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 climbers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label climbers. Show all posts
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
A Salty Salute: Tequila and Guided by Voices
What I know for sure (to paraphrase a recent Kennedy Center honoree):
a) That a bar that offers 52 tequilas should be on my regular route.
I hadn't been to the Whisky Grill and Smokehouse since the second week it was open and back then, they did not have an entire book detailing the liquors they carried. Now they do.
Sure, some of my favorites were there: Corazon, Don Julio, el Tesoro, as well as plenty new to me: Corrolejo, el Jimodor, Milagro.
Cielo Reposado, described as tasting of "toffee, cheese, dried cherry, brown spices and pineapple custard with a slightly tannic entry and a medium-full body that finishes with a long, okay, mint, cream and spice nuanced fade," delivered.
No chaser required.
It being Monday and all, they were out of the half chicken and the barbecue, so I had brisket (fatty bits included: yum) and beans (hot, hearty and belly-warming) and discussed with my server why drummers come home from being on tour in such great shape, why juice fasts are worth it and what RVA has over LA.
b) That you didn't have to be a music fan in the 90s to appreciate a Guided by Voices tribute, but tonight's show was a huge treat for those of us who were. And on a Monday night, too. The crowd was enthusiastic and clearly full of fans come to hear some of a favorite band's music.
For fans of indie music since there was such a thing, GBV's lo-fi pop was the best-kept secret around.
The amazing part was that there were enough GBV fans among Richmond's current crop of musicians to do a tribute show (enthusiastically and drunkenly, as the invitation stated).
After taking the second best seat in the house, a friend came in and took the best one, directly next to me, so now I had music, a clear view and a musician friend with whom to enjoy the show.
Sadly, there was no Cielo Reposado in the house, but everything else was perfect.
Herschel Stratego and his ukulele made the most interesting commitment; while agreeing to perform, he also admitted that he didn't know of GBV before being asked.
But he did his research, resulting in a brief set that shared fun facts about the band and sampled some of their music. A for effort.
Climbers and Trillions used neither a ukulele nor humor, but more than did justice to several GBV songs, in all their poppy brevity.
Paul Ivey vs. Board of Education, if not GBV fans, had certainly done their homework and delivered a well-done set. Paul looked like he could have been one of GBV's fans from back in the day and he was an excellent interpreter of the sound.
The highlight for me was Snowy Owls' set because, although I'd fallen in love with their shoegaze sound online, I had yet to hear them live and Matt is one of my favorite music buddies (the kind who recommends bands he thinks I'll like and sends me links to check out after we talk).
Their drummer had approached me earlier to introduce himself, saying "I see you at every show I go to" which caused my friend and seatmate to say, "I bet you hear that all the time."
I bet I do and I consider it a compliment of the highest order (so much better than the unoriginal "hey, great legs!").
Once they finished, the crowd around me went wild. "Strong set!" one fan said, nodding in approval. These people were taking their GBV covers very seriously; it was really cute.
Adah's leader Jun had organized the show and they played last.
Their very passionate set included some fierce violin playing on the part of Jun, who ended by turning to his band and saying,
"We rehearsed one more, but I'm too tired." End of set...but understandable after what we'd just witnessed.
The crowd was in no hurry to leave, so people lingered and talked about the show and what might be next.
There's talk of this becoming a series of tribute shows to bands that matter. I heard Pavement thrown around as the likely next honoree, but several people made a strong case for Spoon.
Either way, I'm in.
Another thing I know for sure is c) that when the current generation is re-interpreting older music, I want to hear it (especially when they're doing it drunkenly and enthusiastically).
I might suggest a little indie nap so they don't get so tired next time, though.
a) That a bar that offers 52 tequilas should be on my regular route.
I hadn't been to the Whisky Grill and Smokehouse since the second week it was open and back then, they did not have an entire book detailing the liquors they carried. Now they do.
Sure, some of my favorites were there: Corazon, Don Julio, el Tesoro, as well as plenty new to me: Corrolejo, el Jimodor, Milagro.
Cielo Reposado, described as tasting of "toffee, cheese, dried cherry, brown spices and pineapple custard with a slightly tannic entry and a medium-full body that finishes with a long, okay, mint, cream and spice nuanced fade," delivered.
No chaser required.
It being Monday and all, they were out of the half chicken and the barbecue, so I had brisket (fatty bits included: yum) and beans (hot, hearty and belly-warming) and discussed with my server why drummers come home from being on tour in such great shape, why juice fasts are worth it and what RVA has over LA.
b) That you didn't have to be a music fan in the 90s to appreciate a Guided by Voices tribute, but tonight's show was a huge treat for those of us who were. And on a Monday night, too. The crowd was enthusiastic and clearly full of fans come to hear some of a favorite band's music.
For fans of indie music since there was such a thing, GBV's lo-fi pop was the best-kept secret around.
The amazing part was that there were enough GBV fans among Richmond's current crop of musicians to do a tribute show (enthusiastically and drunkenly, as the invitation stated).
After taking the second best seat in the house, a friend came in and took the best one, directly next to me, so now I had music, a clear view and a musician friend with whom to enjoy the show.
Sadly, there was no Cielo Reposado in the house, but everything else was perfect.
Herschel Stratego and his ukulele made the most interesting commitment; while agreeing to perform, he also admitted that he didn't know of GBV before being asked.
But he did his research, resulting in a brief set that shared fun facts about the band and sampled some of their music. A for effort.
Climbers and Trillions used neither a ukulele nor humor, but more than did justice to several GBV songs, in all their poppy brevity.
Paul Ivey vs. Board of Education, if not GBV fans, had certainly done their homework and delivered a well-done set. Paul looked like he could have been one of GBV's fans from back in the day and he was an excellent interpreter of the sound.
The highlight for me was Snowy Owls' set because, although I'd fallen in love with their shoegaze sound online, I had yet to hear them live and Matt is one of my favorite music buddies (the kind who recommends bands he thinks I'll like and sends me links to check out after we talk).
Their drummer had approached me earlier to introduce himself, saying "I see you at every show I go to" which caused my friend and seatmate to say, "I bet you hear that all the time."
I bet I do and I consider it a compliment of the highest order (so much better than the unoriginal "hey, great legs!").
Once they finished, the crowd around me went wild. "Strong set!" one fan said, nodding in approval. These people were taking their GBV covers very seriously; it was really cute.
Adah's leader Jun had organized the show and they played last.
Their very passionate set included some fierce violin playing on the part of Jun, who ended by turning to his band and saying,
"We rehearsed one more, but I'm too tired." End of set...but understandable after what we'd just witnessed.
The crowd was in no hurry to leave, so people lingered and talked about the show and what might be next.
There's talk of this becoming a series of tribute shows to bands that matter. I heard Pavement thrown around as the likely next honoree, but several people made a strong case for Spoon.
Either way, I'm in.
Another thing I know for sure is c) that when the current generation is re-interpreting older music, I want to hear it (especially when they're doing it drunkenly and enthusiastically).
I might suggest a little indie nap so they don't get so tired next time, though.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Lectures, Lyrics and Duck Pate
Prabir, one of the patron saints of Richmond's music scene and a self-proclaimed nerd, created the quintessential music event tonight as part of the new Gallery 5 After 5 series. It wasn't just music and it wasn't just a lecture. It was music, followed by a lecture about music, followed by more music. Be still my heart.
Leading the musical procession were Climbers with Adah and I was sorry I missed even part of their set. This electro-indie group had a beat-driven chill-out vibe that I loved. I thought it was the ideal sound to kick off the evening as people arrived and started mingling.
DJ Sara and her main squeeze Greg greeted me ("You're always making the scene," they complimented me and then my dress. "Like I've got something better to do? No TV, no boyfriend, why not be out and about?").
Band photographer extraordinaire PJ Sykes told me about the Hopscotch Fest he's shooting this weekend and Marionette vocalist Kerri and I talked about the Tortoise show at the Canal Club.
Violinist Treesa Gold of Prabir & the Goldrush (and the Symphony) and I discussed the proper ratio of couple time versus alone time in a relationship (her bass-playing husband was absent tonight). It's a delicate balance, we agreed, although inapplicable to me now.
WRIR's Paul Ginder, the DJ I see absolutely everywhere, discussed with me why men's t-shirts should be offered in bright colors. "The WRIR mens' t-shirts are always brown or dark green or gray. Why not something colorful? I'd wear a t-shirt the color of your dress." My dress was a bright blue. He raised a good point, though; girls get color, guys get drab. Color sexism?
Tonight's lecture was by 23-year music industry veteran Tracy Wilson, talking about the generation who isn't willing to pay for music, the growth of vinyl sales, the importance and trials of touring and so much more. Based on some questions she asked the audience, I have no doubt that I was the sole person in the room who has never illegally downloaded a song. Seriously.
I loved that she said she was a music fan before all else. She also made the point that music is central to being human. When she asked the audience who had gone five days without music, four people raised their hands; I don't think I've even gone one day without it.
Afterwards, DJ Sara spun vintage 60s music while the crowd ate, drank and mingled some more. Chris from the Richmond Scene, another person I see everywhere, charmed me by telling me that my omnipresence at shows is what he likes about me (I consider this quite the compliment).
We discussed our mutual enthusiasm for live music and he referred to types like us as FOMOs (his friend's term, I believe): 'Fraid of Missing Out. I laughed at being reduced to an acronym, albeit a descriptive one.
The G5 After 5 series looks to be a regular entry on my calendar. Lecture topics will change (next month: Sculptor Paul diPasquale), but music and mingling will be a constant. You can bet I'll be walking over there on the second Wednesdays since there's no telling who I might hear or what I might learn.
Afterwards I went to Bouchon since they've finally reopened after their month-long holiday abroad. Bartender Olivier came from behind the bar to give me a full-body hug to greet me, saying he'd been in Bistro 27 a couple of times looking for me to no avail.
He was pleased to hear that Carlos now has my phone number so I can be summoned on any such future occasions (as long as they call before I leave to start my night, that is).
It was a most enjoyable evening. Olivier introduced me to the two regulars at the bar, one who splits his time between here and DC (Logan Circle, in fact, so he was tickled to hear about my years in Dupont Circle) and another who lives at the Crowne Plaza and travels weekly. Both were interesting and interested in me, so I'd lucked onto great company.
Looking at the menu, Olivier told me the pork rillettes were history, replaced by duck pate, which he highly recommended. That was good enough for me and I also got the portabello mushroom with spinach and Gruyere to add something plant-based to my duck feast.
And it was a feast, a huge portion of the pate with pickled onions, toasted baguettes and cornichons on the side. I composed each bite to include the decadent pate and tangy onions on the bread, always followed by a cornichon.
When I couldn't finish it all, Olivier insisted on boxing it up. "It'll make a great snack some night soon when you get home late and need a bite to tide you over 'til morning," he assured me.
In the middle of a discussion of DC restaurants with one of my new acquaintances, in walked a couple of the Tarrant's staff ("Karen, what are you doing all the way down here?" Was I given geographical limitations I didn't know about? Besides, it's not even a mile from home.) and they enthusiastically sat down beside me.
I recommended the duck pate to them and they were as wowed as I'd been and since one of the two was a guy, they manged to finish all of theirs. Later when two guys came in and sat down next to them, they recommended it to them. It was like a daisy chain of duck pate lovers at the bar.
The music was Pandora, set to the band Nouvelle Vogue, a fact I know because the National's "About Today" came on and I had to know if that obscure song was on someone's iPod (I would have had to have known whose) or computer-generated. Sadly, it was the latter.
Had it been the former, I'd have started a conversation that could have lasted for hours. Having just discovered the new "You Were a Kindness" today, I could have found much to share with a fellow lover of The National tonight.
I'll do what I can to be a confident wreck
Can't feel this way forever I mean
It doesn't work that way.
Okay, so maybe it wasn't The National I wanted to talk about.
Leading the musical procession were Climbers with Adah and I was sorry I missed even part of their set. This electro-indie group had a beat-driven chill-out vibe that I loved. I thought it was the ideal sound to kick off the evening as people arrived and started mingling.
DJ Sara and her main squeeze Greg greeted me ("You're always making the scene," they complimented me and then my dress. "Like I've got something better to do? No TV, no boyfriend, why not be out and about?").
Band photographer extraordinaire PJ Sykes told me about the Hopscotch Fest he's shooting this weekend and Marionette vocalist Kerri and I talked about the Tortoise show at the Canal Club.
Violinist Treesa Gold of Prabir & the Goldrush (and the Symphony) and I discussed the proper ratio of couple time versus alone time in a relationship (her bass-playing husband was absent tonight). It's a delicate balance, we agreed, although inapplicable to me now.
WRIR's Paul Ginder, the DJ I see absolutely everywhere, discussed with me why men's t-shirts should be offered in bright colors. "The WRIR mens' t-shirts are always brown or dark green or gray. Why not something colorful? I'd wear a t-shirt the color of your dress." My dress was a bright blue. He raised a good point, though; girls get color, guys get drab. Color sexism?
Tonight's lecture was by 23-year music industry veteran Tracy Wilson, talking about the generation who isn't willing to pay for music, the growth of vinyl sales, the importance and trials of touring and so much more. Based on some questions she asked the audience, I have no doubt that I was the sole person in the room who has never illegally downloaded a song. Seriously.
I loved that she said she was a music fan before all else. She also made the point that music is central to being human. When she asked the audience who had gone five days without music, four people raised their hands; I don't think I've even gone one day without it.
Afterwards, DJ Sara spun vintage 60s music while the crowd ate, drank and mingled some more. Chris from the Richmond Scene, another person I see everywhere, charmed me by telling me that my omnipresence at shows is what he likes about me (I consider this quite the compliment).
We discussed our mutual enthusiasm for live music and he referred to types like us as FOMOs (his friend's term, I believe): 'Fraid of Missing Out. I laughed at being reduced to an acronym, albeit a descriptive one.
The G5 After 5 series looks to be a regular entry on my calendar. Lecture topics will change (next month: Sculptor Paul diPasquale), but music and mingling will be a constant. You can bet I'll be walking over there on the second Wednesdays since there's no telling who I might hear or what I might learn.
Afterwards I went to Bouchon since they've finally reopened after their month-long holiday abroad. Bartender Olivier came from behind the bar to give me a full-body hug to greet me, saying he'd been in Bistro 27 a couple of times looking for me to no avail.
He was pleased to hear that Carlos now has my phone number so I can be summoned on any such future occasions (as long as they call before I leave to start my night, that is).
It was a most enjoyable evening. Olivier introduced me to the two regulars at the bar, one who splits his time between here and DC (Logan Circle, in fact, so he was tickled to hear about my years in Dupont Circle) and another who lives at the Crowne Plaza and travels weekly. Both were interesting and interested in me, so I'd lucked onto great company.
Looking at the menu, Olivier told me the pork rillettes were history, replaced by duck pate, which he highly recommended. That was good enough for me and I also got the portabello mushroom with spinach and Gruyere to add something plant-based to my duck feast.
And it was a feast, a huge portion of the pate with pickled onions, toasted baguettes and cornichons on the side. I composed each bite to include the decadent pate and tangy onions on the bread, always followed by a cornichon.
When I couldn't finish it all, Olivier insisted on boxing it up. "It'll make a great snack some night soon when you get home late and need a bite to tide you over 'til morning," he assured me.
In the middle of a discussion of DC restaurants with one of my new acquaintances, in walked a couple of the Tarrant's staff ("Karen, what are you doing all the way down here?" Was I given geographical limitations I didn't know about? Besides, it's not even a mile from home.) and they enthusiastically sat down beside me.
I recommended the duck pate to them and they were as wowed as I'd been and since one of the two was a guy, they manged to finish all of theirs. Later when two guys came in and sat down next to them, they recommended it to them. It was like a daisy chain of duck pate lovers at the bar.
The music was Pandora, set to the band Nouvelle Vogue, a fact I know because the National's "About Today" came on and I had to know if that obscure song was on someone's iPod (I would have had to have known whose) or computer-generated. Sadly, it was the latter.
Had it been the former, I'd have started a conversation that could have lasted for hours. Having just discovered the new "You Were a Kindness" today, I could have found much to share with a fellow lover of The National tonight.
I'll do what I can to be a confident wreck
Can't feel this way forever I mean
It doesn't work that way.
Okay, so maybe it wasn't The National I wanted to talk about.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
