Last night we started a new family #QuarantineActivity. Every night, each of us gets to pick one album side to play. In the interest of preserving it for our own nostalgia, here were last night’s picks:
1. @chadwickstokes and the Pintos, Side A (me)
2. Bob Seger, Greatest Hits, Side 3 (Scott)
3. Mac DeMarco, Salad Days, Side A (E)
4. Earl Sweatshirt, Some Rap Songs, Side A (J)
#Quarantunes
So fun to see Chad Stokes with the kids tonight. A great show, as always! He even played some of their favorites.
I was in a really good mood today. The world seemed bright, I had extra energy and a creative spirit. On paper, it made no sense. I got home late last night from a show at The Crocodile (Chad Stokes, better known to me as the “Barefoot Musician in Your Living Room”.) I got up early and got two kids out the door to school. I should have been exhausted.
Lawerly obligations were on the calendar today, so I put on a suit and met with a potential client. I gave good advice. Every so often, I looked down and noticed the fading stamp on my inside right wrist from last night’s show at The Croc, and it made me smile.
It reminded me of when, in the mid 90’s, my sister and I thought it would be a good idea to get our navels pierced. It hurt like hell and, not being the half-shirt type, I don’t think many people ever knew that I had it done. I was a new lawyer at the time, and it felt like my own private rebellion against navy blue suits and deposition transcripts. I got it taken out when I was pregnant with my oldest child, years later. (The guy asked why I was getting it removed. Apparently my about-to-pop belly wasn’t enough of a clue. He said, “hey, come back after you have the kid, and I’ll put it back in for free”. Alas, I have not returned.)
John Richards of Seattle’s beloved KEXP recently described music as “oxygen”. Perfection. I can’t describe it any better than that. If you don’t understand the lure of live music, you will never get it. But that’s why I was energized today. Music fuels me.
We all wear many hats on a daily basis, with day jobs, obligations and lists. Even when you love what you do, shouldn’t you grab a little extra fuel when you can? A little hint of something that energizes you (peeking out from the edge of your jacket sleeve) can go a long way.
I’ve taken a long absence from the beloved comfort of this blog. Not that I haven’t wanted to sit down and live in my head……write words that I fuss over and then, when I hit “publish”, panic like a young mom dropping her kid off for his first day of preschool. I always want to do that. Over the past few months, though, my life has been consumed with sunshine, family, and work that actually earns money.
But now the rain is here, I’m in modified hermit mode, and, after not seeing any concerts since August, it just so happens that, for the first 2 weeks of November, I have tickets to four different shows. I’m officially calling it Show-vember, and have decided it’s a sign to come home to my little corner of cyberspace.
It’s always interesting how concerts end up getting lumped closely together for me. I can go for a few months without a show, and then it seems that all the shows I want to see are bunched together within a short time frame. I take them on like a musical triathlon – proper pacing being of utmost importance. My personal long-standing record was established in 2001: three different shows in three states, within the span of a week (if it matters: Ben Harper in Seattle, Dave Matthews Band in Las Vegas, and Sting in Chicago. Ben is the only one I listen to anymore).
And so I’m gearing up for some great music from artists that I love, in a month that thumbs its nose at dreary weather with many fabulous things: my birthday, Thanksgiving and the Apple Cup (“We’ve Got a Thing…”). And now, also……The Black Keys, Ben Gibbard, Chadwick Stokes and the White Buffalo. Happy Show-vember to me (and also to you….go to a show, I promise it will make November bearable)!
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Isn’t that what all music fans hope for? I know I do.
I love music, and I enjoy thinking of my favorites as personable, everyday guys who would be fun to hang out with.
For the most part, this theory has proven itself to be true. Encounters with Dave Matthews around town are commonplace, and we all seem to agree that he’s just your average Seattle dad. I used to run into him at my gym, and my husband chatted with him at the Greenlake soccer fields a few weeks back – no biggie, just a couple of dads joking about soccer. I’ve lived in the same city as Eddie Vedder for 20+ years but have yet to see him out and about, so I savor the stories I hear from people who have. I recently read an article where a local fan referenced seeing Eddie in Target and Bed, Bath and Beyond (love it!). Years ago, I ran into Jeff Ament coming out of Blockbuster Video on Queen Anne. He was carrying two movies. I’ve always regretted not asking him what he was renting. But I digress.
The point of this story is that I recently found myself sitting in a living room with Chadwick Stokes of Dispatch and State Radio. It was so lovely to learn that he is just as friendly, warm, and funny as I had imagined him to be.
The quick back story: last summer, Chad announced a “living room tour” — just what it sounds like, he would play a show in your living room to around 30 fans. They were looking for hosts in the cities scheduled on the tour, including Seattle. I offered to host and sent in pictures of my house, and I made it to some type of final list. They called and talked to me about my space, and said they’d be making a decision in a few days. I ultimately didn’t win, which was OK, really – then I wouldn’t have to try to clean my house. The consolation prize was that I would get early access to tickets for the Seattle show.
Fast forward a month, to the ONE 5-day chunk of summer when I was out of range of decent cell coverage, and was not checking email. You guessed it – that’s when the email went out with early access to tickets, and then to the general public, and then promptly sold out. I discovered this while sitting on a ferry on our way home. I was not happy. The last ditch effort was a show in Vancouver, Washington. It appeared that tickets were still available. To put a finer point on it, ONE ticket was available, because that’s exactly how many I was able to purchase. I bought it anyway and figured that something would pan out in order for my sister to come with me. I certainly didn’t want to drive to Vancouver by myself and walk into some stranger’s house. I emailed, desperately, a few times over the coming months, figuring that an additional ticket would open up. It didn’t. I resigned myself to not going.
Then suddenly the show was right around the corner. Over the course of the next few days, I flip-flopped a dozen times until finally, with a proper nudge from my husband, I decided to go. I knew I would regret it if I didn’t.
And so, off I went to Vancouver. Nearly as exciting as a night to myself was a long DRIVE by myself. I played the music I wanted to listen to, as loudly as I wanted. No one bickered in the back seat, and no one asked me to play Taylor Swift. Traffic was blissfully easy, even through the usual snarl of south Tacoma. I giggled to myself when I drove by the Sleater-Kinney exit, listening to Sleater-Kinney. Everything clicked along as planned, as if the universe approved of my decision to go. About an hour outside of Vancouver, I switched to a playlist of solid Chad and State Radio. Because that is what you do.
When I arrived at the house, the host, Jon, looked up my name on his guest list. “Oh, it’s just you – right?” Yep, just me. By myself. Thanks for reminding me. (And I’m probably the only one who just drove up in a minivan with a Little League sticker on it, in case you want to point that out too).
Chad was standing near the check-in table in his bare feet, wearing comfy pants, a well-loved shirt, and a hat. He looked up and said hi. It was perfect.
The rest of the evening was fascinating. Fans bonded and competed for a respectable level of street cred. You know how it goes: T-shirts from historic shows (in this case, Dispatch:Zimbabwe), requests for obscure songs, show-and-venue dropping: “Yeah, I saw them way back in 2000 in a small club in blah-blah-blah”. I loved it all. The music is personal to each of us, and that’s one of the best things about fandom: how territorial we are about the bands we love. I’ve only seen Dispatch/Chad/State Radio four times, and am therefore not (yet) too territorial. Recognizing my somewhat junior status in the street cred department, I enjoyed eavesdropping. Which, it turns out, is easy to do when you are at a show by yourself.
And of course, there was the music – a great mix of classic Dispatch, State Radio, and solo stuff, infused with all the genuine and personal charm you would hope for in such an intimate setting. He stopped mid-song to tell a story about his daughter’s new haircut. He joked about the bony part of the top of his foot, how it’s a thing that “1 in 5” people have (is it?). (I wanted to kick off my boots and say – hey, Chad – me too! There’s a certain style of shoe you can’t wear, right? With the strap across the top? Come on, let’s be bony-foot buddies!) He answered questions and took requests, and when someone jokingly yelled out “Freebird!”, he actually played it. Hilarious and awesome. The room was filled with love.
When it was over, he got down from his stool to go back stage – you know, otherwise known as the kitchen. Fans stood around and chatted with him in an easy, casual way. I shook his hand, thanked him, and told him what a wonderful experience it had been. Luckily, I had already forgotten my sassy, opinionated rant from a year ago (“Territorial Pissings – Yes, That’s a Nirvana Reference”), so I didn’t lecture him on anything. I admit that I did have occasional pangs of jealousy – I wished I had hosted barefoot Chad in MY house – not just for me, but for my kids, because they love his music too. But I’m thankful to have had the opportunity to see him in such a small venue, and I’ll remember it forever.
P.S. I rarely take pictures at shows, and I never take videos, because I don’t want to watch the show through a screen. But Chad said it was OK and I knew it was once-in-a-lifetime, so I recorded the second half of “Elias”. Simply wonderful:
You know what’s cool? Offering a free download of your concert for those who went to the show. I saw Dispatch for the second time last weekend, and I loved being able to download a copy of the show on Monday morning, for free, with the barcode from my ticket.
I was excited that they decided to play Seattle on this tour. Last time, (which we thought was a one-time reunion tour), we had to fly to Berkeley to see them. (“A Badger and a One-Eyed Toad”). But a show at the Moore Theatre meant an easy, well-deserved night out with my sister, and their sing-along vibe is just plain fun – which is, after all, the entire point of live music.
Dispatch enjoys the ubiquitous status of being the “biggest band no one has ever heard of”, and maybe they are. They’ve achieved a loyal fan base without any major record deal, and, despite taking a break and various side projects, they’ve stayed true to their roots as an independent band.
Offering a free download of a live show is a great throwback to the days of tape trading and authorized bootlegs. And, while it might just be a publicity stunt, it makes you feel like like they appreciate the fact that you buy their music and tickets to their concerts.
I give these kudos to Dispatch – freely – but as preface to what I am about to say. I’ll keep listening, and I’ll always buy a ticket when they come to town, but I might need to have a talk with my imaginary friend, lead singer Chad Stokes. (“On Sisters and Pineapple”, “The Pixies, Chad Stokes, and Pineapple”). It seems we might differ on one important Seattle music issue.
It was really a great show….good energy, lots of old favorites. And then, it happened. In between songs, Chad made reference to playing at the Moore Theatre. I can’t remember the exact words, but it went like this: “We’ve gotta pay our respects to Seattle……the Moore Theatre…..hallowed ground for those who have played here before us…..bands like Alice in Chains, Nirvana, Pearl Jam…..”
I suddenly got all territorial and defensive. Really? You are leading with Alice in Chains? I liked them just fine, but….really? You are putting them at the front of a Seattle list that includes Nirvana and Pearl Jam?
You can argue all day about who should be #1 or #2 on the list. And even I will admit that’s is probably Nirvana at the top, if for no other reason than, let’s face it – dying young and tragically elevates you to cult status. (And for the record, do I love Nirvana).
But in no universe would anyone ever put Alice in Chains as #1 on that list. Was he trying to be ironic? Make the non-obvious choice? Or maybe he was just naming them alphabetically. Either way, I was now officially on a rant.
To my sister beside me: “Dude, if you are paying your respects, then pay them properly. It’s Eddie Vedder who scaled the damn walls of the Moore Theatre, thank you very much.” (maybe Kurt and Layne did too, I really have no idea. But I was on a roll.)
I couldn’t stop bitching about it, leaning over, again: “AND! CHAD! In case you haven’t noticed, Layne Staley overdosed, and Kurt blew his brains out. Eddie Vedder’s the only one who’s still around”.
My sister considered this, briefly, but then hit the bullseye: “Yeah, but dude….when’s the last time Pearl Jam even played a show here?” Ouch. I hate it when she’s right.
(P.S. It was September 2009 and, since then, they chose to have their 20th Anniversary Celebration Concert in….Wisconsin, and their most recent gigs have included a festival with Jay-Z (?!), and an Oracle corporate event. Not that I am keeping track.)
(P.P.S. You know you have to go and watch the Moore Theatre-filmed video for “Evenflow” now, right? Best line, at the beginning: “This is not a TV studio….Josh! Turn these lights out. It’s a f*cking rock concert!”)
A strange combination, right? Here is the backstory: I pay a lot of attention to things that are not really worthy of my attention. It is probably not the most efficient use of my time, but still, I am slightly obsessed with signs, and the inter-connectedness of things…..people, events, music. I wrote a blog post recently about my son’s take on a Pixies song that seemed to be following me. (“Oh, There is My Mind”).
Although I love the idea of signs, I rarely follow them. To wit: I once thought that the discovery of my old Joshua Tree tee shirt was a sign that I should re-consider my decision to not attend the U2 concert. (“A 1987 Bono for the New Year”). That stupid tee shirt might very well have been a sign, but ultimately I didn’t follow it, even when, the night before the show, I had access to a ticket. I also was once sure that a song at a wedding was beckoning me back to France (“Book the Villa, it’s a Sign”), but that hasn’t happened yet, either. C’est la vie.
Spotty history aside, even if you are not a “sign” kind of person, you’ve got to admit that the following signs from last Saturday are enough to make you scratch your head. I’m not committing to follow through on anything, but it does make me wonder what The Pixies, Chad Stokes, and pineapple have in common, and what they might be trying to tell me.
SATURDAY SIGN #1
I had tickets that night to see Chad Stokes (from Dispatch and State Radio) play with his new band at a small club. I’ve always had an imaginary friendship with Chad, because he looks like a friend of my sister’s who brought a pineapple to my wedding. (“On Sisters and Pineapple”). I love everything about pineapples – their symbolism of hospitality, the fact that they hail from Hawaii, and that they remind me of my wedding day.
My sister texted me to have fun at the show and to say hi to Chad for her. I responded that maybe I should bring him a pineapple. A few hours later, what do I find at a thrift store — a small wooden pineapple. Spooky, right? I bought it, of course. I had two other wooden pineapples at home that were screaming to become a trio. (Sorry, Chad).
SATURDAY SIGN #2
Pineapple in place with its two other buddies, we headed out for appetizers and drinks before the show. My husband had not yet read my Pixies-related blog post, so he sat and read it while we waited. “Good post,” he said, and we started talking about the kids (this is what all parents talk about on their nights out, yes?) Without missing a beat, the song came on. That’s right — the “creepy” song — “Where Is My Mind?” — again. Third time in only a few days. It’s not that common of a song, is it? Why will this song not leave me alone?
We looked at each other – “Hmph. Strange…..”, but ultimately did not reach any conclusions about the meaning of this occurrence, and we headed out to the show. And it was a lovely show…..very small venue, a great combination of Chad’s new songs, State Radio songs, and Dispatch songs….including one of my favorites, “Elias”, as an encore. The rest of the evening was, blissfully, pineapple and Pixies-free.
So what does it all mean? That I really have lost my mind? That I should go to Hawaii? That I need a weekend away with my sisters? I’m still mulling over the possibilities — you know, for a Sign that, ultimately, I will not follow.
I am a list maker by nature. Even if I don’t have it written down somewhere, I have the list in my head. In my head is a list of bands that I like, but have never seen in concert. The only band left on that list is Dispatch, and I thought they would likely stay there, because they broke up long ago and moved on to other projects.
And so, back in January when Dispatch announced a reunion tour, I was all over it. I figured I could talk someone into going with me. The weekend is finally here, and I am headed to San Francisco today with my youngest sister for a weekend of music and fun.
She should be invested in Dispatch by now, because I’ve dragged her to see State Radio, Chad Stokes’ post-Dispatch band. (“There Will be Vodka”). Chad looks like a friend of hers who brought me a pineapple as a wedding present. In some odd way, this makes me feel like I know Chad. And he, too, seems like he would bring someone a pineapple. It really was a sweet, simple gesture. I don’t know whatever became of the pineapple. Most likely it went the route of the leftover booze from the wedding, which is to say that it was consumed by my middle sister and my husband’s brother. We arrived home from our honeymoon to discover that they were now a couple.
Perhaps they ate the celebratory pineapple, and it brought them good luck. They are now married and expecting their second child in a few weeks. I really hope that baby stays put, and isn’t born while I am far away. It seems strange for two of us to be going without her. My sisters and I made an agreement a few years ago to forego birthday presents for each other, but to make sure that we got away together on weekend trips, concerts, and the like. Life gets in the way and we haven’t always been successful, but we try.
It’s bittersweet, but I am still excited to be heading of of town, and she will be there with us in spirit. The concert on Saturday night will be great, I’m sure I will get my Concert Moment, (“Oh, You Like the Banjo, Eh?”), and I will delete the list of Favorite-Yet-Unseen bands from my head.
But regardless, you can’t go wrong with San Francisco. My husband lived there before we got married, and it is the site of many great memories. We both love the city so much that, immediately after our Seattle mountainside wedding, we flew to San Francisco for our wedding night, and left for our honeymoon the next morning. As I am writing this, I am now realizing that it will also be weird to be in that city without him.
Pineapples, live music, sisters, weddings, babies….think it’s possible I am putting too much nostalgia pressure on the weekend? I’m pretty sure there is not enough room in the overhead compartment for all of this, but I will try to cram it in anyway.
I bought the tickets before she actually agreed, but I had hoped that I could talk my sister into attending a State Radio show with me, scheduled for this coming March.
Luckily, she said she was in — with the caveat that, since the show is on a Wednesday, she might take the next day off, since I will be “pushing” vodka tonics on her during the show. (This, apparently in reference to the last time we went to the ShowBox – where, I should add, she was a willing participant. (Buttercup! Buttercup!)).
I am a big fan of Dispatch….. I dig Chad Stokes, and State Radio is his post-Dispatch band, so I am excited to see them. They opened for John Butler Trio at the Paramount last Spring, and I ran into Chad in the lobby after their set. But I was too chicken to go up to him – and would probably have said something dorky like “I like your music”, or even dorkier (or maybe not), “my 6 year old daughter loves your music”. (“You Know I Would”).
So maybe I will run into Chad again, and this time actually say something. And maybe after the show, I can talk my sister into going to the Dispatch reunion show with me in Berkeley in June. Either way, a night out with her is a guaranteed good time, and yes, dear sister, there will be vodka.
Corduroy Notes 