Some friends took a road trip down to Nashville. One night at a typical Nashville joint, they saw this guy who resembled Dave Berman of the Silver Jews. Both friends were big fans of his music as well as his book of poetry.
"Hey, isn't that Dave Berman?"
Sure enough, it was Dave Berman. They hung out with Berman for the rest of the night.
When the bars closed, Berman invited the friends to join him at his place where he had some coke. Neither friend had ever tried coke, but they could not resist the opportunity to snort coke with one of their idols.
While hanging out and doing drugs, Berman's wife came out to complain about all the noise. She had been sleeping until the party moved to her home. The couple had a shouting match. The friends were beside themselves.
Later that same year, Berman had a breakdown and nearly committed suicide. He then found Judaism and has seemingly recovered from his addictions.
24.5.08
Hey, isn't that Dave Berman?
23.5.08
Will Oldham
I nearly missed my chance to appreciate Will Oldham...twice.
Palace Songs played a Lollapalooza second stage once. I don't even remember which year. Either way, I didn't pay attention.
The next time happened when I went to Stache's to see the opening band, Run On. I had seen Run On before in an opening slot for Yo La Tengo. They were really good.
Will Oldham came out with an acoustic guitar and some cheap keyboards that he laid on the floor around him. The audience actually sat on the floor. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. Who knows what lay on that floor.
It was sort of slow and this woman was picking me up, probably the first and last time that ever happened. So, we left for the Blue Danube across the street.
A few years later, I paid attention when Will Oldham returned as Bonnie "Prince" Billy. He played with Chavez's Matt Sweeney for the Superwolf tour. I'm glad I caught him this time.
14.5.08
Columbus Is a Douche Bag
I saw Built to Spill for the first time at Little Brothers in Columbus. Between songs, Doug Martsch suggested that he might share some excerpts from the book he was reading, Lies My Teacher Told Me. He was particularly intrigued by the entries about Christopher Columbus, since they were set to play the city by the same name.
He proceeded to share an excerpt from a journal kept by one of Columbus' crew members. He read, "Columbus is a douche bag."
Built to Spill then continued their stellar set.
29.4.08
The Walkmen and The Sun at Detroit's Magic Stick
The first time I saw The Walkmen was in Detroit. My sister and her then-boyfriend convinced me to take a road trip with them to see a band with which I was only mildly familiar. I had one half of the band's debut, Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me Is Gone, in the black LP sleeve. I'd later buy the other half that night and the entire CD a few days later.
We listened to The Walkmen and The Yeah Yeah Yeahs on the way up to Detroit Rock City. I fell in love with both bands. It also occurred to me that The Walkmen were responsible for that song on the Saturn ad.
The Magic Stick is attached to a theater by the name of Majestic and above a bowling alley/diner. The Stick contained billiard tables, a large dance floor, and a wide-yet-short stage.
The opening band was interesting. They fancied themselves rather dynamic, but their best song was a cover of that same Saturn ad song, "We've Been Had".
The second band was The Sun (or "Sun" according to a flier). This is only remarkable because The Sun are from Columbus. I had always managed to miss their sets while opening for nearly every major act that had passed through Columbus over the past year. They were considered to be the first major rock band to come out of Columbus since, well, ever. It was ironic that the first time I saw them was by accident and four hours away. The Sun were good. It's too bad that their full-length, major-label debut was released as a DVD of videos.
The Walkmen then came on and blew us away. They were all over the stage, swaggering and smiling their songs of break-ups, too much drinking, and fading hipster identities. The guitar work was acidic and the percussion rattled our bones. It amazed me that Hamilton could even speak, let alone sing after screaming every song.
An interest in a band was born out of that night that has not yet subsided. I always like shows that win my admiration for a band. This was one such night.
24.4.08
Chavez, Blonde Redhead, and the dude my girlfriend left me for
I once saw Blonde Redhead at Stache's in Columbus. They were really great. It was way more punk rock-like than their most recent release, 23.
The best part was that they opened up for incredible Chavez. The drummer for Chavez was maybe the most amazing being behind I kit I've ever seen.
The worst part is that the guy my girlfriend left me for was there. He actually picked up our tickets. She hung out with him while I stood up front.
Man, that guy could smack that shit out of those skins.
13.4.08
My Dad at the Pavement Show
The first time I saw Pavement live was in Cleveland with my sister...and my dad. Since my sister was 15 and we were heading to the big, scary city, Dad thought he'd accompany us to the show.
He enjoyed Dirty Three and their stories about the local pharmacist providing all the medication a junkie could need. They also played a stirring set of violin-based instrumentals that rocked as much as they moaned.
Fuck played next. He didn't care for them. I don't remember much more than that they didn't stick out like their name did.
The headliners finally made it to the cramped stage in the Agora Theater's ballroom. One of the members, I think Kannenberg, wore a fan-made t-shirt with ironed on letters. A few mooks stood up front with their shirts removed. The crowd moshed, but the band brought that on themselves.
While we saw a memorable set, my dad found a spot at the bar. He ordered a drink. The bartender made a joke about IDing him. Then she reached below the bar to reveal a Mason jar of clear liquid and offered him some. Wisely, Dad turned down the drink.
10.4.08
The Breeders and Some Annoying Opener
As a freshman in college, The Breeders were a big part of my music listening. This fan-dom was caused by a combination of MTV buzz, Nirvana praise, Pixies connections, an awakening to home-grown talent, and, most importantly, a great record. Last Splash is easily one of the best records of the 90's. This was the height of the Deal sisters' success, and I was there.
Sadly, I missed The Breeders' triumphant return to Dayton a month prior to seeing them myself. It was my sister's first concert. As they rode with her friend's worrisome parent, the girls assured their driver that it wasn't like there were going to be guns and knives at the show. Just then, they pulled up to Hara Arena, right beside the "Gun and Knife Show" banners advertising the venue's other event for the evening. They were allowed to enter anyway. For a first concert, my sister couldn't do much better than The Breeders with The Afghan Whigs, Guided by Voices, and The New Bomb Turks. Not bad.
Flash forward a few weeks in Columbus at the Newport Music Hall. I got my first chance to see The Breeders and gaze upon Kim and Kelley Deal, full of a school-boy crush on both.
Th' Faith Healers opened with a rousing set of noise and feedback. To this day, their record, Imaginary Friend, is a guilty pleasure of mine.
Then, this awful band played. It was a basic set-up of drums, bass, and guitar with exuberant front man...and a theremin. The singer pranced around and seemed to emulate Elvis as he shook his hips and shook his voice. It was wild, but annoying. The worst was when he chanted over and over "Blues Explosion, Blues Explosion". It was exhausting.
Funny thing is, that opener became one of my favorite bands of the 90's indie rock era, The John Spencer Blues Explosion. Oh well. You can't always be right.
The Breeders put on a great, great show. I moshed and rode the crowd. It was fun.
