It's the power of an invitation. The idling anticipation for a big storm that turned South suddenly like I decided to take it up and go out, hoping to maybe face a rain-splattered windshield on the way home. Hoping to need that sweater I packed, to shoot the moon, to find it's Fall and I'm not just overdressing anymore.
It's knowing the feeling of going to a show -- knowing it's always worthwhile, just for the music, even when I'm alone. I'm getting a feel and taste for the bar/venue with a small cover charge. No less professional are the tiny college venues and house shows I've grown to love, but with a better staging. You're still having a beer and mixing with the opening act while the headliners get going, and you're not going to lose your friends, or get a talking-to if you break a glass. (Actually, you'll just hover vaguely near the scene, guiltily stuck, watching an exasperated bartender like he's your mom, it's your kitchen and it's your friends making too much of a mess.) But whatever. I've had an intro to this scale of venue in my post-college 20's, and it fits me. No, I don't have that funny, Pavlovian welling anticipation to the same degree brought by the beautiful staging and excitement of the National. Nevertheless, this new-old feeling keeps me coming back, and I can count on a good show from Don Fredrick. They're a big group -- three guitars, keys and a kit, bass and a lead singer, so I'd actually love to see them do a house show. And their one-hour set last night flowed through about three genres, fit deftly into the timeslot, and set the stage for Sugar Candy Mountain. Their opening sequence was heavy rock. Opener, "I'll Buy the Tickets, You Get the Drinks," or however that one goes, is a present-tense storytelling number that offers fragmented information in a spoken voice. Engrossing suspense develops along the lines of edgy, grinding guitars, on an eventual, decisive rhythm with heavy downbeats. The narration builds on itself by brief additions to the beginning of the original phrase, and repetition. Slow realization of the basic facts of a situation are delivered with tacit bravado. The song builds to a simple acknowledgement of an interaction. Lyrics don't cut deep or resolve themselves, but lose themselves in heavy reverb and percussion. From one who needs music in their daily lives, this is a satisfying and enjoyable number that made for a great opener. Time to laugh at ourselves, and rock! then they ask, at their full volume, "Are you ready for me?" Then, Don Fredrick turned on a dime and played funk. To me, they are bright, talented, and entertain with ease. Funk transitioned to my favorite tune, "Country Breakfast Shorty," with a pick-up in tempo and smooth delivery. They have this song nailed down! It's a unique number, with a smiliar spoken delivery, Western tones, and the rapid rhythm of a techno trance. The song takes you on a frontier journey. The speaker wakes up somewhere on the fringe, where a knowing woman is ready with a loaded meal. And yet, while the needling melody keeps going, the speaker's thoughts linger somewhere in a state of recollection. To me, it's like waking up with a hangover, and not feeling prepared for the day as it unfolds. The full belly balances everything out, and the speaker carries it with the assurance he has taken from a stranger. The band's new album is heavier than their first recordings, and features some jazz saxophone. Keeping a lookout for their fun shows!
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWe are Kieran and Michelle, two 32-year-old William & Mary grads living in Virginia. Archives
March 2024
Categories
All
|