The plans surrounding this show decidedly went agley; I’d initially thought we’d drive out early, see some of Williamsburg, catch the show, and then hang out with some folks for drinks afterwards. But it was probably all for the best.

L., my traveling companion, had a preexisting foot injury (which I knew would limit us somewhat) and a newly present cold (which probably restricted us even more). So we decided to sleep in a bit on Saturday, and didn’t leave until about 12:30. Fortunately, the drive down involved minimal traffic for 95, and we entertained ourselves with new Neko Case and old Bruce Springsteen. We arrived at the hotel a few minutes after our earliest possible check-in, and after sorting ourselves out, decided to spend a bit of time exploring.

I’d been told, by several people, that I needed to check out The Cheese Shop, so that was our first stop. I thought it was delightful, and I say that as a former U. of M. student who cannot even think about Zingerman’s without swooning. I had a very yummy grilled cheese, and L. picked up one of the deli salads. I then did some shopping for local foodstuffs (genuine Virginia chocolate covered peanuts!) for gifts. We bopped around Merchant Square for a bit longer, but then L needed a nap to recharge before the show.

We were very close by to the center, and I probably would have tried to walk it were I on my own, but we ended up driving anyway. We got there early enough to get a decent parking spot, but not so early that the line wasn’t already wrapped around the center and down the stairs. Fortunately, they started letting people in shortly after we arrived, so we let the line snake past us and dropped in at the end. The steady and thorough check-in process gave everyone plenty of time to see the merch table; I wondered if that was intentional.

I also saw my first handmade Cook T-shirt on my way up the stairs…being sported by a 17-year-old college freshman. Heh. (It turned out to be a competition for a meet-and-greet, but still.) Anyway, then we finally got our wristbands, and went in for

The Show

I’m pretty sure we were in the Chesapeake room, which was actually a pretty decent space. They’d set the soundboard and other monitoring equipment essentially in the middle of this long and narrow room, separating the standing section from the chairs and tables in the back. (This ended up encouraging the older/family groups towards the back, with more of the college students at the front.) We found a seat for L, I picked up some snacks at the bar, and we settled in. (While standing in the line, I ended up talking to a local who had literally decided to show up because the performance was close to campus. He knew next to nothing about Cook; I did my part for the “long-time working musician/not yr mama’s Idol” narrative.)

Ryan Star’s set started pretty much right on time. I was drawn almost instantly to his cheerfully aggressive keyboard player, and enjoyed the set. I laughed when he started mocking one of the W&M students who was majoring in English (”Do you not know it?”), and laughed again when he threw a few lines of “Hot and Cold” into “Back of Your Car,” just because it was so ridiculous. After the set ended, I stopped by the table to pick up the CD and told him that I thought it was hilarious even though I normally can’t stand the Perry. He started pointing and sounded kind of excited. “I made you like Katy Perry!” Um, not so much. [grin] But then he started trying to remember all the words to the chorus, putting me in the unfortunate position of having to supply them. I must logically conclude that Ryan Star is evil.

Random Thing That Only I Noticed #1: I really want to know if the production team or the band is responsible for the interstitial music, because hearing both STP’s “Wicked Garden” and The Toadies’ “Possum Kingdom” in succession made me giggle.

L. and I decided to make a move forward once Cook’s set started, and ended up a few feet in front of the soundboard on Skib’s side. We got to press in a little bit further because the mother with the three-year-old finally realized that perhaps this was not the right place for a child without ear protection. I don’t understand the desire to bring pre-teens to rock shows, anyway, but if one insists on doing it, then perhaps some proactive parenting should be involved? Anyway.

As I said, we ended up on the Skib/Clement side, which was promising (I don’t get to see as much footage of their side in the vids), except for the really tall guy who ended up blocking my view half the time. Oh well.

RTTOIN #2: I don’t know what all the other venues were like, but from my perspective, the stage was about the size of a postage stamp. The Triscuit lights were so close to the equipment that I wondered if Peek would get a sunburn.

When the lights went down, we cheered. They only came slightly up for a lovely rendition of TWIK. I’m pretty sure he’s never performed it the same way twice. This version had a bit more reverb than I’d heard before. And as I’ve said, one of Cook’s underappreciated talents is his ability to use a risky technique to enhance the song, rather than overburdening it. So I was pleased.

Heroes is, I’ve admitted, not in my top tier on the album (I keep waiting for it to become more explicitly filial and it doesn’t), but they played the shit out of it live. Peek’s drumming was like a heartbeat, and the addition of the “AC” Les Paul underscored the family theme fairly well. Not to mention that it drove home one thing: Every single member of this band can SING (at least when they remember by the second chorus [cough]).

And then we got WOHWWS! I still crave Mystery Second Album with all the fiber of my being, so I was over the moon about it. Even the la-la-las. I did find it amusing that he didn’t introduce the song; he just went into it and hoped the audience would keep up.

I’m pretty sure this was the point where Cook broke for banter. He complimented the campus, and rightly so, but mentioned that the weather had led to puddles all over the courtyard, and that Clement’s shoes were just ruined. He promised to send an invoice, and then jumped into introducing Declaration, which he prounounced in a Spanish accent because he is ridiculous sometimes. Hee.

And then Lie. He’s still playing with it, somewhat. I particularly noticed the choice to bring in the unresolved note early, on “hear,” which I wasn’t necessarily sure was an improvement. But the minute that the band came in, I was gone. (And I have to admit that the lower harmony lines, courtesy of Mr. Skib, work so much better for me than the high ones, even though I do really like the studio version.)

He chose to introduce Kiss on the Neck by calling on the couples, and then telling them to visit the merch table instead of listening to the song, because he is a HUCKSTER of the first order. Heh. The reverb was a bit less subtle here, but worked very well. And at one point, he threw us a sidelong glance that was clearly saying “Plz screem nao” and many people happily obliged. (I started laughing, because I like seeing him play people.)

RTTOIN #3: Sometime during this song, I think, Tiemann jumped up on to Peek’s platform to do his thing. Clement had been doing his usual strides back and forth across the stage, but this time he looked like he was coming over and edging downstage into NT’s spot. But because NFT is NFT, he jumped down again and reclaimed it: “Step off, Curly, this mic is mine!”

Make Me seemed far more assured than I’ve heard before, although I still don’t think it’s the ideal arrangement for Cook’s own range. Twas still a fun time.

And then Mr. Sensitive. I got to see it live, y’all. And they TORE through it. I know I saw him beat his chest at one point. And I’m pretty sure this was when Clement and Tiemann did some intense simultaneous headbanging in the middle, so maybe that whole mic spot fight was all in my head. Wouldn’t be the first time. (This is probably the best point at which to mention that L., who knew nothing about the band beforehand, said they reminded her of “bands from the 70s” in terms of the energy they brought on stage. I had to take her word for it, since I wasn’t alive for most of the decade. But she definitely meant it as a compliment.)

Then Cook did his part for democracy by letting the audience vote between Little Lies and Hot for Teacher. I cheered for Little Lies, because a) I think his voice is amazing on it and b) HFT is not my favorite song by a long shot. But I also cheered half-heartedly, because I knew why he was asking. The audience was respectful and grooving, but a typical (in my view) East Coast crowd. Not tons of screaming. And I think he wanted more energy, and figured HFT was the best way to get it. He was right. He moved around, he leaned on Tiemann, he even crouched. So people got their votes’ worth.

At any rate, it would have been worth it just to get the following banter. I can’t say anything about it that would be better than just letting you see it:

And then, of course, they went into CBTM. And. They’re throwing everything they have at it, I will say that. The bass line, in particular, is far more muscular. But nobody’s defense of the song has managed to convince me that my interpretation isn’t the most valid: This is a song about a crappy, dysfunctional relationship that doesn’t merit the (unsustainable) promise of stasis. (The video, thankfully, offers a perspective that suggests something more self-recrimininating and slightly less crappy and dysfunctional, but not enough to make me want those crazy kids to stay together.) But plenty of people bopped along anyway. And hey, I thought “Hey There Delilah” was creepy and smarmtastic and that went on to be a massive hit, so I am clearly no bellwether.

Finally, the lights went down, the crowd stirred, and I was gratified because it looked like some of the college-age guys were the ones to start the encore clap. We all set the roar going, and then came Bar-ba-sol. No lights for the drum intro (which seemed shorter), but damn, 30 seconds in and I. just. didn’t. care. That last “I know just what I did to deserve this” hit me right in the chest. I was giddy.

And then he announced, with a fair degree of control but an even greater degree of gravity, that he was canceling some shows. And when he said he’d only done this once in his entire career, my heart stopped. He didn’t offer an explanation, and I was obviously in no position to ask him. But when it got to the point where he asked us to help him sing the chorus for Light On, it was something that I could do. And so…I did.

This entry was posted on Saturday, April 4th, 2009 at 4:35 pm and is filed under Live Performances. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.