Shows This Weekend

There's only one right way to kick off Rocktober: first weekend, 3 shows in 3 nights. Fall is always the best time to go to shows, and there certainly has been a lot going on lately. And I dig it.

Fri 10/2: Brand New w/ Manchester Orchestra, the Fillmore (Detroit)

I'm somewhat stoked to say, yet somewhat hesitant to admit that I might have known about this show before any of you guys: because I am on Manchester Orchestra's mailing list. Please take in everything else I am about to say about this show with that very telling fact in mind. Yes, MO is my favorite of many favorite bands. But I am trying, at least in this context, to maintain any attainable level of neutrality. Just so you know.
So... 3 hours of driving, a clandestine detour in Ann Arbor, and a $20 ramp parking fee (damn you, Fillmore, for being across the street from Comerica Park on game night) later, Manchester took the stage. Their frontman, singer/ songwriter/ guitar player/ indie caricature Andy Hull possesses this kind of Thoreauvian wildness that makes this band so ungodly addicting to see live; I could not imagine anyone else who would look as at-home as an Alaskan crabfisherman, or living in a schoolbus a la Gary Busey in Black Sheep, as he does onstage. But I guess that's neither here nor there. What matters is they fucking rocked, and always do, but-- in the immortal words of a nameless American icon-- that's all I have to say about that.
Excuse me while I pause to sweep up any remaining shreds of credibility so that I may continue. Thanks.
What I really want to talk about is Brand New's performance. I'm not quite sure how to say this, but what happened from 10:05 until about 11:20 pm EST at the Fillmore, was something that was so gut-wrenchingly, soul-crushingly, traumatically beautiful that part of me feels like it should never happen again. But that would be so wrong.
I'm trying to think of a way to tell you what it feels like to see Brand New. Actually, I've been trying for days. So imagine a rioting crowd, all flannel-covered elbows and stomping Chuck Taylors, juxtaposed against a low-lit stage, the enigmatic Jesse Lacey in the middle, gripping his Telecaster like a machine gun; projected behind it all is a surreal black-and-white slideshow-esque film. Almost too many dimensions of amazing.
I immediately felt guilty for-- yikes-- not liking their new album. But I was pleasantly surprised when they opened with "You Won't Know" and wove a cleverly anachronistic set list which I wanted to share with you now, but it didn't feel right to write it down. Needless to say, that night was just one of those nights where you fall in love with music all over again.
Music, I wish I knew how to quit you.

A.D.D. Sidenote: in between sets, I ran into Jeremiah, the drummer from Manchester!!! Ever the annoying fan, I hugged him and basically thanked him for being so awesome... my best friend and I Wayne-and-Garthified and the resulting conversation basically went something like, "Jeremiah, we're not worthy!!!" But he was unbelievably humble and nice. Amazing.
The requisite post-show 12,000-calorie Greektown visit and coma that commenced make that night's memories a little foggy, but needless to say... that show... Wow. Ridiculous.
Hopefully by the time I'm a real writer I'll think of better ways to say things than that.

Sat 10/3: Rootstand at Bell's (Kalamazoo)

The story of Saturday night is more of a... story... than just a show. I'll explain.
One of my housemates is a banjo player (legit!) and has been in a few bluegrass bands around Kalamazoo, so, luckily, when the occasion arises, I often have an excuse to go to bluegrass shows. I have to admit the bluegrass culture in Kalamazoo was something I was not very familiar until this summer, especially with the college crowd, but I am pleased to have found reassurance that there will be hippies-- and resulting mountain-bluegrass jam seshes-- in every generation. And, after all, it's about the music and not the scene, right? So it's ok to sometimes succumb to one's various hippie persuasions.
Before you laugh, if you have never experienced a legit bluegrass SHOW-- let alone a festival-- there is nothing quite like being out there two-stepping with the hippies. It's amazing. Bluegrass is a lot like ska in that if you're there, you're a (bluegrass/ ska)-PERSON: you're a fan, you know the music, you (two-step/ skank), you're starting a band next week, that's your thing. So don't judge yourself if you want to grab a frosty microbrew and load up the Forester to go to the festie and rage some kind nugs. It's ok. You've always wanted to, right? And that's what bluegrass is about. It just feels good.
So, Saturday night. I'm sitting at my apartment reading and another housemate knocks on my door, hammered, and asks if I'm going to Bells tonight. I was vaguely confused, but game (such is my life). What commenced was an interesting night with a lot of interesting details that might not be appropriate to publish here.
Oh shit, I promised you a story. Well, Drunk Neighbor got kicked out of Bell's, and since I never leave a homie hangin', I took him back home. But I went back. Cause Rootstand had another set.
The tunes were AMAZING... With that traditional Southern bluegrass stomp and Rootstand's adorable weirdness (like "Disc Golf Life": you can download here [http://www.rootstand.com/index.php?ppge=music]), you'll be out there throwing your 'bows up and steppin' in no time. At the very least, you are almost guaranteed to make friends-- among mine that night were an old Deadhead named Angel (yes, a guy) and a Chicagoan (?) college-hippie who was on a Great Lakes brewery tour with his buddies. Awesome.
Suffice it to say, I would highly, highly recommend getting out to see Rootstand--or any bluegrass show-- if you get a chance. Even if you think it's not your thing. You never know, brah!


Sun 10/4: Lake Louise at the Factory (Rochester)

While I, admittedly, completely abandoned any neutrality/ cred and geeked out over my favorite band in a medium that I would like to be somewhat professional, I simply cannot discuss this show from any critical standpoint, as Lake Louise is a stagename for a very good friend of mine. However, I must give credit where credit is due: many, many props to Lake Louise for holding her own as a (1.) female (2.) solo (3.) FOLK act. Indulge me for a brief moment while I comment on the refreshing ingenuity of those virtues in and of themselves. The resulting music possesses everything good about 60s protest-folk with a Fiona Apple-esque femininity, and a little reluctant country-ness. You may check her out at [http://www.myspace.com/angelacarlton].
Needless to say, anoher good night. And you're probably not in the mood for another story, but moments ago, I nutshelled it to a friend as, "I met an old guy from New Zealand, an old guy from England, and a roadie for Miley Cyrus at an Irish pub in Detroit." And that's how that night went.

So those were the shows this weekend. PS: pretty sure I'm going deaf.

Please stay updated for WIDR's BARKING TUNA FESTIVAL coverage this weekend! I will be at all three shows, so until then, check out what's going on on WIDR and their site [http://www.widr.org/].

-thejunkie