whatbreesees

Saturday, March 31, 2012

Empire Dine and Dance, Portland

I first saw Jonny Corndawg perform at Belfast, Maine’s United Church of Christ during 2011’s Belfast Free Range Music Festival. I saw 10 shows in 10 hours that day, and had to make choices about which shows to attend. There was a lot of buzz that day about Jonny Corndawg, so I made sure to catch his set. I didn’t know what to expect, and I was surprised by Jonny’s psychedelic country music full of simple stories that made me laugh. His music caught me off guard, but I totally dug it. I saw him again in November in Portland opening for super fun bluegrass band, Trampled By Turtles. My friends Max, Sophie, and Mike joined me for that awesome, high energy show, and they were totally on board with seeing Jonny again when he came back to Portland at the end of March. It’s nice to have things you can depend on like a guaranteed great show—like taxes being due in April, my cats inevitably waking up and getting a surge of energy just as I’m trying to sleep, and my students getting a little rowdy at the end of the day on Fridays. I can’t imagine hearing about Jonny having a show in town and not going—and I can guarantee you’ll have a good time at one of his shows.

My friend Mac (who introduced me—hallelujah—to The Civil Wars well over a year before anyone else I knew had heard of them) posted a video of rocking country duo Shovels & Rope on Facebook a few months back, so when I heard they were opening the Jonny Corndawg show, I was really excited. Add to that Robert Ellis playing a short set, too, and I was pumped. He and Jonny will both be at the Newport Folk Festival this summer, and I am already looking forward to seeing them again.

Sophie made us an awesome dinner at the beautiful house in Deering she and Max were tending. We watched Kentucky beat Louisville in the NCAA final four (my bracket was toast early in the process) and started watching the Kansas/Ohio State game and had to  rush out of the house when we realized we were going to be late for Robert Ellis. We all expected, based on our last Jonny Corndawg show experience, that Empire Dine and Dance was going to be packed. We were very surprised when we arrived a little late because there was so much space at the front by the stage. I think we sadly missed a few Robert Ellis songs, but I’ll see him again this summer, so I can live with that even though I have a firm do-not-miss-the-opening-act/s policy. Robert sounded beautiful on acoustic. I loved his cowboy boots and buckle. His voice has a beautiful tone. He was very nice to the crowd and thanked us for watching his set. I was a little bummed for him because there weren’t as many people there as I would have liked—Robert Ellis is definitely worth the notice. His second album, Photographs, was named one of the top albums of 2011 by American Songwriter Magazine. Check out his performances at American Songwriters’ studio. Robert’s folk/country sound is totally up my alley, and I particularly loved one of his songs about growing up in the Bible Belt that includes the telling line “nobody talks too loud in my hometown/Nobody stands too tall/for fear of being knocked down.” As he cleaned up his equipment, I was able to lean in to tell him how excited I am to see him at the Newport Folk Festival this summer. He flashed a smile and said a genuine “thank you”—very sweet. I hope you’ll check out his music.

Robert Ellis

I could hear Cary Ann from Shovels & Rope before they took the stage. People had started to crowd the stage in anticipation of their set—clearly they are a draw—and Jonny was behind me near the merch table introducing her to his parents who’d come to the show (yes, insert the “aw” here—it was a late show, too, so good for them!). Her southern accent is thick and she was so excited to meet Jonny’s parents. You can’t miss her fiery red hair and strong personality. I was so ready for their set to start.

I think it’s the social studies teacher in me, but I really like a little context. Straight from their website, “Shovels and Rope is a Charleston, SC band consisting of Michael Trent and Cary Ann Hearst. Formed in 2010, they sing harmony driven folk, rock and country songs using two old guitars, a kick drum, a snare, a few tambourines, harmonicas, and and maybe a little keyboard sometimes. They tour constantly as a two piece, making as much noise as they can.” They met in “Athens, GA 2003 on tour with Jump Little Children. Years later we put together a band to make some money in the bars in Charleston. We went on the road in late 2010 and have been traveling since then.” [I saw Jump, Little Children open for Guster in 2001 and LOVED them!]

Shovels & Rope

These two make A LOT of beautiful noise. There is so much power in their presentation. I think anyone who sees them live will be instantly hooked by their charisma. I’m really looking forward to their new album in late July. Here’s a link to the teaser trailer for The Ballad of Shovels and Rope—a film about the making of the new album. I think it gives you a taste of how down to earth and hardworking these two are. The crowd was really into Shovels & Rope and happily bounced along to the rockin’ music. I especially liked “Boxcar,” Gasoline,” and “Bad Luck.” Cary Ann and Michael have a lot of chemistry and played off of each other—they have a clear connection and have a blast on stage. If you don’t know Shovels & Rope, please check them out. If you can see them live, do.

A lot of love here.

Cary Ann and Michael quickly packed up their equipment and Jonny Corndawg and his band took the stage. Robert Ellis joined them on guitar, too, and I was glad to see more of him. I don’t have the right words to describe Jonny’s music. It’s country for sure, and I get the impression that he writes a lot of his songs based on moments from his everyday life. “Dog on a Chain” is an example of what I mean. I bet he literally saw a dog on a chain and wrote the song that goes “I’m just a dog on a chain/and burden’s my name/and no on pays attention/to a dirty old dog/my owner is a man/who works way too hard/but I need attention and exercise.”

I was really impressed when Jonny introduced Robert Ellis to the crowd again. He said he didn’t think the crowd paid enough attention during his set (I agree). So he told us to Wikipedia him to see how big a deal he is. He introduced the members of his band and told us to get out our iPhones and look them up because they are all well-known musicians. I loved the loyalty that moment showed.

Jonny and Robert Ellis

The crowd was happy to bounce along to “Life of a Bear” from Jonny’s last album, Down on the Bikini Line. I love his random songs about random things. “Life of a Bear” goes “Big bear on the forest park/looking for a tourist he can tear apart/and bring back home to his family and friends/little bitty brown bear walking through the forest/finding little berries on berry trees and eating them/this is the life of a bear.” Jonny came to the very front of the stage (so just inches from me) and knelt down and serenaded us up close. It was magical.

Cary Ann came out for a song and they sounded great together. It must be quite interesting for her to be the only woman on the road with all of those guys! She seems like she can handle it, though. “Shut Up” sounded GREAT and everyone got a little time to solo on their instruments—keys, drums, fiddle, bass, and both guitars.

Cary Ann and some of the boys

It’s time for another concert etiquette moment. There was a girl rocking out to Shovels & Rope. She left after they packed up. She came back during Jonny Corndawg’s set. Her male friend wanted to join her up front. He decided it would be fun to be creepy and push his way to the front and grind with women in the crowd. He did this to me. In the front row. A few feet from Jonny Corndawg. I pushed him off of me (he did have great pecs, so I guess he had something going for him there) and told him “Go.Away.Now.” All of the people around me were impressed because he listened. I’m so glad I’ve had all of these years to practice my “teacher look” and the accompanying “teacher voice” to use in these instances. Oh, so a note to people who push their way to the front or inappropriately touch strangers—don’t do that. The best part is that the fiddle player saw the whole thing go down and gave me a knowing nod when I got rid of the guy. I did not make this moment up. I have witnesses.

Some of my favorite things about the band that night:  four of six of the guys had beautiful facial hair, basically everyone had cowboy boots on with the notable exception of Jonny who had on his trusty New Balance sneakers, and they had a clear chemistry and a great time up on stage. Jonny is working on his next album, Dad Country, with the help of backers through Kickstarter. Dawes (who will also be at The Newport Folk Festival again this year) is the backing band on the album. Incidentally, Jonny’s wearing the same green sweater in the Kickstarter photo that I’ve seen him wear the last two times I’ve seen him perform (even Max noticed that and he’s a guy).

Jonny did “Trash Day”—definitely one of my favorites and a song that he told us at the last show is for anyone who’s ever been in a relationship. It was one of the last songs of the night and he literally climbed the rafters and scooted across the ceiling above the stage. There’s some stage presence for you! I think he finished up with “Ain’t It Your Birthday.” I loved seeing Jonny get off stage to thunderous applause and get a big hug from his dad at the edge of the stage. I was impressed that his folks were awake after midnight, for that matter.

Jonny was a little under the weather and losing his voice. He came back on stage for two quick a cappella songs, including one by Jimmy Cousins. It was bittersweet because I always hate to see Jonny leave the stage. He is such fun to see live. Definitely check him out next time he’s in town. I’ll be up front and hopefully the guy with the great pecs will be nowhere in sight. I feel like that experience would make a good Jonny Corndawg song, actually.

xo,

bree

Monday, March 19, 2012

Tupelo Music Hall, Londonderry, NH

It’s finally here—a concise show recap. This will not be a 2,000+ word blog post. (Okay, it is, but you can stop reading after this paragraph). Do you know about Sarah Jarosz? How about Lera Lynn? No? Now you do. You’re welcome. Click on the links, listen to their music, and see them live. They are both fantastic. I didn’t realize how let down I’d been after so many recent big name shows until this magical night unfolded. I had a giant smile on my face the whole time, well—except when the show ended. Then I was sad it was over. It was by far the best show I’ve seen in 2012—so, the best of 12 so far. I keep trying not to see a show a week like last year, but I’m doing exactly that. And I’ve skipped more than half of the shows that have come across my radar. I am so glad that I didn’t miss this one, though. It was more than worth the 5+ hour roundtrip drive.

I picked up Erin after school on Monday—I have known her since she was a fifth grader and I was her camp counselor. We went to Greece on a school trip together, I ended up being her teacher her senior year of high school for a semester, and now we’re still close even though she goes to Colby Schmolby. She was home on break, so the timing was perfect. We decided to have dinner at our favorite place in Portsmouth, The Friendly Toast. I had a pineapple banana smoothie that hit the spot since I was still feeling pretty crappy with whatever virus I couldn’t kick over the weekend.

We made it to Tupelo Music Hall in Londonderry just before doors opened, and there was already a line. We found two seats on the aisle in the second row, although there really isn’t a bad seat in the house. Tupelo has a little bit of an old barn feel, though modernized. It’s really a lovely venue and I’m always happy to see a show there.

Lera Lynn and guitarist Ben Lewis took the stage. Before they opened their mouths, I was a bit taken aback by just how lovely they were to look at. Lera has full lips and long brown hair, and wore a simple sundress and boots with fringe. Ben looked sharp in his button up shirt and cowboy boots. Then they played, which was the real treat. Lera has a clear, textured voice. They harmonized well and Ben’s guitar parts complimented Lera’s playing really well.

Lera Lynn and Ben Lewis

Lera said she was from Athens, Georgia. I would call her music decidedly country. She told us that she’d filmed a music video for “Bobby, Baby” where she got to attack someone with a shovel—clearly out of character for this sweet southern gal. Ben interjected that Lera had won first place in the country division of the 2011 Chris Austin Songwriting Competition at MerleFest in North Carolina. She humbly accepted the praise. I really like the song, too. “Bobby, Baby” is powerful. The percussion had me swaying, but the lyrics are serious—“There’s a bump on the hill/Where your body lies/There’s a stone in the ground/Reads “This man did try”/If you look to the east/You see your estate/Weathered and hollowed out by your mistakes.” Lera’s vocal wailing—the “ahs” towards the end of the song—are haunting and just perfect. [Lera has become one of the most popular artists I’ve written about. People are often directed here who are in search of information about her. Check out her set from June 2012 on Mountain Stage.]

This was day three of their seven-day tour around New England with Sarah Jarosz. They are well suited to play on the same stage. Lera is also playing with Joan Osborne and Band of Heathens. There was a cute moment during one of the songs where one of the strings on Ben’s guitar was clearly out of tune—he made an adorable “oops” face and fixed it swiftly, without missing a beat. He picked up a mandolin, and they closed their set (which was over all too soon) with an impressive cover of TV on the Radio’s “Wolf Like Me.” You could have heard a pin drop. They were fabulous and commanded our attention and we were also a very attentive audience. No wonder artists want to play at Tupelo and keep coming back.

Erin and I gave each other a knowing glance as Lera and Ben finished their set and immediately got up to go buy whatever they had to sell. We both picked up her 2011 debut solo album Have You Met Lera Lynn?We got to chat briefly with Lera, who was very sweet, and she told us where they were playing next on tour. They’d never been that far north before. She said they were playing in Cambridge, and I said, “oh, at Club Passim?” She asked me to say it again. She’d be saying it really wrong. It was adorable and I was glad to help a southern girl out!

I’ve listened to Lera’s album so many times since being introduced to her that night. I like “Whiskey” with it’s simple country twang—“I don’t know if I’m coming or going/I just keep the whiskey flowing.” Only one song on the album is over three and a half minutes long—so they are short, simple, and I bet also autobiographical. “Gasoline” carries a clever insult—“You’re so good with gasoline/I’ve never seen a lie burn so clean/Now that I’ve gone up in flames/You’ve found a new friend.” The album is great from beginning to end and I highly recommend checking it out.

I like to think that I “discover” musicians before they get too famous, and I think I’m just ahead of the curve with Lera Lynn. She and Ben recorded a great cover of Bob Dylan’s “I Shall Be Released” for American Songwriter (so she is clearly on track to be famous, which she deserves to be) and if you like learning about musicians like I do, check out her interview with American Songwriter, too. I so hope she’ll come back to New England again soon. I also wish Johnny Cash were alive so she could open a show for him. They would have been a perfect fit.

I LOVE NPR Music, and many of the musicians I grow to love I’m introduced to there. I first learned about Sarah Jarosz on May 1, 2011 when NPR Music’s “First Listen” featured Jarosz’s sophomore album Follow Me Down. I listened and was moved—I became an instant fan. I did some research about Sarah and was shocked to find out that her 2009 debut album, Song Up In Her Head, came out when she was in her senior year of high school, and she wrote all but two of the songs herself. It honestly made me wonder what I’ve accomplished at almost 32, and made me really regret my decision to quit violin in the third grade. A June 14, 2009 interview on NPR Music titled “A Bluegrass Debutante, A High School Graduate” summed the awe I have for Sarah up quite well—“In the past three weeks, Sarah Jarosz has hit some big milestones. She turned 18. She graduated from high school. And her debut album, Song Up In Her Head, got reviewed in Rolling Stone, where she was dubbed ‘a contemporary-bluegrass prodigy.’” More than that, Sarah was accepted to New England Conservatory in Boston, was invited to perform at Bonnaroo and on Austin City Limits, and earned a Grammy nomination at about the same time. Just wow.

Song Up In Her Head is fantastic. I particularly like “Tell Me True” (especially the line “Do you hear my name in the chorus of your song?”) and “I Can’t Love You Now.” Sarah also covers The Decemberists’ murder ballad “Shankill Butchers” and Tom Waits’ “Come On Up To The House” on the album. Not only does she have a gorgeous voice, but Sarah also plays many instruments flawlessly. I had to do a Google search to figure out what two of the instruments are called, actually. She plays mandolin and guitar (I figured those out all by myself), but also octave mandolin and clawhammer banjo. They give her music a classic, old-time feel.

In May of 2011, Sarah released her sophomore album, Follow Me Down, which coincided with the end of her sophomore year of college. I think it says a lot about Sarah’s talent that musicians like Bela Fleck, Punch Brothers, and Shawn Colvin all performed on the album. She covered two diverse songs, too—Bob Dylan’s “Ring Them Bells” and Radiohead’s “The Tourist.” Something I thought was precious from the biography portion of Sarah’s website is that following the release of Follow Me Down was “a whirlwind tour packed into summer break. Since neither Sarah nor her musicians, Nathaniel Smith (cello) and Alex Hargreaves (violin) were old enough to rent a car, it became the tour of planes, trains and automobiles driven by whoever could be pressed into service.” The idea that such talented, accomplished musicians were able to create award-winning music but weren’t old enough to rent a car for their tour is laughable.

Oops. I’ve done that thing I sometimes do when I’m so enthusiastic about an artist that I end up writing a mini-biography and forget to talk about the show. But really, isn’t Sarah Jarosz cool? I think knowing about her background makes her that much more impressive. Back to the show, though.

Nathaniel Smith, Sarah Jarosz, and Alex Hargreaves

Sarah, Alex Hargreaves, and Nathaniel Smith took the stage. I was immediately struck by their youth. They opened with one of my favorites, “Tell Me True,” then did “Left Home,” which really showcases their playing abilities. I’ve been writing a lot lately about how little artists I’ve seen lately have been engaging with the audience, but Sarah talked to us and was very sweet. She was grateful that we’d all gathered in rural New Hampshire for the show. She gets extra points because one of the first things she talked about was that someone had Tweeted to her that they were driving 5 hours roundtrip to see her that night. It was me—and I was pumped to get a shout out. I think it was closer to 6 hours, actually, and well worth it.

They played “Run Away”—which has the great line “I buried my heart in a willow tree/You came along/Gave it back to me.” You should check out the video of “Run Away” featuring Sarah with special guests Alison Krauss and Jerry Douglas. They did  “Come Around”next, which has such great instrumental interplay.

Sarah chatted more with the shockingly not quite sold out crowd. I suspect the days of not selling out a show will soon be a thing of the past—even in relatively rural New Hampshire on a Monday night. She introduced us to the band. She is originally from Wimberley, Texas (just outside of Austin), is a student in Boston at NEC, and this was their “Spring Break” tour. Violinist Alex Hargreaves is from Corvallis, Oregon and is a student at Berklee in Boston. Cellist Nathaniel Smith of Brandon, Mississippi, has toured with Natalie MacMaster. I doubt if any of them is even 21 years old. Sarah took the time to promote both of her trio-mates’ solo albums, which shows a lot of class.

Sarah introduced “Gypsy” and told us that she’d written it about a woman she’d seen on the subway in New York City. They’d played it at Joe’s Pub in The Village in New York City a few days before and during this particular song the subway appropriately rattled the ground as it traveled beneath the venue. I loved their covers of Bob Dylan’s “Ring Them Bells” and Joanna Newsom’s “The Book of Right-On.” One of the things I noticed in between songs is that no one needed to use a tuner. It must be nice to have such a good ear!

Something I haven’t tried yet because I really prefer to see music live is Concert Window. It’s a website connected to some of the venues I like (Club Passim, One Longfellow Square, Tupelo, etc) where you can pay a few dollars and live stream concerts going on each night. Sarah’s concert was on Concert Window that night. She said her parents were watching and dedicated a song to them. I thought that was very sweet.

Sarah wrapped up her set with her adaptation of Edgar Allen Poe’s final poem “Annabelle Lee” and the title track from her debut album, “Song Up In Her Head,” where Alex switched to mandolin (I am so jealous of these multi-instrumentalists!) which sounded beautiful.

We cheered for an encore (I’ve started to wonder where the tradition of encores came from—stay tuned for more information), and the trio came back and played Tom Waits’ “Come On Up To The House” which involved some audience participation on the chorus. Sarah even had us sing one of the choruses without her help, and we sounded okay. It was such a nice way to end such an intimate show, and gave me some needed energy for my three hour drive home. I SO hope to see Sarah and Lera again in New England soon. I would love to have them come up to Maine, too. There’s definitely a lot of bluegrass/country/Americana music followers who’d love to see you both up here!

xo,

bree

Friday, March 16, 2012

State Theatre, Portland, ME

I was giddy with excitement in the days leading up to seeing The Head and the Heart for the first time. I couldn’t sleep the night before. It was a rough Friday, both because I was exhausted from the sleepless night, but also because I realized I was coming down with something that afternoon. I tried and failed to take a nap after school. I picked up Michelle and we met a bunch of friends for dinner at our favorite Brunswick restaurant, Scarlet Begonias. We had a delicious, garlic-laden meal, and Chris, Kay, Michelle, and I piled into Chris’ fancy BMW to head to Portland for the show.

Finding parking in Portland at 7:30 on a Friday night turned out to be quite a challenge despite my legendary “parking karma,” so we got to the State Theatre a song or two into the first opening act’s set. I am really glad I had seen that there were two opening acts so I could mentally prepare for waiting that long to see a band I love so much. I headed straight to the floor to find a spot as close and as center as I could. I found some space in the center about eight rows back from the stage. Michelle met up with our friend Marian who’d injured herself at yoga, and sat with her for a while. Chris and Kay and the other Bree met up with me on the floor. I got to see Mary and Emily, two former students, and Owen and Caroline, two current students. My friends Mike and Kara texted me from the balcony to say hi. I’m lucky to be surrounded by so many people with such great taste in music.

Black Girls

I wasn’t quite sure how to take the first opening act—Richmond, Virginia’s Black Girls. They reminded me of UK rock band The Darkness (you might remember their song “I Believe in a Thing Called Love.”) I was caught off guard by how little their music complimented The Head and the Heart’s. I was confused, but I was entertained. The band was lovely to look at, and the lead singer’s face was expressive and outrageous and his falsetto was both lovely and hilarious at the same time. I take notes during shows because I have a terrible memory, and I wrote down “glam rock?” I thought I was inventing the perfect genre to name their style, but Black Girls’ Facebook page says their music is “glam, surf, pop, psychedelic southern soul.” I must be psychic. I think everyone should make up their own mind about music, so check out Black Girls’ video where they call their music “weird and offbeat” and get a taste of their sound.

Drew Grow & The Pastors’ Wives took the stage next. I really wanted to fall in love with them because Drew was so sweet. I liked their music fine, but I wasn’t so moved that I wanted to buy their album after the show. Drew said they were from the “other Portland” and they respected that we were there to see The Head and the Heart and they really, really appreciated our willingness to listen. He said all the right things. I’ve been going to shows lately where performers haven’t said much on stage, so I appreciated his friendly banter. He’s doing that part right, for sure. Drew played guitar, a bassist (Kris) also played upright bass, there was a drummer (Jeremiah), and a young Elton John look-a-like (Seth Schaper) played guitar and keys. I enjoyed his silk shirt, round sunglasses, and top hat. He and the drummer had come out to play tambourine with Black Girls. Now I knew who they were. I loved the harmonies that Drew and bassist Kris Doty created. Their music had a decidedly gospel feel. I think I would have liked them more if I’d heard them unplugged. This video of  “Bon Voyage Hymn,” is great, and it shows the power and certitude with which the group performed. They also had stage presence—not only was Drew social, but the group interacted with each other while they played, and the drummer jumped up on a speaker during one of the songs and rocked out on tambourine. They have showmanship, for sure, and I appreciate that.

Drew Grow & The Pastors' Wives

Drew said that they’d met The Head and the Heart at a festival years before, and that they’d hit it off and planned to go on tour together someday. They figured it would be the kind of tour where they’d have to call home for money. Instead, The Head and the Heart has made it kind of big, and Drew Grow & The Pastors’ Wives was thrilled to be along for the ride. They met up for the tour in Kansas, and since The Head and the Heart was playing a new song, which is apparently kind of scary for bands, Drew and the band decided to perform a new song, too. He introduced it by saying, “Of course I realize all of these songs are new to you” and he invited anyone who could see the lyrics near his feet to sing along with him. The new song was their best of the night. I think it may be called “Baby Doll”—it was a rocking song with a ton of power and a fair amount of jam time.

They invited Kelli Schaefer to join them for a song. Drew informed us that she and their drummer, Jeremiah Hayden, had gotten married a couple of weeks earlier and that this was their “Honeymoon Tour.” She had a fantastic voice. Drew acknowledged again that “opening acts are what you wait through” and thanked us profusely for being so kind and for making them feel at home even though they were so far from home. They closed with another gospel tune called “It All Comes Right” that you can download for free on their Bandcamp site. Josiah from The Head and the Heart came out to play tambourine with them on that last song (there were a lot of tambourine guest spots that night), and I liked the refrain, “I’m coming home to you.” It was a message appropriate for the end of a set.

The setup for Seattle’s The Head and the Heart took a really long time. I could hear people around me rumbling that waiting through two opening acts was frustrating. I know that for me, waiting until 10pm on a Friday night after a long week for a band I love was challenging. I plan on making a separate section on my blog for “concert audience etiquette,” but let me just mention that the break before the headlining band is my least favorite time at a show at bigger venues. It’s when people start to push their way to the front to enjoy the view from closer than where they deserve to be. Let me just say that if you want to see a band up close, you need to get there early. You can’t displace people who’ve earned those spots through their perseverance. Period. My friend Bree and some of the folks right around us rightfully nicknamed me “concert mom” that night. I’ve found that if you just call people on their rudeness, they know they’re wrong and they’ll back off. It happened more than a few times in a short period of time. I got to use my teacher voice and that teacher look that I’ve been developing for over a decade. It works.

The Head and the Heart finally took the stage and played a few songs without saying anything to us. Their third song was new—if I were guessing the title, I’d call it, “Back Home to You.” It was very rock anthemy (I just invented that word), and all I could picture was the tractor scene in Footloose (which is NOT a bad thing). There was a line I liked in it, something like “You’ve got to find your right story.” I knew the rest of the songs that night, and I love them all and was thrilled to see them performed in front of my own eyes.

The Head and the Heart (sadly minus gorgeous keyboardist Kenny Hensley, who I couldn't fit in the shot because I was too close)

If I had my way, I would hear all music acoustically. I know that’s not for everyone, but it informs you about what I like and why I might not be as drawn to certain groups. Josiah sang the last lines of “Honey Come Home” with no accompaniment. The crowd hushed and the room was silent and it was a beautiful moment. I heard beautiful vocal harmonies and clear lyrics all night, and it was wonderful to be in the presence of these songs I love so much. I want to say it was the best show of the year so far—I definitely expected that—but I needed more interaction with the group. If I wanted to just hear the songs, I could listen to their CD. When I see live music, I want to hear what a song or two is about, I want to learn something about the band, and I want to hear a story about something that happened during the recording process or has happened on tour. If at least a couple of those stories aren’t told, I am a little let down. I think that if we are paying to see a show, we should see a show. The Head and the Heart was a little cold. Josiah talked the most and did seem warm, but he was still very quiet. It made me wonder if the band is mostly shy or if they’re just not nice. I need the first one to be true and not the latter.

Josiah really led the group even though he was positioned to the side. He introduced a song (yay for that!), saying that he’d adapted a poem written by a friend about her boyfriend (now fiancé), and that he was going to their wedding in May. He called it a “very happy song.” I guessed correctly that he was talking about my favorite The Head and the Heart song, “Josh McBride.” It’s not on their self-titled album, but I am very much hoping it will be on whatever they release next (and I am SO looking forward to that). It has the most lovely lyrics, “You are in the seat beside me/You are in my dreams at night/You are in grandmother’s wisdom/You are in grandfather’s charm.” What a touching, beautiful sentiment. To me it’s so good, it’s almost heartbreaking.

Besides their power and harmonies, the thing I like best about The Head and the Heart are their lyrics. I especially love “Lost In My Mind,” that includes “Momma once told me/You’re already home where you feel love.” In the most amazing thing I’ve seen on stage in a little while (PHEW), every person from both opening bands and their tour managers (or so it seemed) came out on stage to sing, clap, and play percussion during “Lost In My Mind.” It was an unexpected and very welcome surprise.

Filling the stage for "Lost In My Mind"

Josiah said they’d play a couple more songs, and they did “Sounds Like Hallelujah” and then wrapped up with “Rivers And Roads.” Charity thanked the crowd and told us that the State Theatre was almost exactly like the Moore Theatre in Seattle, and that it was very humbling and unreal to them that they sold out the Portland, Maine version. Her voice soared on that last song. The whole group sounded beautiful. It had a super strong, harmonic, powerful finish and you could have heard a pin drop in the State during the last thirty seconds of the song that they did a capella. It might have been their best song of the night. My favorite part, though, was a group of guys next to us—maybe in their late teens—who were belting out the song along with the band. It was precious.

The band came out for an encore and Charity said they’d try to do a quiet song first. They played two songs for us. The first was “Chasing the Ghost,” which Charity and Jonathan did acoustically and is sadly not on their album. Everyone plugged in and the band left us with the song that made me fall in love with their music, “Down In The Valley.” My concert notebook has five little hearts drawn next to the song title.

Even in my immediate group, reviews of the show were mixed. Since then, I’ve talked to almost everyone I know who saw the show that night and we don’t all agree. I think The Head and the Heart sounded really good, I thought two opening acts was too many, and I desperately wanted more interaction with the band. Heather Browne, who wrote their bio for The Head and the Heart’s website, probably oversold them when she wrote, “Their shows are, simply, one hell of a lot of breathless fun. . . From the first months of the band’s life, their reputation as a phenomenal live band has preceded them wherever they play.” I do wholeheartedly agree, however, with her assessment that “For all the times your toes tap while enjoying this band, often the lightness will deceptively belie the depth of ache in the lyrics when you sit down to really listen.” I hope I just caught them on an off night, because The Head and the Heart has a big place in my heart. I’ll see them again this summer at the Newport Folk Festival (I get so overwhelmed when I think about the lineup!), and I’ll let you know (hopefully) that they were jubilant and effervescent.

xo,

bree

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Cumberland County Civic Center, Portland

2010 was the best year of my life. I think about it from time to time, and I miss it. I remember when the clock struck midnight and it became 2011—I was sad. And I was at an Ellis Paul concert at Club Passim in Cambridge, MA, so that’s saying something. I think what made the year so special was that great friends and I went to Vieques, Puerto Rico in February and made a list of things we wanted to do in the year before our next birthdays. My list of “31 Things to Do Before Turning 31” was impressive (if I say so myself), and included things like—“ride in a hot air balloon,” “visit a friend abroad,” “learn how to make a mojito,” and “read Jane Eyre.” I slowly ticked things off my list. One of the biggest things I did that year was “visit Alaska.” I have always wanted to go, and my friend Brady spent summers there working as a hiking/rafting guide for people coming off cruise ships. He said I was more than welcome to visit, and I took him up on it. I went in July for about ten days, and really had the time of my life. I have never been sadder to leave a place in my life. It felt like summer camp. I almost cried when I left Skagway on the ferry back to Juneau. I think I would have postponed my return flight, but I had tickets to see Counting Crows the day after I landed (I saw Brandi Carlile and Good Old War the night before I left), and I was officiating my friends’ wedding a few days after that.

Skagway, Alaska

Alaska is where I met Nate Weiler (another guide and Brady’s friend) and saw Trampled By Turtles for the first time at the Red Onion in “downtown” Skagway. It’s also the place where I was introduced to The Black Keys. Brady made me a hearty oatmeal breakfast one of the first mornings I was there and then left for work. His housemate, the life-loving Jesse Guilliams, was getting ready for work a bit later and cranked some tunes on the CD player in their living room. He said to me, “You’ve GOT to hear this,” and out came “Everlasting Light” by The Black Keys. I rarely remember exactly where I was when I’ve heard most other songs for the first time, but that one was just too good. I was instantly a fan.

The Green House in Skagway. Here's where I heard "Everlasting Light" for the first time. Thanks, Jesse!

When I heard that the State Theatre was bringing The Black Keys to Portland’s Cumberland County Civic Center, I was pumped. I bought my tickets the moment they went on sale. They were expensive (and for a lot of my friends, cost prohibitive). Ticketmaster is obviously evil, and I think tickets were just shy of $60 each with service fees. I haven’t paid that much for a show since last summer when I went to see U2 (the loves of my life) on back-to-back nights in Montreal at the Hippodrome with 80,000 other adoring fans. I love The Black Keys, but their tickets shouldn’t cost as much as U2’s.

Oh, hey Bono! You're 5 feet away. THIS is worth $60!

I eventually sold my other ticket to one of my seniors who really wanted to go but didn’t have the cash until nearer to the show and after they’d already sold out. The afternoon of the show, I was pretty entertained by the Facebook inquiries all over the place by people in search of tickets for the show, learning how much the tickets cost, and then deliberating over how much they really wanted to spend on tickets.

I had coffee that afternoon with two former students—one is a music aficionado who I met up with in December to see City and Colour in Boston where she goes to school. She told me she really likes Arctic Monkeys—the opening band slated for the show later that night.

City and Colour. That's my future husband, Dallas Green, on the left.

I’d talked to a bunch of my kiddos at school that day about our strategies for where to watch the show from that night. Since I was going alone, I banked on the idea that I could get there just before 7:30 when Arctic Monkeys took the stage and still get a single seat a few rows up from the floor very near the stage. I knew a lot of people going to the show, but decided I was not interested in fighting to hold my position on the floor to be with them. My strategy paid off super well. I got a killer parking spot really close to the Cumberland County Civic Center and found a single seat next to a really nice couple from New Hampshire four rows away from the stage. We chatted for a few minutes and realized we’d both seen Red Hot Chili Peppers with Foo Fighters at Cumberland County Civic Center in May of 2000. I told her that Dave Grohl had jumped up on a speaker right next to me during the show and she exclaimed, “That’s where we were, too!” It’s such a small world.

UK’s Arctic Monkeys took the stage. I immediately lamented the fact that I’d forgotten all of the many pairs of earplugs that I usually carry back at Sarah’s apartment in Brunswick. They were loud. I am wholly unfamiliar with their music, and frankly, every song just sounded loud, nearly incomprehensible, and repetitive to me. I started looking at my phone to see how long it would be until they were done about 15 minutes (okay, maybe 10 minutes) into their set. I know that sounds harsh, but their music is just not my thing. I am unabashedly a folk/indie girl. I am confident that if I knew their music (which their live show did not inspire me to explore), I would have been more interested. The lead singer didn’t say much, except to drop an F bomb from time to time to prove how much of a rock star he is. I didn’t hate two of the songs I heard, though—“Florescent Adolescent” and “Where The Sun Goes Down” weren’t bad. I mentioned my criticisms to some of my kids at school the next day, and even though most of them like the band and their music, they agreed with my assessment that their songs are all pretty similar and that the lead singer wasn’t particularly in touch with the crowd.

Arctic Monkeys

Arctic Monkeys wrapped up and immediately the crowd started surging. I generally like to be very close to the stage for shows, but that was exactly what I was expecting, so I was tickled to have my amazing seat above the melee. The event staff handled the crowd well. They were hydrating the people up front and kept things as safe as they could for everyone who’d packed in like sardines for the show on the floor. The room really started to feel full. I also got to people watch, and the crowd was quite diverse. Certainly, The Black Keys have all kinds of fans, but it was even more evident from glancing around the room how true that is.

The Black Keys opened with “Howlin’ For You”—one of my favorite songs from their 2011 Brothers album. There were two young girls—sisters, I imagine—probably 10 and 12 years old, fist pumping directly in front of me. It might have been their first concert (very cool) and I thought they were adorable. They stayed for the whole show, too, on a school night and everything. The Black Keys played some other favorites—“Next Girl,” “Gold On The Ceiling,” and “Little Black Submarines.” I like “Little Black Submarines” a lot because it’s different than their other songs. It’s as close to a ballad as they come from The Black Keys. I love the acoustic introduction to the song on the album and like the spot-on line, “I should’ve seen it glow/But everybody knows/That a broken heart is blind.” “Tighten Up,” which is probably the song that made them an “it” band, sounded amazing. The drum part is so incredible (I could say that about every song, basically, but it’s really true here).

The Black Keys

It was great to hear even older stuff, including “Same Old Thing,” which has a lyric I like—“Just the same old thing/No matter how much love you try to bring/It’s just the same old thing/You got a callous heart/From being torn apart” and “I’ll Be Your Man” from their first album in 2002.

Somewhere towards the end of the night I noticed a tiny girl pop up on someone’s shoulders near the front of the crowd. I immediately recognized her as Kelly (a sophomore at my school). She stayed up there, totally rocking out, for the rest of the show. It was adorable. It made my night.

Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney are an incredible duo. They make so much glorious sound together. From Akron, Ohio, they’ve been friends forever, and were just inducted into their high school’s Hall of Fame. Patrick doesn’t just play the drums—there has to be a better word for it—he pummels them. He creates the heart of their sound. I like folk music, but something about the percussion—the driving force and intensity—well, it’s incredible. Dan’s voice is raspy but clear, and he plays a mean guitar. For their tour, they rounded out the sound with two more musicians—one on bass and the other alternating between guitar and keys. No one had a lot to say, but the music was superb.

They closed their set with “Lonely Boy.” If you haven’t seen the video for that, you may be the only one. Aspiring actor and security guard Derrick Tuggle memorized the song, made up a dance, and what became the video was done in a single take. To date, it’s gotten almost 11 million views. Everyone was on their feet dancing along. The crowd raucously demanded an encore, and they guys came back out a few minutes later; after something had been set up by the crew back stage.

"Everlasting Light"

They played “Everlasting Light,” the song that made me a fan, while a gigantic disco ball in the back of the auditorium lit up the room like it was a starry night. I think that song sounds best on the album, though—it loses some of the power live (I watched a lot of videos on YouTube of it before I came to this conclusion).  Dan’s falsetto on that song was impressive. We found out that what had been set up before the encore was a giant “The Black Keys” sign that lit up. It provided a very cool backdrop.

Encore

Dan thanked the crowd and told us that it was one of the best shows they’ve played in a long time (readers from away who’ve seen them live can let us know if he just says that in every city). His comment made me wonder what makes a great crowd in the eyes of performers when the venues are that big. They closed the night with a song from three albums back, “I Got Mine.” Dan really rocked out on guitar. I don’t know how Pat can play with that much energy every night. He was impressive. I’d happily see these guys again, but I’d pay less, and I think I’d brave the floor for the full effect. They sounded spot-on and are masters of their craft.

xo,

bree

The fabulous Charlie Gill, a 9th grader at Mt. Ararat High School in Topsham where I teach, wrote an article about me for our school newspaper. Check it out! http://www.mtatalon.org/student-life/2012/03/06/bree-candland/

xo,

bree

I'm kind of a big deal. So is Charlie Gill.

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Café 939 at Berklee, Boston, MA

I’m always scouring concert calendars of the venues I love to see who’s coming up in order to piece together my own constantly evolving concert calendar. When I saw that Company of Thieves was coming to Café 939 at Berklee in Boston, I knew I recognized their name but couldn’t place them. I did a quick search and realized that my favorite local radio station, 98.9 WCLZ in Portland, plays their song “Oscar Wilde,” which I absolutely love. There’s a brilliant lyric in the song that goes, “We are all our own devil/We are our own devil/And we make this world/Our hell.” I decided to go see them to wrap up my February vacation week. I mentioned the show to a couple of Boston friends, and one of them was able to get me on the guest list for the show. [Artists and venues take note—I am happy to write about you and am always thrilled to be on your guest list! Seeing this much live music can really add up—so much that I refuse to do the math.]

I never miss an opening act (a firm rule of mine) and I like to be close to the stage, so I got to Café 939 about 20 minutes before doors were scheduled to open (it’s a tiny, intimate venue). There was already a line of 30 or so people in front of me. Company of Thieves had played there before, and many people I chatted with in line were back to see them. I took that as a good sign.

When the doors opened, I made my way to stage left where there was an open space very near the front and met a great group from New Hampshire, half of whom, I quickly learned, were related to Zac Clark—the opening act. We chatted about Zac a bit (they were all so nice) and they are clearly really proud of him. It’s nice to stand next to nice people at shows.

Zac Clark and the Young Volcanoes

Zac Clark and the Young Volcanoes took the stage, and I was delighted to see they all had fabulous beards. It’s hard not to judge a book by it’s cover, so I suppose I was expecting indie rock or alt country, but Zac Clark and the Young Volcanoes’ music is pop—totally upbeat and melodic. Zac has a beautiful, clear voice with a great tone. He sings a lot of high notes and makes it sound effortless. I was instantly wowed and surprised at how polished their sound is. It’s hard not to compare their sound to Gavin DeGraw because Zac plays piano (his band mates play drums and guitar). If you like Gavin DeGraw, James Morrison, Josh Kelley, or Jason Mraz, I bet you’ll dig Zac Clark and the Young Volcanoes.

The guys played some love songs, and I especially liked “Sing You To Sleep,” which goes, “If you say that you think you can’t believe me/I’ll wait right here while you’re making up your mind/I don’t want to take you home/But I keep quiet because I think you know/That I just want to sing you to sleep.” “Wait” is an upbeat, hopeful song that includes the lines, “Swear I’ll keep your heart/Safe here from the start/Something I never thought was necessary/But you live and learn” and “I’ll wait for you.” “Traffic” is a lovely, slow ballad—“And the traffic’s not so bad/Like we paid for this in advance/With all the roadblocks in our past/If you think you’re letting go/Know all you have to do is ask/And wait for the angel on the dashboard/To guide me home to you at last.” “Happy, With a Secret” is about a girl that’s up to no good—“It’s your attention to small details that makes you such a good liar/But it’s your penchant for leaving trails that sets your alibis on fire” and “You shake like someone’s who’s got something to hide/Is it your lips on his lips or is it your clothes by his bedside?” Sometimes love doesn’t go our way, eh? They covered “Wherever You Are” by Madi Diaz in their set and finished with a beautiful cover of “I Shall Be Released.”

I went over to see Zac in between sets because I definitely didn’t want to miss the chance to buy their album. He and I chatted and he is so genuinely nice and gave me a copy of his album to listen to on the way home to Maine. I think they are definitely in the early stages of branding themselves, though, because getting your hands on their music is not that easy. Zac—let me know if there’s a bandcamp site or some other way people can get your music if they can’t make it to a show. I’d be happy to add that information here for folks. I listened to their album the whole way home to Maine—I think at least four or five times the whole way through. It’s totally listenable and upbeat without being repetitive.

I had to leave my conversation with Zac to make it back up to my spot with his family (which they graciously saved for me) because Company of Thieves had taken the stage. I am confident that I initially watched with raised eyebrows and said “wow” out loud a couple of times because I was blown away. Talk about stage presence and power.

Genevieve and Marc

Genevieve’s voice is Bjork-like, and she reminds me a bit of an upbeat Samantha Farrell (she kind of looks like Sam, too). Her voice is raspy, breathy, and powerful. So impressive. She has the musical symbol forte tattooed on her arm—it’s the symbol for “loud”—I chuckled when I noticed it because it’s so appropriate. She’s a force of nature. The band sounded great—the guys played guitar, drums, bass, and keys. I was six inches from Eitan on the keys, so close I could have played them (if I knew how).

I am resisting the urge to reach over and play the keys.

The band really shines on “Gorgeous/Grotesque”—Genevieve introduced it saying it was about our relationship with the environment. She said, “Syrup” was a true story. I particularly appreciated the line “I know I made a mistake because I missed you/It’s a damn shame we couldn’t be.” The crowd was thrilled when she asked if they’d sing “Tallulah” with the band. Genevieve said it was about Tallulah, Louisiana and towns being left behind. I really liked “After Thought,” too—“I am not my problems/I am not my money’s worth/Where I went to school/Order of my birth/And I am not the answer/I am not the aftermath/Or picture of the past.”

Company of Thieves came back and played a three-song encore. The first was Tom Petty’s “Won’t Back Down.” Genevieve said it summed up what the band had been going through for a long time. Someone at the show recorded it and I hope you’ll watch. You can hear the guys from Zac Clark and the Young Volcanoes singing in the background. It was so beautiful and I believed every word she sang. They played “Oscar Wilde”—definitely their biggest hit from their 2009 debut album, Ordinary Riches. “Oscar Wilde” even got Company of Thieves noticed by Daryl Hall of Hall and Oates. They filmed an episode of his popular internet show “Live From Daryl’s House” in 2009. Marc told us how genuinely appreciative they were of the audience that night. He said they’d been playing in Boston since 2009 and it had never been like that. Company of Thieves ended the night with “Won’t Go Quietly,” which has driving percussion and great harmonies. Genevieve even banged on the cymbals a bit. It was a rowdy way to end the night. I can’t wait to see this group again. Catch them while you can still see them in smaller venues—they are going big places soon.

Genevieve banging on the cymbals

I’ve listened to Company of Thieves’ 2011 album, Running From a Gamble, a bunch since that night. I love that Genevieve and Marc recorded videos of themselves playing almost all of the songs in unique locations before the album was released and posted them to their YouTube channel for fans to enjoy. I especially like “Queen of Hearts”—“I’m gonna paint myself aside/Like something second in line,” “Never Come Back,” which really showcases Genevieve’s powerful voice, and “Death of Communication,” which is such a strong song with the fabulous lyrics, “Honestly my honesty/Was always what I gave for taking your bread/I never thought you would have hung it high above/As you did over my head/Ever since you came into my life/I always felt a little misled/I tried to read the signs/Tried to stay in the lines/But the shapes were always changing.”

Company of Thieves has a great story. Vocalist Genevieve Schatz met guitarist Marc Walloch in Chicago on a train through a mutual friend. She had run away from a “dysfunctional home” and was living on her own and “home-schooling herself through her senior year of high school.” They connected over music instantly and starting getting together regularly to write songs and play together. In her own words on their website, “we saved each other.” About their past, Genevieve wrote, “we weren’t those kids who were in cliques at school. We were everyone’s friends. We were curious and lonely and desperately trying to see the world beyond the manicured lawns and paved parking lots of Wal-Marts in the suburbs of Chicago. We just want to share our music with you, with love!” Company of Thieves has nothing but love and appreciation for their fans because they respect the connection that people have to the group and their music. About themselves, they say “we have a fire in our hearts that is almost impossible to match—that moves as quickly as the train we met on. The truth is…we never got off that train. It’s ever in motion. This band is bigger than us.” I think fans of Company of Thieves feel like they are part of something special. It’s one of the stories of nice, hard working, creative, dedicated people actually finishing first for a change. How refreshing.

xo,

bree

Thursday, February 23, 2012

One Longfellow Square, Portland, ME

When One Longfellow Square tells me not to miss a show, I listen. Earlier this winter, I got an email from OLS about how we should absolutely not miss Lake Street Dive, so I didn’t. It was easily one of the best shows I saw in 2011 (and I saw 52 shows, so that’s saying something!). Recently, I got another of these emails from OLS touting There Is No Sin and Old Soul as “two of the finest folk acts in Maine (or anywhere!) and not nearly enough people know it.” Since I’m writing a live music blog primarily about music in Maine, obviously I pride myself on being “in the know” about local bands. I watched There Is No Sin’s “El Cid” video on YouTube and decided they were definitely worth my time. My Portland musician friend, Max Garcia Conover, liked the video, too, so he, Sophie and I gathered for There Is No Sin’s CD release show two Thursdays ago. It was during my February vacation, so I had to look up the date (a sure sign you’re on vacation) for my notes that I jotted down during the show.

Old Soul

Old Soul opened the show. Six musicians from the greater Portland area and further south played piano/tambourine, djembe?, bass, drums, clarinet, and guitar. I was a little distracted at first by lead singer Mike O’Hehir’s arresting smile. He was clearly happy to be on stage and bantered shyly with the audience. Mike had picked up one of his band mates from Boston just moments before the show, and I could see/hear that they don’t get to play together as much as they’d probably like as a whole band. Their sound firmed up with each song they played together, though. I liked “Red & Gold,” which includes the optimistic lyric “I feel a lot of changes/Coming our way/Let’s dance.” They played a new song without a title that had a great country vibe, including the lines, “I saw you out of the corner of my tired eyes” and “I’ve been lost before, but I ain’t blind.” I’m looking forward to hearing that on their next album. Their first album, Old Soul, was at least partially funded through Kickstarter.com. I read the “about us” section that Mike wrote to solicit funds for the project, which read as a band biography and a very sweet love story between him and band mate Danielle Savage.

I’ve listened to Old Soul a lot in the last couple of weeks, especially when multitasking, and fully agree with Mike Olcott’s review in the Portland Press Herald that, “on the unassuming self-titled debut from the Portland-based trio Old Soul, Mike O’Hehir, Danielle Savage and Brendan Shea have harnessed a lovely, low-burning sound and splashed it across nine rainy-morning songs.” I especially like “Blackbird Calling” and “Red & Gold.”

HERE IS A CONCERT ETTIQUETTE LESSON that some folks sitting in front of me that night made me want to share with you:

Put your cell phone away during a small folk show at a tiny venue—ESPECIALLY if you are sitting in the FRONT ROW just inches from the stage! Texting and perusing the interwebs is actually quite distracting to those of us who are sitting around you. Show some respect to the artists who are performing. Also, please refrain from having lengthy full-volume conversations during the performances. I was pretty surprised by my neighbors at the show. Many years ago, a woman at One Longfellow sitting in my row actually took out a shaker and started percussing along with the band. Oh my.

The email from One Longfellow also informed me that There Is No Sin’s album, We Are Revealed, was chosen Best Album of 2011 by Sam Pfiefle of the Portland Phoenix. They wrote, “we HIGHLY recommend you seriously check out these bands and consider coming to this show. You’ll be kicking yourself if you don’t” and “we can’t recommend this show enough. Two of Maine’s finest acoustic acts.” Again, I listen to what OLS tells me—I’m a member and I think the folks there have impeccable taste. I was really excited by the few songs I was able to hear online, including this video of  “Arrive.”

There Is No Sin

I don’t have much to say about the There Is No Sin’s “show” though, because there wasn’t much of one. I think OLS may have gotten my expectations up a bit too high. Don’t get me wrong, I really liked the music and I’ve listened to We Are Revealed basically on repeat since that night, but There Is No Sin is essentially front man/guitarist/songwriter/singer Troy Keiper, and he said very, very little all night. He did say that they’d play the new CD straight through, and they did. He had a pianist/bassist, drummer, and guitarist accompany him. A music video for “Practice Crawling,” which Troy said he really loved and said just a few words about, played on repeat for the entire night. I thought the video was hilarious at first—a guy in a monkey suit going through the daily grind at the office, but when I realized that the video was going to loop all night, I was sad to have the distraction. I wanted to be able to better focus on the lyrics—because that’s where Troy really excels.

Troy Keiper and "Guns" the monkey

“El Cid,” We Are Revealed’s second song, is upbeat even with the lyrics, “And I wanted to kiss you/I wanted to tell you/I could fix you/But I’d have been lying to myself” and “you’d tell me to listen/I weathered the talk/But I was tired of the script.” “Untitled” is my favorite song on the new album. It belongs on a movie soundtrack. It has a haunting electric guitar riff and gentle acoustic guitar in the front. It goes, “Were you sober?/It’s me/When I ask you to listen/Self help revival/Is a mirror in the hall/Your head tilted sideways/Asleep on the phone/Answer one thing/And I’ll leave you alone” and later, “At the gates of that prison/Did you give it a chance/In the back of your mind/Was it part of your plan?/Were you wanting to find me/Half hoping you’d lose/Half hoping I’d save you/From the past that you choose/You’re like a child/Whose father never comes.” These songs are so dark and intense—I’d love to know what inspired any of them. Maybe if I caught There Is No Sin on another night I’d find out? I am not so sure. I think Troy may just let the music speak for itself.

“Answers” includes the fascinating lyric, “I’m losing faith in what I say/You sit staring in a car park/Expecting me to follow/I’ve learned to walk the other way/And out of all my answers/The ones that I’ve recanted/I regret most what I couldn’t say.” “Misled” reminds me a lot of Maine singer-songwriter Christian Cuff (who I really like and you should check out). “Inhale” is a striking song—very stripped down. “I was the boy who dreamed I could make it/I was the boy who tried to stop leaving/These lights aren’t helping/And I’m too lost now/I wanted my words to save you somehow.” It goes on, “I was the boy who wanted to save you/I was the boy you thought was asleep/I know the lines that you wanted to save you/I know the things that you wanted to keep.”

There Is No Sin ended the night with two songs from their first CD (I know because Troy said those just those few words to us before playing them) that were relatively upbeat. I left the show is sort of a daze—the lyrics are very heavy and I would have loved to have learned more about any of the songs, the recording process of the new album, or anything biographical about the band itself. Instead, I left with a head full of melancholy songs spinning in my head, with essentially nothing to go on to help me process them.

I agree with Sam Pfeifle’s assessment that “there is an easy world-worn quality to the record.” I love We Are Revealed and I’ve listened to it dozens of times since that night. I’d say that if you have to make the choice between seeing these bands live and buying their albums, though—go for the albums. You will definitely get your money’s worth there.

xo,

bree

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Empire Dine and Dance, Portland, Maine

The beauty of being relatively unfamiliar with bands I see hopefully means I’ll learn the act of brevity when recapping the shows. That was more than 1,000 words ago—oops! I guess today was not the day to learn to be concise

Sorry this post is so belated—I was busy seeing shows during February vacation week and then I’ve been sick the whole week since. I haven’t done much more than watch two seasons of Downtown Abbey in the last seven days. I need to keep resting to be ready to enjoy The Black Keys on Tuesday! I’m so excited!

I’ve known about Chamberlin for about six months now. I heard about them when they were asking their fans to vote on which songs to cover for their Cabin Covers EP. I hope their cover of Foster the People’s “Pumped Up Kicks” got them some deserved notice. It sounds great. When Hurricane Irene hit and devastated parts of Vermont—Chamberlin’s home—they decided to donate all of the proceeds from the sale of their EP to Hurricane Irene relief in Vermont. Good guys, eh? I heard that Chamberlin was coming to Portland last November and missed them, so when I heard they were coming back in February, I put them on my “definitely going” list. I am often in search of concert buddies, and Max and Sophie, after listening to some of Chamberlin’s videos on YouTube, were convinced they should go with me.

We decided to have dinner at Tu Casa in Portland, and then went back to Max and Sophie’s before the show. The poster for the event said the show was at 9pm. The website for Empire Dine and Dance didn’t specify doors vs. show, so we decided to head over at 9:30pm. I should mention that this was a school night for me. When we arrived at Empire at about 9:40pm, we thought we might have missed some of the first opening band, Worried Well. We were wrong. Doors had just opened and Worried Well didn’t go on until 10pm. Max was feeling a little under the weather and I had three ninth grade classes the next day and needed to be up at 6:15am to teach my kiddos about the President’s Cabinet.

Worried Well

Portland-based Worried Well had a lot of sound for just two people—one on electric guitar and the other on drums. Lead singer Daniel James had a strong voice. Their harmonies were solid, and the drumming was tight. They reminded me of Jump, Little Children, who I liked a lot about a decade ago. Sophie leaned over and said Daniel sounded a little like Chris Carrabba from Dashboard Confessional. I am not sure how he would take that because some musicians might not want to be associated with “emo” music—but from Sophie and I, it’s a compliment. Now I’m thinking about Chris Carrabba and swooning. Back to business—Daniel and drummer Cam Jones said they’d been in the studio recording that day and were making good progress on their upcoming album. They’d also recorded a video for “Human Beans” in Deering Oaks in early February. I love Daniel’s excellent moustache in the video. I talked to both guys after their set (they were both very nice) and Cam told me that they’ll be playing Brothers by The Black Keys in its entirety at The Big Easy after The Black Keys show on Tuesday. I would definitely see these guys again.

Tan Vampires

New Hampshire’s Tan Vampires took the stage at almost 11pm. I started to estimate the number of hours of sleep I’d be getting before school in the morning and got a little anxious because the band I’d really come to see was still obviously about an hour away from taking the stage. The first line out of the lead singer’s voice was captivating, something like “on my hands there are bands to remind me of the friends I’m trying to remember.” I was instantly hooked. They were five handsome, flannel-clad guys on stage, two with some of the sickest beards I’ve seen in ages. They played two guitars, bass, drums, and keys. I really like their sound and recommend checking out their music on their website and YouTube channel. They remind me some of Young the Giant, who I love and who I won’t be seeing in Boston on Thursday because I didn’t buy tickets early and now they are sold out and I am sad. The keyboard adds a little Death Cab for Cutie-ness to Tan Vampires’ sound, too. I was especially drawn to their lyrics, though, and was surprised at how well they captured the room during the 11 o’clock hour on a school night at bar in the big city. I remember hearing a line like “you can help me forget/Just lock those memories in your chest.” Their songwriting got them a nod from NPR’s All Songs Considered, too. I’m looking forward to hearing more of their music and becoming much more familiar with it. They joked about their band name and how they weren’t the sparkling kind of vampire (a Twilight reference I imagine many of you won’t get), but that their t-shirts are glow in the dark. Their website says they are coming back to Empire on April 6, and I definitely recommend going.

Chamberlin

So, the band I came to see took the stage at midnight. Awesome. Empire, you’re killing me. I am going to have to start coming to shows there during the school year on weekends and vacations only if we can’t get the evening started a little earlier. I will say that the midnight appearance of Vermont’s Chamberlin (I’m just now realizing that there was a ME-NH-VT trifecta represented that night) was stressful and I knew I was going to have to leave early in their set if I was going to get any useful sleep before school in the morning. I was sad about that, too, since I’d already waited at least three months to see them. They have a great sound, much louder and rockin’ that night than the videos on their YouTube channel had led me to believe they’d be. They had two guitars, bass, drums, and keys and jammed out a lot more than I’d expected. They can all really play; their lyrics were great and their harmonies solid. The lead singer can sing. His voice is amazing, actually. I like the lyrics from the title track of their album, Bitter Blood, and we can all relate to the line, “I felt in my bones what turned out to be true.” I also love their song, “Turn Around,” that has the great line, “my memories are silent films/Playing in my mind.” I was really, really sad to leave early, and begrudgingly left at 12:38am.  I got maybe four and a half hours of sleep and had a lot of adrenaline in my veins the next morning to teach my kids about the President’s Cabinet. In retrospect, I think I would have made it okay through the teaching day on Friday if I’d stayed to the end of their set, but I’m looking forward to seeing Chamberlin again when I don’t have somewhere important to be the next day. I think they have a tremendous sound and are definitely up and coming and you will be hearing about them more (and not just from me) for sure.

xo,

bree

Friday, February 10, 2012

Mayo Street Arts, Portland, Maine

Max is a dear friend of mine. A mutual friend who teaches where Max was doing his student teaching introduced us last winter. He’s been part of the gang ever since. I can’t separate my feelings about how great Max is as a person from how great his music is. Last summer, Max, Sophie, Chris, Brady, and I hiked Mt. Katahdin. Brady had done the whole AT and was no stranger to the mountain. For the rest of us, it was our first trip up. Brady had just had wrist surgery, so only went as far as the beginning of the Hunt Spur with us (at least that’s what we’re telling his mother). The rest of us continued on to the top and made it there quite late in the day. My refrain of the day was, “this is NO JOKE!” Mt. Katahdin is a serious climb. The way up was okay, but on the way down, my feet were D-O-N-E. Everyone else was okay, but I was not. I seriously meant it when I told them to leave me and I’d make it down eventually. I was a wreck. Chris made me give him my pack to carry, Sophie gave encouragement, and Max led the way—patiently, calmly winding us down the mountain. All told, I think it was a 15-hour ordeal. I bought my hiking buddies lunch at Big G’s in Winslow the next day to say thanks. We’ll got to Baxter State Park again this summer to camp, but I will not be hiking that mountain again under any circumstances.

Sophie, me, Chris, and Max on top of Mt. Katahdin

Max is one of the kindest, most thoughtful guys you’ll meet. He has a poet’s heart. He is calm and quiet and unassuming. When it somehow came up that he played music, I had no idea that he would be so amazing. Max is humble, and I frankly don’t think he understands how talented he is. He sent us an email last fall with a link to listen to his first EP online (conveniently titled EP#1). I listened for about thirty seconds with my mouth gaping open. I had NO IDEA that our friend Max would sound this polished or that his songwriting would be so layered and interesting. I was floored. I had to really push Max to play for us the next time we gathered and a guitar was present. He is quite shy about his talent. I had only heard Max play those few songs live before I saw him at his EP#1 release show with David Berkeley at One Longfellow Square last October. I went to the green room to chat with him before the show and reminded him that he needed to remind people to buy his EP. It’s the sort of thing he’d leave out. My friends and I took up the first few rows; his family and friends had traveled from near and far, and there was a lot of love in that room. And Max blew us away. I was so proud. Excited for his talented, touched by his songs, and just glad to call him friend. When David Berkeley and I chatted at the end of the evening, he told me that Max plays circles around him on the guitar and that he’d love to come back and do it again every year. Let’s hope so.

Max Garcia Conover at his EP#1 release show

Max was featured a few times in the local press in the weeks leading up to his Birches Lo release show at Mayo Street Arts. Sam Pfeifle from The Phoenix wrote a great review of Max’s second EP, Birches Lo. Pfeifle wrote, “the list of local guys with guitars who can grab your attention without any other window-dressing is a pretty short one. Max Garcia Conover is making a strong pitch for joining that select group.” About his songwriting, Pfeifle said, “these aren’t rambling folk crooners, but songs that ripple with energy and earnestness. They’re poetic and portrait-like, with lots of words that twist about . . .” and “he’s more likely to address trees and structures and landscapes than unrequited lovers.” I wholeheartedly agree with Pfeifle’s assessment.

Annie Seikonia reviewed Max’s EP #1 in the January-March 2012 edition of The Baysider. She hit the mark when she wrote that it’s a “warm, homespun project that gives you the feeling of meeting a new friend whom you’ve known forever.” She also said Max’s “compelling narrative lyrics are delivered in a voice rich as wild honey.” I especially loved hearing that, because Max has said many times that he only really learned to play guitar about six years ago (which I doubt you’ll believe when you hear his insane finger-picking), and that he has always struggled with learning how to sing. In an interview with USM’s Free Press, Max said, “I was really tremendously bad at singing for a good chunk of my life.” I can assure you he’s finally found his voice.

Aimsel Ponti interviewed Max in the Portland Press Herald about his life and the inspiration for Birches Lo. It was no surprise to me when Max replied that “most of the songs are at least partially about the desire to and importance of connecting to the natural world.” I think the most fitting place to hear Max’s music to fully appreciate it would be outside with him playing live around a campfire in the woods. If that’s not possible, I’d suggest downloading his music and taking it along on a hike in the woods on your iPod. It’ll do. I think Max would prefer you listen to the sounds of nature, but you get the idea. I also suspect that Max is blushing at this point. Or maybe even a couple of paragraphs ago.

I got to Mayo Street Arts two Friday nights ago (wow, I am so behind on writing about shows!) with enough time for Max to teach me how to use the Cube app for his phone so people could use their credit card to buy his EPs. I’d volunteered to run the merch table so Max could focus on playing that night. He decided to donate all of the proceeds from Birches Lo to The Chewonki Foundation, an organization that is “fostering an appreciation for the natural world and for working in community with others.” Max’s Bowdoin College pre-orientation trip was based at Chewonki. (I went fly fishing for four days in the pouring rain on my pre-orientation trip and our van broke down when we were supposed to leave for our first day of orientation—fun times).

I almost always position myself very near the front at concerts, but Mayo Street Arts is so cozy that my spot in the back felt somehow close to the stage. Every seat in the house was taken. People sat on long benches along every wall. People stood in the back with me. It was a sold out crowd for sure. Sammie Francis, one of Max’s college classmates, opened the show. She and Max Taylor sounded beautiful together. Sammie played piano while Max was on acoustic guitar and then upright bass. Their harmonies were lovely. Sammie’s voice is rich and she knows how to fill a room with it. Her second song that night, “On Cue,” came to her after not being able to write songs for a long time. It’s quite a sad song; I remember the lyric “so I sang to all the sad things/and I wished for all the glad things/but I only found walls that were black.” Sammie captured palpable emotion in that song. I was able to listen to it again at Sammie’s bandcamp site.

Sammie is a first-year English teacher, and it was very sweet that a couple of her students came to the show. She gave them a shout out and there was brief talk about MacBeth. She said that she’s not writing much music these days as she’s trying to get through her first year of teaching (don’t worry, Sammie, it gets better!). Sammie switched to guitar and told us that she grew up playing piano, but that she picked up her dad’s guitar when she was fourteen and hasn’t given it back yet. She meant it. She was playing her dad’s guitar that night. She played a song that she wrote for him, too. It was very sweet.

Sammie played “Yes, Please,” her only song, she said, that she can hear played back that she doesn’t completely hate. She wrote it while living abroad in Scotland. Max (Max Garcia Conover, that is) tries to record a song every Sunday (his “Sunday Sessions”), and Sammie recorded this at his apartment studio a couple of weeks ago. I was impressed with the guitar part on the track and wrongly assumed it was Max playing. That’s a compliment, Sammie!

Sammie covered Bon Iver’s beautiful song “Re: Stacks,” and she and another Bowdoin classmate, Emily Schonberg, covered Brandi Carlile’s “What Can I Say”—easily my favorite Brandi song. I saw Brandi open for Ray LaMontagne at Berklee in Boston on December 3, 2005 with my friend Kim and it changed my life for the better. To close her set, Sammie called Max Taylor, Max Garcia Conover, Emily Schonberg, and the fabulous Sophie Nelson up to sing a cover of Laura Marling’s “Rambling Man” with her. Everyone positioned themselves in a big circle around the room and sang together, literally in the round. It was lovely. Sammie went on to gush about Max and how far he’s come musically. She said she knew him before he even really knew how to play the guitar. Amazing how far he’s come.

Max Taylor, Sammie Francis, and friends singing in the round

We took a break and then Max took the stage. His voice carried beautifully and clearly in the space and his guitar sounded great. He opened with the first song off of Birches Lo, “Barn,” and went right into “Thatch House.” He told a story about going home to western New York around Christmas and finding a deer skeleton at a particular spot that inspired the song “The Creek Woman Poet.” There’s a heavy lyric in that song that goes “show me in my heart there’s a light among the liars.” I love “Among the White Birches”—it feels like a complete song held within another song. Max shifts the tempo about a minute into the song and then back again another minute later. “The Marshes” was one of my favorites of the night—it includes the line “and when this day ends/I will leave this place unchanged.” In the big picture, I doubt Max will be leaving our world unchanged. I’m just hoping he’ll let me tag along to the Newport Folk Festival or Bonnaroo when he gets invited. I’ll carry his guitar and fetch him water to earn my keep.

Sophie and Max invited me over for dinner a couple of months ago and Max had just finished up writing “The Wide.” He played it after dinner and it instantly became my favorite of his songs. There’s a crazy finger picking, guitar-slapping thing that he does that I love. It’s a supremely textured song. He played “The Wide” for Stay Tuned on WSCA 106.1FM in Portsmouth, and you should definitely check it out. Max wrapped up his first set with “To Belong to the Willing” and “Spiral Through the Wheat.” I love, love, love “Spiral Through the Wheat” because it’s upbeat and primal and Max rocks out at the end of the song, belting out “I won’t ever be done!” He warned us before the intermission that we would be singing a Bob Dylan song together after the break and that we’d need to sing “louder than anything’s ever been sung at Mayo Street Arts.” We were ready. He also thanked us a bunch of times for coming out to see the show. Someone in the audience chuckled and he responded, “Did I say thanks too many times?” That’s Max for you.

Max Garcia Conover at his Birches Lo EP release show

After the intermission, Max had us fill in some of the vacated seats in the front couple of rows. Some of his elementary school students had come to see him perform with their families, and the second set was decidedly after bedtime. I absolutely loved seeing Max’s students light up when they got to talk to him before the show. I could tell it was special to both Max and his students that they were there to see him play. It was incredibly sweet.

As promised, Max made us sing. We covered Bob Dylan’s “Goin’ to Acapulco.” Dave Yee, one of Max’s college friends and bandmates, drove all the way from Virginia Beach, VA to be at the show (yes, people love Max that much) and recorded the whole night. If you need a bit of joy in your day, listen to our version of “Goin’ to Acapulco.” Singing it (okay, belting it out) all together late on a Friday night felt so SO good. You can definitely hear the fantastic Ken Templeton on that track. We cracked ourselves up and you can hear that, too.

Max played another of my favorites—“As Much a Rising Sun as a Setting One,” that has the great lyrics “I’m always running and I’m always late” and “everything she falls on, I believe.” Max Taylor accompanied on upright bass and Sammie sang harmony, and for me, it made one of my favorites that much better. Max played “For Blackwater Woods” and then closed with another favorite of mine, “In City Light.” He stepped off the stage and played from the floor. I love the lyrics of “In City Light’—including “I’ve been dancing in hallways/But I play it down when someone comes” and “I’ve been writing my days down/Been writing so much/Writing’s all I write about/And I hear we’ve been wasting our time/And I’m terrified of wasting my time/But we all got things beneath our bed frames, Babe/That find us in the day/They find us in the day sometimes.” Max intended to close with “In City Light,” but we obviously demanded an encore. After many superfluous “thank yous” from Max, he played one of the first songs he ever wrote that was recorded “on a CD we don’t talk about anymore.” Ken Templeton knew every word, so I’m planning on getting my hands on said CD. He said the song “Fairweather Revolutionaries” was for his grandfather. I’d never heard it before, and it was great song to leave us with.

Obviously, I’m a huge Max Garcia Conover fan. I think he’s best live and I’ll be sure to post when he’s playing in Maine again. Check out his music and come out to see him next time! It was a magical evening.

xo,

bree

Friday, February 3, 2011

Pickard Theater, Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Maine

My friend Sarah invited me to join her for a Catie Curtis concert at Bowdoin College to benefit Safe Passage/Camino Seguro and I frankly hesitated for a moment. Catie is a Saco, Maine native and a great folk singer songwriter, but she writes a lot of love songs—and I haven’t been in the mood for those lately. Let’s just say that if you like love and are optimistic about such things, Catie Curtis’ music is for you. If not, you might want to check back later. When I found out that a benevolent “ticket fairy” had already purchased a ticket for me, though, I was more inspired to go. Seeing this many shows, ticket fairies are ALWAYS welcome—if you know a way to get me a ticket or put my name on a guest list for a show, please do.

I heard Catie earlier in the day with Ethan Minton on 98.9 WCLZ during their Acoustic Coffee Break. They chatted at length about the great work Safe Passage/Camino Seguro does in Guatemala. Bowdoin grad Hanley Denning (’92) was improving her Spanish language skills in Guatemala when someone took her on a visit to the slums near the Guatemala City garbage dump. When she saw how impoverished so many children were, she stayed to figure out how to help. Within the week of her first visit to the dump, Hanley sold some of her possessions and started a school for forty children. Safe Passage has grown since 1999 to serve hundreds of children, and Hanley’s work has continued even after her tragic death in a car accident in Guatemala in 2007.

Q97.9 morning host, Lori Voornas, gave a great introduction that evening wearing borrowed reading glasses from a stranger in the audience. Catie Curtis is a wedding officiant (I am too, actually) and performed Lori’s wedding ceremony. Lori, like many of us in the nearly sold-out crowd at Pickard Theater, is a big Catie Curtis fan.

Jenna Lindbo and Catie Curtis

Catie said she approached Safe Passage about letting her do a couple of benefit shows for them. She so believes in the mission of Safe Passage, and both of her daughters were adopted in Guatemala, so it has special meaning to her. They are even going on a family trip to Guatemala through Safe Passage during February vacation this year.

Catie introduced us to Jenna Lindbo, with whom she recorded much of her new album “Stretch Limousine on Fire.” Catie and Jenna sounded just beautiful together. The room added to the crystal clear qualities of their voices. Jenna played banjo and piano, while Catie played guitar and the tambourine she’d belted to her ankle for occasional percussion. Their harmonies were lovely. Jenna has a very sweet, soft-spoken voice. I’m looking forward to hearing more of her music.

I loved “Troubled Mind.” Catie’s fingerpicking was perfect and it added just the right sentiment to the song. The song, about being ready to take a plunge into a new relationship that gives you some relief in this crazy world goes, “and I’m tired from all the weight/Tired of being strong/So won’t you come and stay/And let me lay/Down in your arms.”

I thought Catie’s introduction to “Sing” was very sweet. She wrote this song for her daughters. Her family spends summers on Lake Michigan, and a few summers ago, she and her family had to evacuate their cottage because it was struck by lightning—ironically, soon after she’d told her daughters not to worry. She said, “sometimes singing together is the only way to be courageous in a storm,” and her children actually recall the memory of running from the cottage fondly because they sang camp songs together as they ran down the trail together. Catie asked if anyone in the audience knew sign language, and a Bowdoin student jumped on staged and signed the chorus to the song as we all sang along.

“Soulfully”—a song about new love, goes “last night you found my house/You rang the bell for me/I didn’t know you very well/I didn’t know what it would be/But I felt so close to you/In so little time.” Jenna played one of her songs, “Thank You, Jane,” that she wrote for her piano teacher’s mother (who’d taught her piano teacher how to play). I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house at the end of the song. I heard audible sniffling and saw people reaching for tissues. One of the lines still sticks out in my memory—it went, “you lived 88 years, one for each key.” What a lovely tribute.

To end her first set, Catie played “Another Day on Earth,” a song she wrote after the tragic Arizona shootings last January that took the lives of six people and seriously injured a dozen people, including recently retired US Representative Gabby Giffords.

Lori Voornas and Dr. Lisa Belisle (also Bowdoin ’92) both addressed the crowd before intermission about the important work that Safe Passage does and how love inspires all that Hanley started and what Safe Passage continues to do. Lisa published Our Daily Tread: Thoughts for an Inspired Life, which has raised more than $22,000 for Safe Passage.

Catie came back after the intermission and started her second set with “The Kiss That Counted,” which is probably the song of hers I most often hear on the radio. I assume this is another song about taking a risk and jumping into new love—“yours was the kiss that counted/The one that mattered/My life before me undone/This would be the kiss that counted/The one that shattered my defenses/Bringing me emotion and devotion.”

Catie said she wrote “Seeds and Tears” for a friend living with a terminal illness. This touching song went something like, “somewhere beyond what we can dream of/I still believe all our tears fall like rain on seed.” Catie’s words offered hope for a situation where it’s hard to see hope at all. Catie acknowledged how difficult it is to play anything after that song, so she played about thirty seconds of a Britney Spears song called “Hold It Against Me” that I’d somehow never heard before.

A catch phrase of the evils of capitalism was easily put into clever words the day that Catie saw a stretch limousine on fire. It became the title track of her new album. She played an older song—“100 Miles” afterward, which Catie said she wrote to process her feelings about wondering if she was ready for marriage. It goes, “it’s gonna rain/It’s gonna pour/Through sickness and worse/Can I love more?/You carried me/When I fell/Can I carry you?/Can I love that well?” On a bigger level, Catie said, the song is also about wondering if you have the courage to leap when something moves you. I think that message resonates with a lot of us. Sometimes it would be nice to have more courage to leap. I chuckled when Catie told us that this song was used in a Mary Kate and Ashley Olson movie. A Google search revealed that “100 Miles” was featured in “Our Lips Are Sealed,” a surely meaningful film in which the then-young Olson twins witnessed a crime, went into the FBI witness protection program, and finally ended up in Australia. Don’t worry, you can find it on Netflix. I checked. Is it in my queue? I’ll never tell.

Jenna and Catie covered “Song for a Winter’s Night” next. Sarah leaned over to ask me about the song and I confidently told her it was a Sarah McLachlan song. I’m glad I do some research for these blog posts, because I know I have some mature, attentive readers who would have let me know that Gordon Lightfoot actually wrote the song. I frequently tell my students that the songs they listen to include pieces of older songs that were not actually written (gasp) by Jason Derulo and the like. And then it happened to me—a humbling moment, for sure. In my defense, “Song for a Winter’s Night” was released in 1967, thirteen years before I was born. I’ll keep fact checking.

Jenna played lead guitar for her song “Influential Role.” Catie played piano. I liked the line, “whenever I hear music you climb through the window to my heart.” Catie’s song, “Passing Through,” was next and was quoted in the program that evening–“I refuse to let my hope become the latest casualty.” The same Bowdoin student who signed earlier for the crowd was invited back to sign the chorus of this song as we sang along. Catie and Jenna ended with “World Don’t Owe Me” with a little “Joy to the World” thrown in for good measure.

Jenna and Catie came back for an encore. Someone in the audience said something to her and she replied, “well, since he’s here, I guess I should play it.” I assume her dad was in the audience—a retired teacher from Thornton Academy in Saco where Catie attended high school. She wrote the song “My Dad’s Yard,” a very, very sweet tribute to him on the occasion of his retirement. As a teacher, I know if someone said these things about me, I’d break down sobbing. The song goes, “so if you need something when times get hard/You can probably find it in my dad’s yard/And if you need hope/If you’re coming apart/You can surely find it in my dad’s heart/He can see the beauty beneath the dust and the grime/He can see potential where the rest of us are blind/He will polish the grey until it shines clear blue/And if you know my dad/Well, he won’t give up on you.”

I told Sarah I’d thought I’d make it through a whole evening of almost completely love songs as long as Catie didn’t play “Magnolia Street.” I assumed I’d start sobbing in public if she played it, in fact. For anyone I’ve ever loved, I’ve put this song on a mix CD. It goes, “I knew that I loved you/The first time you got into my car/Your cheeks were flushed/And I felt a rush/Come over me in the dark/I got us lost/But at the next cross/You said I don’t care where we are/I’m in the right car.” It’s easily one of my favorite songs, but definitely not a song I want to be hearing often these days—and certainly not in public. I was relieved when Catie’s encore was “My Dad’s Yard,” but then she said, “oh, I’ll play another” and it was “Magnolia Street.” I took notes so I didn’t have to listen to the lyrics. It helped that Catie told a quick story before the song about asking one of her daughters what to dress up as for Halloween. Her daughter said that Catie should be a hippy. When Catie asked her what, specifically, to wear, she replied, “I don’t know. I wasn’t alive in the 80s.” It was very sweet.

One of Safe Passage’s board members presented Catie with a thank you video message from children in Guatemala they serve at the end of the show. If they post it on their website, I’ll be sure to add it here. Safe Passage is an incredible organization that provides opportunities for children and their families who are living in unimaginable situations. Maine has been tremendously generous—according to their literature, Mainers have “raised/donated over $4.5 million to support Safe Passage.” I hope you’ll check out the good work that Safe Passage does, and that you’ll see Catie Curtis the next time she’s playing in your neck of the woods. To ensure maximum enjoyment, be sure you’re feeling hopeful that day. If not, Catie’s music just may help.

As I left Pickard Theater, Adam Ezra Group’s song, “Basement Song” was playing. It was almost a too fitting way for the evening to end.

xo,

bree