More From The Live Music File

A quick bit of housekeeping before I get to today’s missive…

Five of you are truly wonderful human beings, thanks so much for clicking on the “SUBSCRIBE” button after my plea last time out here.  I truly appreciate each of you, more now than ever.  For the rest of you; if you’re on a computer look over this way⇒⇒⇒⇒⇒  If you’re on your mobile device, look here⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓

Now then, I went to a concert last night, a bluegrass band up at the High Point Theater in, not coincidentally, High Point.  It was a good show.  A fine show.  Fine.  I’m still trying to decide if the band or the venue was responsible for repressing the vibe, but it just felt, I don’t know, off, last night.  I’m leaning toward the venue though.  I think it would be a great place to see a play or a musical, but it just didn’t feel right for a concert.  Actually, let’s back up here for a bit.  C’mon, I’ll lead the way backwards.

For starters, I think the seating was designed by a sherpa.  I mean, great sight lines, but the ramp down to the seats felt like I was falling forward.  On the way back up the aisle, I was wishing I’d had a tow rope to make the climb.  For you White Sox fans, imagine the upper deck at about 43º steeper grade.  With no stairs.  But the seats were comfy, so I guess that counts for something.  I get the feeling this place doesn’t get a tremendous amount of concerts.  The guy that emcee’d the band onto the stage made a couple obligatory comments about upcoming events there, including (perhaps you should sit down before continuing) a Journey cover band!!!  And I said to myself, “Self” I said “I wouldn’t walk from my kitchen into my dining room to see Journey, I can’t imagine the chain of events that would end with me going to see a Journey cover band.”.  And I had to agree with myself, because I brought up a really good point.

Moving right along; I was comparatively underdressed, by like, a lot, last night.  Sport coats?  Sweater vests?  Really people?  I went back outside and double checked, there was, in fact, no red carpet.  And no other rock show t-shirts in the crowd.  And only a couple of flannel shirts, so.  Granted this was my first bluegrass show since I saw the great Chuck Bilskey at a bar in Elgin back in the day, but in my blue jeans and Los Lobos t-shirt I felt like I couldn’t have been more out-of-place if I’d been wearing Scandinavian Death Metal garb to an art show.  That’s a thing, right?  Seriously, I don’t know.  Scandinavian Death Metal.  It sounds like it should be a thing.

Speaking of wardrobe, this reminded me of something I saw at the Isbell concert in Nashville a few weeks back and I’m more than a little disappointed in myself for forgetting to mention it then (see my last post.  Insert eye-roll emoji anywhere you like).  Dude next to Tom was watching the Predators (Nashville’s hockey team for you non-hockeyers) game on his phone.  For real.  The whole game.  Oh, he was also wearing his Preds jersey, because of course he was.  Now, don’t get me wrong, if we’re talking Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals, I could entertain the argument.  This was, like, the 8th or 9th game of the season.  W. T. F. dude.  I really wanted to know what was going through the mind of his significant other, seated on the other side of him from us.  On soooo many levels.  Look, I love sports as much as the next person, and I recognize the challenges inherent in any interpersonal relationship.  But at some point there’s got to be a bit of negotiation going on, right?  And if that’s the successful conclusion of said negotiation, I really want to know how that all went down.  Ok, I couldn’t take the suspense anymore so I GTS’d Scandinavian Death metal and found this.  So, we’ve learned something today, haven’t we?

Oh yeah, this was allegedly about live music, wasn’t it?  Uhhhh, let’s see… Kate Rhudy, Lula Wiles, and Chandler Holt were the openers for Mipso.  All pretty bluegrassy, all pretty talented, all intermingling with each other over the course of the evening vs. a traditional opener/headliner kind of thing.  I would probably go see most of them (I wasn’t thrilled with the banjo guy, but that’s a “me” issue more than a stone thrown at him) again, but it would have to be in a different venue no doubt.

Circling back to where I kinda started this thing, I regularly check the analytics that come with this program and apparently the other night some random person in Canada viewed the shit outta this site.  So, Mr. or Ms. Canadian person, thanks, I think?  I mean without getting stereotypical, Canadians are supposed to be among the most polite people as a whole on the planet, right?  So you read 80% of my posts because you were enthralled with my literary prowess, right?  Not tryna find a back door into my banking shit or anything of that nature?  Also, Mr. or Ms. Canadian person, if you’re, like, a literary agent or some such thing, yes, I would in fact be interested in talking to you.

Peace