts
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Thursday, February 18, 2010
From Frittes to Ringing Ears
My ears are ringing because of the New Rock Church of Fire. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
They were just fine when I met a friend for drinks and frittes at Can Can late this afternoon. At our last few meet-ups, he had been abstaining but apparently a couple of prolonged periods of being snowed-in with his two young'uns had sent him back to drink. As we sat on our stools directly in front of the breads and pastries, we were both amazed at the continuous stream of customers coming in to buy baguettes, loaves and such; my friend was so inspired that he purchased one to take home himself.
We both love people-watching at Can Can for the sheer variety of humankind that frequents the place. I had competition in the terrific tights category today, with several servers displaying unusual patterns worth admiring. As we prepared to leave, I offered our stools to a familiar face from the Virginia Museum who looked about to burst. Seems he'd made an important acquisition for the museum today and was about to have a drink to celebrate; there's nothing quite like the excitement of a true art geek. We were leaving our seats to worthy bottoms.
Then I was off to my Modern Romance class for part 3: Broken Hearts, 1960-80. That period was all about when things don't work out, which in this case means bad buildings. Much of the architecture of this period is eminently forgettable, the Whitney Museum in NYC being a perfect example. Luckily, there was the occasional reprieve like the Sydney Opera House to keep architectural hope alive; even during the period of broken hearts, it's essential to know that something better will come along. Next week is the last class and I, for one, am hoping for happy ending.
My last stop was The Camel to meet my music buddy Andrew and see three bands. Except that the bill had been extended to four bands because of an unexpected band traveling through town. I'd wanted to see Benvolio, once part of We Know, Plato! and a guy with a beautiful voice and mad piano skills. It was different hearing him without the backing of a band, but no less enjoyable. He closed with a haunting version of "Hallelujah."
He was followed by the New Rock Church of Fire, a DC band who had been a last-minute addition to the bill. I should have been warned when they began their set by saying "Earplugs are available up front." My complaint with them wasn't how loud they were but how poorly mic'd they were; the vocals were all but lost under the instruments. It's a shame when all you can hear is noise, not music. Fortunately, there was a guy in a plaid shirt dancing in a way that defies description to every note of the noise and he provided excellent entertainment value to the audience behind him, compensating somewhat for what was being done to our ears.
From that outpost of suburbia, Fairfax, we heard Kid Architecture and in comparison, their set was beautifully mic'd. Incubus-like vocals with Editors-like guitars and Coldplay-like keyboards, their volume was eminently more listenable. They even brought free CDs with which to woo the crowd; Andrew was particularly taken with the CD's title, PhilosoRaptor.
I've seen headliners At the Stars on numerous occasions and recommend them to fans of Brit-pop. They usually include a cover in every set and tonight's was a superb version of The Railway Children's "Every Beat of the Heart," a terrific song, even if it is a couple of decades old. I did have to wonder how many in the audience even knew it was a cover, though.
Not that it mattered, really. It was the perfect song to end the evening with and my bleeding ears enjoyed every single word.
They were just fine when I met a friend for drinks and frittes at Can Can late this afternoon. At our last few meet-ups, he had been abstaining but apparently a couple of prolonged periods of being snowed-in with his two young'uns had sent him back to drink. As we sat on our stools directly in front of the breads and pastries, we were both amazed at the continuous stream of customers coming in to buy baguettes, loaves and such; my friend was so inspired that he purchased one to take home himself.
We both love people-watching at Can Can for the sheer variety of humankind that frequents the place. I had competition in the terrific tights category today, with several servers displaying unusual patterns worth admiring. As we prepared to leave, I offered our stools to a familiar face from the Virginia Museum who looked about to burst. Seems he'd made an important acquisition for the museum today and was about to have a drink to celebrate; there's nothing quite like the excitement of a true art geek. We were leaving our seats to worthy bottoms.
Then I was off to my Modern Romance class for part 3: Broken Hearts, 1960-80. That period was all about when things don't work out, which in this case means bad buildings. Much of the architecture of this period is eminently forgettable, the Whitney Museum in NYC being a perfect example. Luckily, there was the occasional reprieve like the Sydney Opera House to keep architectural hope alive; even during the period of broken hearts, it's essential to know that something better will come along. Next week is the last class and I, for one, am hoping for happy ending.
My last stop was The Camel to meet my music buddy Andrew and see three bands. Except that the bill had been extended to four bands because of an unexpected band traveling through town. I'd wanted to see Benvolio, once part of We Know, Plato! and a guy with a beautiful voice and mad piano skills. It was different hearing him without the backing of a band, but no less enjoyable. He closed with a haunting version of "Hallelujah."
He was followed by the New Rock Church of Fire, a DC band who had been a last-minute addition to the bill. I should have been warned when they began their set by saying "Earplugs are available up front." My complaint with them wasn't how loud they were but how poorly mic'd they were; the vocals were all but lost under the instruments. It's a shame when all you can hear is noise, not music. Fortunately, there was a guy in a plaid shirt dancing in a way that defies description to every note of the noise and he provided excellent entertainment value to the audience behind him, compensating somewhat for what was being done to our ears.
From that outpost of suburbia, Fairfax, we heard Kid Architecture and in comparison, their set was beautifully mic'd. Incubus-like vocals with Editors-like guitars and Coldplay-like keyboards, their volume was eminently more listenable. They even brought free CDs with which to woo the crowd; Andrew was particularly taken with the CD's title, PhilosoRaptor.
I've seen headliners At the Stars on numerous occasions and recommend them to fans of Brit-pop. They usually include a cover in every set and tonight's was a superb version of The Railway Children's "Every Beat of the Heart," a terrific song, even if it is a couple of decades old. I did have to wonder how many in the audience even knew it was a cover, though.
Not that it mattered, really. It was the perfect song to end the evening with and my bleeding ears enjoyed every single word.
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