The final installment of the Best Saturday in a Decade.
Having soundly defeated the young guns, and as we rubbed our frigid, gloveless hands, RideRx and I recounted tales of valor and bravery under fire as we beat a victorious retreat homeward. We performed various ablutions, changed into our finer raiment, and after a celebratory toast, climbed into the Liberty for the ride to the Olde Towne Schule of Musick. Parked, got our seats, and waited in breathless anticipation for the show to commence.
Which in time it did. The opening act was Chris something something. Solo electric guitar and singer/songwriter. Among the worst performances ever. Easily the most monotonous guitar playing. It was as if he was being paid by the strum, with a net result of a droning buzz from his instrument and tortured, over-earnest lyrics sung with emotion that may or may not comport with the music or the words. Polite applause followed until he brought the house down by announcing that this, finally, would be his last song.
An announcer mounted the stage, announcing some announcements, chief among them was that some 1/2 price tickets for the later show could be scored simply by flashing your ticket stubs. Hmmmm. Directly, Mr. Henry and his bassist and drummer took the stage. They launched into the opening cut from "Civilians", and about 1/2 through, I leaned over to Li'l and said that I had no idea what she and RX were doing but T-Flo and myself were staying for the late show, even if it meant sitting through the wretched opening act again.
Which we did. Which we all four of us did. Our seats for the first show were center balcony, and for the second, center main floor, maybe 15 feet from the stage. Security was lax enough that T-Flo, ever the groupie (ask her about Mofro in Raleigh) walked right up onto the stage between shows to talk to Jay Bellerose, the stormy, husky, brawling drummer. The show(s) were as good as the warm up guy was bad. That only three people could produce so much rich, varied sound with such feeling is amazing. Words fail. Fortunately, there's this. But before you go clicking: It's the same concert performed in Amsterdam {I think} ten days later. Same band, similar playlist, similar intro's. Sadly, the video cannot be downloaded. At least I can't do it. So click on the link, and you'll go to the Fabchannel site. Search Joe Henry, or click on 'Concerts" and you'll find Joe Henry there somewhere. It's the whole show. About an hour and forty-five? Take it all once, none at all or whatever you want. The resolution is a little coarse, especially on full screen view, but it gives a very true representation of the show. Enjoy.
And if somebody can get it to embed or link to the site, please do.
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4 comments:
Thanks for finishing that up. You nailed the description of that dreadful opening act too. Amazing that you found that site with the whole concert on it... I enjoyed it a great deal. But what about your little heckle of the bassist? Might you have forgotten that fun moment? I think a short adendum is in order, sir.
Heckle? Did you say heckle? Please. Mr. Henry stated in Chicago, as he did on the video in Copenhagen, that everyone was welcome to ask him anything at any time. Tammi asked at the beginning of the second show, what happened to the hat he was sporting in the first. Near the end of that (second) show, Joe expressed some disappointment at the low level of questions he had received. So I asked him why there was an electric bass sitting on stage for two shows while his bassist was exclusively using the big upright acoustic instrument. How you gonna call that a heckle?
Heckler.
Here's why it's a heckle, Heckler... you knew there was no answer to your question. Or at least no good answer. You see, the particular instrument that Tango was axing about sat through the entire first show, lookin' purdy, 'n all, but a might lonely. Not used for a single song. The second show, which featured the exact same playlist, likewise left that shiny gi-tar just sittin' there, all bored, in the corner. So at the very end of the show, Tang shouts out, wantin' to know why they bothered to have that there instrument on stage if they weren't gonna use it. The poor bassist looked at it, looked back out at Tango, looked back at the bass, then looked back at T with one of the those "I'm at a total loss for words right now and there are 50-odd people staring at me". He then mumbled something inaudible, Joe and the audience laughed, and they broke into another song. Sorry, but that strikes me as a bit of a heckle. Not a bad one, like everyone in the audience wanted to yell at the opening act, but still, a heckle nonetheless.
Move to strike. You lie like an eyewitness. Firstly, the playlist was not identical. Close, but the pre-Civilians songs were a little different. He played, for instance, "Sold" and "Edgar Bergen" only once each. So it wasn't clear to me that the electric bass was set decoration. Plus, since the playlists were so similar [though not identical] I thought maybe a gentle enticement to switch it up a bit wouldn't hurt. Also, I sorta wanted to hear the esteemed Mr Pilch hammer on the metal stringed slab of ash. One possible answer would have been "Oh, I'm glad you axed. We use that when we play "Like a Hammer", which we're gonna do now." As they did in Amsterdam. Albeit with the upright.
So sorry, but to me a heckle is an unwelcome interruption. If Mr Henry axes for questions and I axe one, that ain't a heckle. The question can be frivolous or sincere or whatever, but can't be a heckle. So stop heckling me. Or I'm tellin.
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