10/07/2016
Central Square at Mass Ave / Essex St (7:05 pm)
Boylston St. at Arlington St. (7:23 pm)
A
landmark moment of sorts as I go see Lake Street Dive play at the Wang
Theater. My first Hubway ride to a concert? After fourteen months, it's
about time. But who cares, I suppose, about stats...
This
is the first concert I've bought tickets for but it isn't my first
concert. It isn't even the first time I've seen this band play. My first
Lake Street Dive concert took place just over a year prior at the end of
August in a little park in Lowell. The Wang is a slightly different
venue and underscores just how much can change in a year.
As these shows tend to do, there is an opening act. Tonight's lead-in band is Rubblebucket. What a great name for a band! I immediately note a higher-than-expected presence of brass instruments. It takes me about ten seconds to understand why the website described this group as an 'indie-dance' band - when this indie band plays, they also dance.
Towards the end of the set, the band's lead singer, Kalmia, talks to us in the crowd about recently overcoming cancer. This may or may not be an explanation for why the latest album is titled Survival Sounds. She thanks her mother for being in the crowd. After her speech, the band ends their performance by forming into a marching band and strutting all over the Wang Theater. It's ridiculous and loud and fun.
When the main event commences, I'm
surprised at how quickly the music transports me back over fourteen months. Throughout this concert, I have these little flashbacks to what happened in Lowell. The most memorable comes as the band starts playing 'You Go Down Smooth'.
About halfway into the song, I suddenly remember how this same song ended the Lowell show. It was getting close to the time I needed to leave in order to catch the last train. I remember lingering for as long as possible - about two minutes - before I gave in. As I jogged through the lifeless Lowell streets toward the train station, the last notes of the song faded into the quiet night behind me. I wonder what I would have done if I'd missed the train.
When I leave the Wang, I'm surprised to admit I enjoyed the opener more than the
main act. Maybe Lake Street Dive did, too - they had invited Rubblebucket onstage to perform a few songs together, after all. It's my only insight during the unhurried stroll home.
11/12/2016
Packard's Corner - Comm. Ave. at Brighton Ave. (12:26 am)
Charles St at Beacon St (12:45 am)
Just
a month after The Wang Theater, I go to Great Scott, a much smaller
venue. It's a bar, really, it has draft beers and a lottery machine and everything. My mission tonight's is to see Slow Club play a rare North American
show.
Hailing from Sheffield, England, Slow Club is a duo I started
listening to with a weird intensity in the past few months. It started when my my brother forwarded their song, 'The Pieces', to me early in July 2015. I slowly joined the club, if you will (please do) as I cherry picked a couple of other songs I liked from them over the next few months. But the moment I think I was locked in as a proper fan came when I learned that one of their albums was titled Christmas, Thanks For Nothing. How could anyone not be a big fan of them, really?
I
bought a ticket for this show weeks in advance but when I arrive I realize there
was no need. Maybe the Brighton-Allston area lives in ignorance of album names. The ticket price I paid and the cover charge everyone else is paying works out to the same amount - roughly equal to two draft beers plus a
generous tip. There is no 'service fee' for the unprepared, though - I perhaps lost a couple of bucks by taking care of
business early. Ticketmaster, thanks for nothing!
There
are two opening sets before the main show. During the second, I stand
next to a familiar looking man. It isn't until the set ends and I walk
to the back of the bar before I realize I was standing next to Charles,
otherwise known as one-half of Slow Club. I wonder where the other half is. I go stand at a table underneath the Keno TV and wait.
Things are moving a little slowly between
sets. In the area next to my table is an
agitated man. He is easily twice the age of everyone in the bar. He keeps
looking at me, or at least I think so at first, but I soon realize I'm
standing between his spot and the front door. I step out of his sight line but remain close enough to overhear him. When he speaks, he does so with a
noticeable English accent.
Charles soon takes the stage and announces
bad news: Rebecca is going to miss the show. The band and the bar have one thing in common - both are half-full. Slow Club, thanks for nothing!
Poor Rebecca. Apparently, she has the flu... but - get this - is in the hospital! Pretty serious flu, reader. Or maybe it isn't the flu? I wonder if there is something worth adding up here.
Charles
plays a few solo efforts to compensate the remaining fans and I enjoy the improvised show - 'Wanderer Wandering' in particular plays very well to his skills. Still,
the missing Rebecca is a huge presence in the room and the setlist is a
few songs shorter than anticipated. I wonder - what is the difference between half-full and half-empty? My beer is definitely half-empty but I'm not sure what to do next.
I wander away from the table. To my left is the bar, to my right is a merchandise table, and above us all the Keno machine spits out losing numbers. The new album, on sale in CD and vinyl formats, is called One Day All Of This Won't Matter Anymore.
