Mostly Semantics

So, busy weekend… first chili of the season, which was tremendously exciting, and about which I promise I’ll post soon (pics!)… but setting aside all that deliciousness for the time being, let’s talk entertainment. I managed to take in two concerts last weekend, and they proved a study in contrast. On the one hand, Saturday night, Stars at the world famous 9:30 club. Was it awesome? Fuck yes. CV thinks so too, and more thoroughly and excellently than I could possibly muster here. Can you listen to the same concert? Why of course you can - thanks NPR. I have but a trifling few nits to pick with CV’s review (no mention of how adorable Amy Millan and her omnipresent bottle (of which I can find no pictures, sadly) are, no mention of the crazy homeless guy who tried to get me to take a pull off his ‘joint’ (nasty cigar, from the smell)) but that’s not really what I want to discuss here - let’s instead talk about friday night, and the magic of (sing it with me now) lowered expectaaaa-tions (please don’t watch that past 8 seconds, ‘mad tv’ may occur.)

So Friday night, despite my desperate need to make chili (and also lay about in my house doing so much nothing), V demanded a cohabitant and I trek all the way to H street NE with her. For those of you not in DC, H Street NE is… well it’s not quite the ghetto, but it’s within the ghetto, it’s about a two/three block little hipster oasis, the place where the legends (blogs) say the really hip kids go to get away from the dreaded douchebags. It’s not really accessible by metro or bus, you’re advised not to walk there certainly, so really it’s cab or drive (we drove.)

Now, this was not our first time on the H street corridor, but it was our first time outside of what I assume is considered the flagship down there, the Rock and Roll Hotel. Tonight we were headed to the Red and the Black because one of V’s old friends was ‘headlining’ that night and he’s far from home and needed a friendly face or three. I have to admit, I was not expecting much beyond going, suffering through, and getting no sleep.

Apparently the first act (which we mercifully missed) would have been more-or-less as painful as I was expecting, but the second act… well ok, the second act wasn’t remarkable either. The Whiz Bang Three (which, having five members, is clearly the inverse of the Ben Folds Five) were not so much painful to listen to, but watching lead singer Maureen Nelson (who I’m sure is a delightful person and about whom I hesitate to pass judgment) onstage was… well…. I needed a cigarette. Emily Haines she ain’t, I’ll say that. You may have noticed at this point that I tend to lust after ladies in bands… but I’m taking a pass on her. Yikes. But I noticed a few things milling about:

1- the waitress was super fucking nice.
2- so was the door guy, who came outside and smoked with us and chatted a bit
3- some other dude, an older guy who has been in dc since 1970 (straight out the peace corps) had a fun conversation with us outside.

Now, granted, this could be because V is beguiling and everybody wants to be her friend - but this stuff never happens to me. In fact, I’ve gone to many a show at the Black Cat, 9:30 club, all over the place with V and others and, really, I never meet anyone, much less have casual friendly conversations with them. Three times just during this set that happened.

Soon enough the WB3 finished up and we went back up to cheer on V’s friend. If you followed the link earlier you may have noticed that their music is described as country/americana, which sounds about as appetizing to me as biscuits and vomit. That said, my low expectations were more than met - dude was charming onstage, it was a tiny venue and so felt almost like just your friends over having fun, drinking beers and entertaining each other - though I suppose hanging out and drinking with him beforehand contributed to that feeling.

One of the things (apart from the really tight songwriting and boffo production values at the 9:30 club) that made the Stars show so successful was Torquil’s and Amy’s, and the band in general (though nobody else said much of anything) genuineness, their lack of pretention. To wit, when they came on stage to a rousing ovation, Torq asked (paraphrasing) “don’t you guys have friends with bands you should be seeing?” That night I didn’t, but I’d just like to say that if you have a friend of a friend, if you know anybody with a band you really ought to be out there seeing them, because music is a tough gig and we’re all vain and insecure, but most importantly because it stands a fair chance of being more fun even if it isn’t the music you rock in your ipod on the way to work thrice weekly. The smaller the scene the more personal it is, it’s just a fact - something I’m gonna work on exploring in the future.

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