Start With a Song

It was all about the ampersand at the Listening Room tonight.

Just for the record, that's thirty one listening rooms and I've only missed one.

The only hitch tonight was that despite my early arrival, an interloper was in my seat, but I adjusted easily by moving to the front row and carrying on.

Birds & Arrows, a band I first saw in September 2010, was on first, but minus their cello player.

"So we're missing the 'and," guitarist Andrea said, acknowledging that the trio was a duo tonight.

After the first song, she had to tune her guitar, causing drummer Pete to tease her, "You got all Pete Townsend on that song."

They sang several new songs, like the lovely  "Coyote," mentioning how nice it was for them to get to play songs they'd just learned.

Because the Firehouse Theater is currently staging "Rocky Horror Picture Show," there was a large cage onstage.

"Sorry our go-go dancer couldn't make it," Pete joked.

That's something I'd have killed to see at the Listening Room.

They closed with a  Peter Gabriel cover, but not before Andrea admitted she had begun working on another cover this afternoon with her ukulele.

"You know that song 'Josie's on a vacation far away'?" she asked rhetorically. "Pete's already tired of me practicing it, but it's one hell of a well-crafted pop tune."

For tonight, we heard their stellar cover of "San Jacinto," knowing next time it'll be the Outfield.

As a bonus, and at the end of their set, they kissed.

It may have been a Listening Room first.

Favorite lyric: "Safety can break your heart."

Before introducing Philly's Honey Watts, emcee Chris exhorted the crowd to buy listening room t-shirts by pointing to Jonathan and saying, "We have a lovely model."

Basically, Jonathan opened his button-down shirt and flashed his listening room t-shirt at us, but we got the idea.

The duo of Honey Watts featured guitarist Catfish, whom I remembered being impressed with last time I'd heard him.

I was tonight as well, as was a photographer friend who leaned in and told me how much he was loving the guitar sound.

When an audience member asked where the band's name had come from, vocalist Liz smiled.

"My mind," she said.

She went on to say, "Because of the other bands here, we're gonna be Honey and the Watts tonight. But I want to be the watts."

Favorite lyric: "Stars sent down little blueprints for our souls."

Last up was Charlottesville's The Hill and Wood, who began by saying, "We'll start with a song and get to know each other."

My favorite way to get to know someone.

I was lucky enough to already know them from a show at the Camel in May.

There I'd fallen for their chamber/folk pop, well-written songs, keyboards and girl/boy harmonies.

Tonight was just as good without the annoying drunk bar crowd.

In fact, leader Sam mentioned how intimidating it was to be playing for a rapt audience for a change.

"Shouldn't you guys be talking or something?" he said in jest.

No, we shouldn't, not when we could be listening to such well-crafted music, like the exquisite "First Time."

There was a song sung in rounds, overlapping vocals and showing the group's strength in having four singers.

"We're just gonna keep playing the hits," Sam said  before playing "The Call," and mentioning the new Brooklyn-made video for it.

All too soon, their set was over.

Favorite lyric: "I've been given the chance to give in all the way."

Personally, I'd been given the chance to hear three exceptional bands with a side of Dixie Donuts.

Considering that chance came after Lee's fried chicken and before a discussion of Henry Miller and Roald Dahl at Ballcieaux, I'd say the evening was a lovely model for how to savor a Tuesday night.

Not to mention that it satisfied a good part of my soul's blueprint.

Play That Folky Music...With Cello

For a summer First Friday, the art walk had a terrific crowd. Maybe it was the beautiful weather.

Beginning at Gallery 5 for Skull Appreciation Day, the upstairs gallery was packed and hot, much hotter than the outside temperature. And I do I like it hot.

The 100+ skulls were about as varied as they could be, ranging from frilly and feminine to organic and growing. From cotton to candy to nails, skulls were covered in just about everything imaginable.

Downstairs, the Girls Rock! RVA exhibit showcased works inspired by women, including photographer/musician Micheal Otley's pictures of female musicians and singers in mid-performance. Sometimes men really are the best interpreters of women.

Since ADA Gallery was closed (coming soon and it better be good) and I'd already seen the excellent show at Ghostprint, I headed to Metro Gallery for their group show with a DJ from RVAlution's Dance Party spinning it loud.

I had the pleasure of running into all kinds of people I knew, including the gentleman farmer whom I intend to write about.

Art 6's Juneteenth exhibit was a timely collection of photographs from the Valentine showing 19th century blacks at church picnics, at home, at an emancipation parade and at school, among other places.  They were stunning for their veracity.

A smaller gallery held pictures from the VMFA of Africans from the 1970s, including a king in full regalia. The format was as different from the photographs as it could be and yet the visual impact just as strong.

After a brief stop at a rogue gallery with live painted models posing perfectly still, I made my way to the Courtyard for music.

Last summer I, like so many others, had felt the loss of music in the charming spot because the series had been discontinued; now it was back.

When I arrived, Lightfields was near the end of their set, playing psychedelic rock with moments drifting close to post-rock. Hmm, were these guys my cup of tea?

A friend said they were a bit jam band-like, but I heard one song I liked and one I could leave, so I can't really say. I was sorry to have missed a cover of "Killing Moon," though.

I was happy to have run into a couple of music geeks friends and set up camp with them. We were there for Chapel Hill's Birds and Arrows, a band I first saw last September at Gallery 5.

That had been an excellent show and why not; the band's combination of amplified acoustic guitar, drums and cello were the perfect sound for some beautiful harmonies.

And unlike at that last show, tonight we were outside, in a courtyard with a painted mural, no humidity and a gentle breeze wafting down from the sky. No folky band could have ordered up a lovelier evening to play.

Lead singer Andrea at one point instructed the crowd, "Use your inner geek and clap along to folk music" and the crowd obliged.

There were pop quizzes and prizes given ("What was Wild Cherry's 1970s hit?" which I knew, but shared the information with a friend rather than the group), including blankets, t-shirts and records. It was a homey touch.

After the show, we stood around chatting with other friends until we were invited to a favorite music couple's nearby condo  (the Emrick Flats were barely a block away) for drinks and nibbles.

Once there, we settled into a satisfying discussion of the local music scene, our hopes for the Hippodrome, Floyd Fest, genital piercing and batteau racing.

A woman who gives house shows because she loves music told us stories of ranting landlords and memorable music (A Good Natured Riot made more at her house than they did at Ashland Coffee & Tea. Sad).

I was excited to hear that some of the upcoming Listening Room shows will be curated by local musicians (a la All Tomorrow's Parties and an idea I adore). Brilliant!

As we sat there, a mixed group of people, some of us meeting for the first time, I was again reminded of how welcoming and interesting the local scene is.

Art walking became music standing and ended with conversation sitting.

Best of all, I never left the 'hood. Jackson Ward had it all, making J-Ward girl a happy person tonight.

Drooling the Night Away

"I will be coming from the dentist and I'm not sure how I'll be. I just hope I'm not drooling," read the e-mail from the friend I was meeting for happy hour.

But she's a really good friend, so even if she had been drooling, I think we could have worked around it.

I like her enough that I'd wipe her chin dry if it came to that.

The plan was to meet up at Pescado's China Street since she'd never been to either location, despite living on the southside.

My reluctance to go south of the river is common knowledge, but actually I had been to China Street on the night it opened, here. I had held off since then to allow for the novelty to lessen a bit.

But just in case, we'd also arrived early.

Even so, the bartender and chef both said they remembered me; maybe it's sitting in that end bar stool that makes a person memorable.

Hopefully it wasn't the sheer quantity of what I ate that time.

The owner greeted me and introduced himself and my friend arrived without drool, but there was adhesive stuck to her jaw, which I had to point out (it's like broccoli in your teeth...wouldn't you want to know?).

After three hours in the dentist's chair, I was just glad she'd shown up.

We were early enough to enjoy all the great specials, so we availed ourselves of the $3 wine (Malbec or Chardonnay) and the $4 appetizers in a nearly empty blue dining room.

It gave the owner time to chat us up about what we do, where we live and his recent reviews.

I am always curious to hear what owners and chefs offer up about their opinions of critics.

The lobster quesadilla was plump and the accompanying cheese sauce flavorful, the mussels in coconut curry broth were devoured before we began drinking the broth with a spoon and the shrimp nachos used blue corn chips (my favorite) and plenty of shrimp, cheese, green onions, red peppers and even cabbage for crunch.

Friend had to switch from wine to beer though, because the acidity of the wine was hurting her mouth, but given today's heat, she didn't seem to mind too terribly much.

Or maybe she was just trying to compensate for the numbness wearing off.

We finished with the steaming-hot conch fritters because everybody likes fried bread with sauce.

By that time, the dining room was nearing capacity and we saw plenty of impressive-looking seafood being carried past us, but we were full.

After discussing the usual (her love life, the absence of mine), she wanted to know what was next.

"I know I'm only Act One, so what's after this?" she teased.

Can you guess she works in theater?

Music at Gallery 5 was next and when I described the bands, she regretted not being able to go.

And it was a great line-up, starting with Lob Marino ("Karen, it's the same set you heard at Sprout, but we're just about done with some new stuff." Promises, promises).

Every song except one had been written while they were in South America and the one written here was about last winter, undoubtedly a shock to their system upon their return.

The witty and self-deprecating Liza Kate followed, randomly telling the audience that she loves attention and that she'd ridden a horse today.

"Ever been famous?" she asked. "It's hot up here!"

Chapel Hill's Birds and Arrows was next and I was especially eager to hear them for the first time.

Tuning up and sound-checking, lead singer Andrea asked the sound guy for less reverb.

"A little less far down the well," she clarified. "Less My Morning Jacket."

As my close musical friends know, it's not about a well, it's about a cave, for crying out loud, and I love the sound of music from a cave, but apparently it's not what B & A are going for.

They launched into their latest single and mid-way through, the place went dark.

In the highlight of the evening, the band kept right on playing.

The cello, drums and acoustic guitar all still worked and the audience cheered them for not stopping.

"We're so rock and roll, we blew the power," Andrea laughed.

The next song began while the stage was still dark but electricity was restored and they went on with their set of beautiful harmonies, well-crafted songs and obvious enthusiasm for what they do.

Introducing a song about having her 11-year old dog put down this spring, Andrea warned the audience not to cry.

And I didn't cry, but there was definite welling up since the same thing had happened to me this past spring.

Or maybe I just needed an excuse to well. In any case, the song seemed to be a crowd favorite, one of many the audience responded enthusiastically to.

Finishing up the night was the stellar Ophelia and unfortunately their set was limited by the noise ordinance curfew (don't get me started), so it was shorter than the fans would have liked.

I can only hope that the next time I see them, I get much more of them.

I seem to be hoping for a lot more of several things lately.

Just not more sad dog songs; they're just gateway music to the harder stuff and who needs that?

First I well and next thing you know I'll be drooling...and have to wipe my own chin.

Just give me some reverb to do it by.