Post of Thursday night at The Call
Now that I've shot my mouth off, I should explain that after the show I actually was in a group talking with Rick the lead singer/songwriter of Clones of Sam. Not that I asked him, "Rick, I have to admit, your biceps look pretty tasty. So which sweet young thing do you flex those guns for, anyway?" He was too gentlemanly, and I would have been too out of line! Instead, as usual, I kind of kept mum. (You know, people, some days I don't have a lot to say.)
(Cue Patrick's charming imitation of Ernie snickering. At least that's what it sounds like to ME.)
All right. Some of us were led to believe that it would be Hooker Street Band on first; that was not the case. It went Silver Dahli about 9:30-9:45 (decent showing), Clones of Sam 10:30-10:45 maybe (significant following), then HSB around midnight (whew! I gotta get up early in the morning).
It was still a good show. It was good to see Ben on board.
There's this couch, on the lower level of The Call, that is all but fallen apart. At some point during HSB's set I ended up heading over to it because I couldn't sit next to the speakers (and the Merch -- sorry) any longer -- or rather, my ear couldn't sit next to the speakers any longer. Better luck next time... anyway... A young lady came and sat on the other end of the couch/loveseat... and discovered the arm is almost completely ripped off. The springs in the center of the cushions are giving way, too. This kind of caused the both of us to be jostled by the couch. She practically fell off, much to our amusement I apologized for not warning her about the hazards of the seating.
This, and various other things, illustrate: You meet the most interesting people at these things -- which is kind of what the "straight events" crack was about.
I'm starting to realize I could develop a better ear at this sort of thing; I can hear trouble in a microwave television signal just fine, but I can't yet detect serious subtleties in a live rock show product. Or can I? Like, it sounds good to me, but I have to admit I'm not listening for what's wrong -- as I am when I'm at work in television(!). I can notice when something stands out in a performance venue, that even the non-professional can tell is a problem. Like I say, I should go to more of these things. I'm listening for the new song, the old favorite, watching George jump four feet in the air while he's playing.
Yes, there was a crackle from Josh's guitar. And yes, the technician walks out on stage right in the middle of the song and mikes the amp. I grant that I've had connection to a lot of theater and performance and whatnot -- and I'm all for living fast and loose and real with it all -- but that was a very strange choice on the technician's part. I can only assume he was so aggravated by the bad connection in his own right -- that he simply could not wait until the song finished to correct the problem.
Uh-huh. If you say so.
And then there were the guys at the bar screaming for the chick playing the skins.
Labels: Originally published
... Scribbled by Bill T ... 7/16/2005 04:57:00 AM ... 
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