Those of us here in the Good Night, States camp have spent the last two weekends at home. After five straight weeks of pre-release band related flurry, the time to sleep in, clean house, catch up on laundry and good books, and get ready to pay taxes has been a welcome relief. I’ve had a chance to remember that I own a struggling restaurant, and that without my commitment it might fade out of existence. An important marriage lives in our house, and this extra time has been good for it too.
I must admit, though, that the weekends feel a little empty without shows, songwriting, or travel. I’m not entirely certain what to do with myself. The internet leers at me, a veritable temptation. I’ve already lost several hours to it today, searching for music blogs and listening to mp3s. Oh yeah, and getting mired in the Maxim Black Crowes review scandal. Thankfully no one gave Short Films on Self-Control two stars before listening to it. Actually, no one has given it two stars after reviewing it either!
Trevor and I went to see St. Vincent on Monday night at the Andy Warhol Museum. Watching other artists perform has recently taken on a new layer of intensity. I empathize with their sound problems, equipment malfunctions, and stage awkwardness. I am transported with heavenly awe when every pedal aligns to help shred a vintage guitar into a million tiny sonic pieces. I tear apart the crowd for their blase reaction to the music; then decide we are a big family when the room jumps to its feet in appreciation, as in the Warhol’s tiny theatre on Monday night for Annie Clark.
You can read Aaron Jentzen’s review of the show here. What he doesn’t mention, I will fill in: she plays with more guitar pedals than Steve and Joe combined - two large boards! Her long skinny limbs - all four of them - twitch and writhe in a ferocious bird dance when she rips apart her guitar, yet the girl remains porcelain-doll feminine for every second of every solo. Not a drop of sweat on her designer babydoll dress, not a lock of hair-model hair out of place, not just a little wide eyed humor laced with sticky sweet sarcasm. She has been touring with various musician relatives since the age of fourteen; played with the Polyphonic Spree and Sufjan; and now offers a brilliant debut album. Her skin is perfect. She is twenty five.
I guess you’re going to go look at St. Vincent’s website now.
Good Night, States will see you next weekend in Nyack, NY for a slightly acoustic show!
Tags: other musicians