It's time
to go home
This is my first attempt at a concert review. As I once remember Jerry Garcia stating in an interview that a review of a concert was limited to that particular person's experience of it, than this will be my experience of the February 18, 2007 concert I experienced at Montbleu Resort in Stateline with headliner Spearhead and opening act Keller Williams.
The beginning of the experience started when back in December I went onto the My Space page of Spearhead and saw that they were going to do a show in Tahoe. Living out this way, we don't get a lot of groups out here that I generally like, or want to pay the price to see. I went through a phase earlier on that allowed me to see 120 Grateful Dead show, 30 Phish shows, and an uncounted amount of local experiences with groups in San Diego like the Cardiff Reefers, so that I was getting to see a large amount of live music in my younger days - particularly in my 20's and early 30's. Since then, and since the monumental event of Jerry Garica's passing, it has cut down a bit, especially after my daughter's birth - and since moving to the Reno, Nevada vicinity I have been to 3 concerts (not counting those lame snoozer groups you see in the park that are an amplified sleeping pill) - and those have been Los Lobos, Maria De Barros, and now this one. That is quite a drop off. When my own music is working for me and I can get past the inevitable out of tune notes that come out of my mouth and my guitar, I can get into quite a nice state of mind, so I think in my older age it has not been as much of a need in my life. Earlier on, especially in my single days without a family, the Grateful Dead was my church and religious gathering. I know some people will never get it, but for those who have experienced it - when the group was really on and the sound was right, it was like a collective state of ecstasy that came closer to an experience of God than anything I had ever known.
Before this concert ever even happened, planning and coordination took a lot of time. Since I was in the process of switching employers, I had to make sure I had accumulated enough time to take a day off, as I knew the day after was going to be exhausting. Also - on a Sunday night, knowing you have to be at work the next day has a way of distracting from the present experience. So once I got the go ahead there, the next task was figuring out where Sara was going to stay. Our friends in north Carson City seemed like the first logical choice, but since she has been getting along with their daughter less and less of late, and has never made it once a full night away from home (and then the issue of who would watch over the animals here) it finally made more sense to fork out the equivalent of the cost of another concert ticket to have a baby sitter camp out for almost 8 hours here instead. I think her home surroundings were a comfort to her, and that turned out to be a great call - and credit my wife for that one.
The next task was planning out the weather - as it was supposed to snow that night - and I gambled on taking the temporary rental not equipped to deal with the snow - and that was a little bit of a regret on the drive back home when the "chains and snow tires required on 50" sign was flashing, but it turned out going slow and driving in a state of agitated paranoia was all that was required there. I also had to drop off a piece of artwork for evaluation for my job on the way there, but that turned out to be okay. For whatever reason, the time before a concert always makes me a little nervous. I want to get there, stake out my "spot" like a dog stakes out territory and get a feel for the venue, where the bathrooms are, where the concession stands are - just the way I am. The time before a Grateful Dead show was always a great state of agitation for me, for anyone like Mr. L knows who has attended one with me. We got there at 8 - right when the opening act was supposed to come on, saw the "sold out" sign at the will call, and we found a place pretty close to the stage on the next level from the floor, a little closer to the left speaker than I would have preferred, but one that enabled Victoria to see the stage and that made her happy. I saw my favorite local radio host there "Anthony Postman" who does the reggae show on the PBS radio station every Thursday night, and we also ended up near the people who sold me my valentine tie-dye shirt that I wore and had bought at Earth Day in Reno about 2 years ago.
So 8 turned to 8:30 before Keller came on, and it was a little ominous to hear him say I will be with you for about an hour, because doing the math, that meant it was going to be a pretty long night. Initially, he reminded me of Leo Kottke, a guitar wizard, and he had the hippy beard and shaking head that appealed to all the hippies who were in attendance. This crowd came closer to matching a Phish crowd than any show I had seen for a while, and the familiar smell of marijuana filled the air - and although it has been close to 8 years since I have inhaled or even wanted to, I still find it to be a comforting aroma that I associate with the Grateful Dead (speaking of which his version of Saint Stephen was the first I ever got to experience live). I would have liked it if he stuck to the guitar, but it was when he tried to get fancy and do numerous tape loops to get a band sound going that he bordered on irritation pretty quickly. Other than Saint Stephen and a pretty decent version of Hendrix's the Wind Cries Mary, it got to be redundant quickly. Honestly, I have never been down with the whole idea of an opening act - all my Dead and Phish shows for the most part did not have one, and I come to see the headliner anyways. I think the headliner should have 2 sets of music, but instead we sat through it and looking over at my wife's face, I started to notice that she looked pretty damn miserable, like someone had just wiped dog-crap on her cheeks. One more thing - anyone who whistles through a speaker system may think they are cute, but the effect it has on the ears is up there with fingernails on a chalkboard. This guy actually gave my wife bad dreams later that night. So I snuck out at the end of his set to get some soft drinks, including my Red Bull which was going to get me through the evening since I am way too old to stay up late unassisted any more.
They had an interesting contest where 3 people came up and read letters in front of Michael Franti criticizing the president and the war, including a lady whose grandson had died there. It would have been nicer if it was not at 10:20 when the last letter was read, only to here him say we will come back in a "few minutes" for some music, meaning the first song played by them - and listed as a title here "It's Time to Go Home" came on at 10:40 at night, when it really felt to an old man like me like it was time to go home.
As far as Michael Franti goes - he is a great performer with some very inspired songs and he did about half of the songs from "Yell Fire" which I think is a great album, mixing criticism of war with a plea and urge for human beings to live together in peace, love and tolerance. He jumped around - and got the audience to follow him jumping in a lemming like fashion. All of his band was pretty talented. The sound system was a little on the muddy side as close as we were, and it was much easier to understand him when he just went acoustic and turned down the volume a bit. He had the audience participation song, where a heavy set hippie who looked like she was bra less came out of the audience to sing lead vocals at Franti's request and then about 30 people danced on stage, before they were politely thrown off of it for the next one. I liked the effect of "Light up your Lighter" (I posted the lyrics here earlier on a few months ago) - when the lights went dark and all of the pot head hippies had there lighters on as a tribute for the troops to come back home - I thought that worked well. There was one about the stars that light your way home, with the improvised "Tahoe" word thrown in. I would have liked to see one called "One Step Closer" which I still have running on my My Space page, but that was not to be and we left before the encore anyways - but overall - it felt good to be at a hippie show again, he has a great stage presence and charisma, and Franti really seems alive up there while performing, when you know after over 20 years of doing this and repeating songs night after night he must be a little burned out - it certainly did not show.
So after making it home in the snow and unwinding, and letting the Red Bull wear off, I got to bed at 2:30 and had interrupted 4 hours of sleep, which left me predictably feeling like a zombie the next day and paved the way for the cold I caught. I was out of it during the week - I left my camera home on Tuesday, left the dog food I had purchased at the vet sitting by my car the next day - and it is clear that late night shows get harder and harder to take the older I get. I wrote a thank you note to Franti's My Space page, which apparently was not good enough to actually be posted or get a response, but such is life - not everyone who performs is like Maria De Barros - who actually wrote back to me twice - the two e-mails I sent her - I guess not every musician can take the time to do that, which makes it all that much more appreciated when it does happen. Over all - even though I enjoyed it - it was a relief to be done with it - a relief to unload in the urinal the piss my bladder was holding in for the entire show, a relief not to be herded in with a bunch of sweaty, drunk and drug infested hippies - a relief not to have to play offensive line blocker with everyone who intruded upon my space in the middle of the concert. In other words - even though it was fun, the older I get, the more of an ordeal it seems to be. At a time past midnight, at this point in my life, it really was long overdue as a time to go home, and now writing this from home, it is good to be here.
This is my first attempt at a concert review. As I once remember Jerry Garcia stating in an interview that a review of a concert was limited to that particular person's experience of it, than this will be my experience of the February 18, 2007 concert I experienced at Montbleu Resort in Stateline with headliner Spearhead and opening act Keller Williams.
The beginning of the experience started when back in December I went onto the My Space page of Spearhead and saw that they were going to do a show in Tahoe. Living out this way, we don't get a lot of groups out here that I generally like, or want to pay the price to see. I went through a phase earlier on that allowed me to see 120 Grateful Dead show, 30 Phish shows, and an uncounted amount of local experiences with groups in San Diego like the Cardiff Reefers, so that I was getting to see a large amount of live music in my younger days - particularly in my 20's and early 30's. Since then, and since the monumental event of Jerry Garica's passing, it has cut down a bit, especially after my daughter's birth - and since moving to the Reno, Nevada vicinity I have been to 3 concerts (not counting those lame snoozer groups you see in the park that are an amplified sleeping pill) - and those have been Los Lobos, Maria De Barros, and now this one. That is quite a drop off. When my own music is working for me and I can get past the inevitable out of tune notes that come out of my mouth and my guitar, I can get into quite a nice state of mind, so I think in my older age it has not been as much of a need in my life. Earlier on, especially in my single days without a family, the Grateful Dead was my church and religious gathering. I know some people will never get it, but for those who have experienced it - when the group was really on and the sound was right, it was like a collective state of ecstasy that came closer to an experience of God than anything I had ever known.
Before this concert ever even happened, planning and coordination took a lot of time. Since I was in the process of switching employers, I had to make sure I had accumulated enough time to take a day off, as I knew the day after was going to be exhausting. Also - on a Sunday night, knowing you have to be at work the next day has a way of distracting from the present experience. So once I got the go ahead there, the next task was figuring out where Sara was going to stay. Our friends in north Carson City seemed like the first logical choice, but since she has been getting along with their daughter less and less of late, and has never made it once a full night away from home (and then the issue of who would watch over the animals here) it finally made more sense to fork out the equivalent of the cost of another concert ticket to have a baby sitter camp out for almost 8 hours here instead. I think her home surroundings were a comfort to her, and that turned out to be a great call - and credit my wife for that one.
The next task was planning out the weather - as it was supposed to snow that night - and I gambled on taking the temporary rental not equipped to deal with the snow - and that was a little bit of a regret on the drive back home when the "chains and snow tires required on 50" sign was flashing, but it turned out going slow and driving in a state of agitated paranoia was all that was required there. I also had to drop off a piece of artwork for evaluation for my job on the way there, but that turned out to be okay. For whatever reason, the time before a concert always makes me a little nervous. I want to get there, stake out my "spot" like a dog stakes out territory and get a feel for the venue, where the bathrooms are, where the concession stands are - just the way I am. The time before a Grateful Dead show was always a great state of agitation for me, for anyone like Mr. L knows who has attended one with me. We got there at 8 - right when the opening act was supposed to come on, saw the "sold out" sign at the will call, and we found a place pretty close to the stage on the next level from the floor, a little closer to the left speaker than I would have preferred, but one that enabled Victoria to see the stage and that made her happy. I saw my favorite local radio host there "Anthony Postman" who does the reggae show on the PBS radio station every Thursday night, and we also ended up near the people who sold me my valentine tie-dye shirt that I wore and had bought at Earth Day in Reno about 2 years ago.
So 8 turned to 8:30 before Keller came on, and it was a little ominous to hear him say I will be with you for about an hour, because doing the math, that meant it was going to be a pretty long night. Initially, he reminded me of Leo Kottke, a guitar wizard, and he had the hippy beard and shaking head that appealed to all the hippies who were in attendance. This crowd came closer to matching a Phish crowd than any show I had seen for a while, and the familiar smell of marijuana filled the air - and although it has been close to 8 years since I have inhaled or even wanted to, I still find it to be a comforting aroma that I associate with the Grateful Dead (speaking of which his version of Saint Stephen was the first I ever got to experience live). I would have liked it if he stuck to the guitar, but it was when he tried to get fancy and do numerous tape loops to get a band sound going that he bordered on irritation pretty quickly. Other than Saint Stephen and a pretty decent version of Hendrix's the Wind Cries Mary, it got to be redundant quickly. Honestly, I have never been down with the whole idea of an opening act - all my Dead and Phish shows for the most part did not have one, and I come to see the headliner anyways. I think the headliner should have 2 sets of music, but instead we sat through it and looking over at my wife's face, I started to notice that she looked pretty damn miserable, like someone had just wiped dog-crap on her cheeks. One more thing - anyone who whistles through a speaker system may think they are cute, but the effect it has on the ears is up there with fingernails on a chalkboard. This guy actually gave my wife bad dreams later that night. So I snuck out at the end of his set to get some soft drinks, including my Red Bull which was going to get me through the evening since I am way too old to stay up late unassisted any more.
They had an interesting contest where 3 people came up and read letters in front of Michael Franti criticizing the president and the war, including a lady whose grandson had died there. It would have been nicer if it was not at 10:20 when the last letter was read, only to here him say we will come back in a "few minutes" for some music, meaning the first song played by them - and listed as a title here "It's Time to Go Home" came on at 10:40 at night, when it really felt to an old man like me like it was time to go home.
As far as Michael Franti goes - he is a great performer with some very inspired songs and he did about half of the songs from "Yell Fire" which I think is a great album, mixing criticism of war with a plea and urge for human beings to live together in peace, love and tolerance. He jumped around - and got the audience to follow him jumping in a lemming like fashion. All of his band was pretty talented. The sound system was a little on the muddy side as close as we were, and it was much easier to understand him when he just went acoustic and turned down the volume a bit. He had the audience participation song, where a heavy set hippie who looked like she was bra less came out of the audience to sing lead vocals at Franti's request and then about 30 people danced on stage, before they were politely thrown off of it for the next one. I liked the effect of "Light up your Lighter" (I posted the lyrics here earlier on a few months ago) - when the lights went dark and all of the pot head hippies had there lighters on as a tribute for the troops to come back home - I thought that worked well. There was one about the stars that light your way home, with the improvised "Tahoe" word thrown in. I would have liked to see one called "One Step Closer" which I still have running on my My Space page, but that was not to be and we left before the encore anyways - but overall - it felt good to be at a hippie show again, he has a great stage presence and charisma, and Franti really seems alive up there while performing, when you know after over 20 years of doing this and repeating songs night after night he must be a little burned out - it certainly did not show.
So after making it home in the snow and unwinding, and letting the Red Bull wear off, I got to bed at 2:30 and had interrupted 4 hours of sleep, which left me predictably feeling like a zombie the next day and paved the way for the cold I caught. I was out of it during the week - I left my camera home on Tuesday, left the dog food I had purchased at the vet sitting by my car the next day - and it is clear that late night shows get harder and harder to take the older I get. I wrote a thank you note to Franti's My Space page, which apparently was not good enough to actually be posted or get a response, but such is life - not everyone who performs is like Maria De Barros - who actually wrote back to me twice - the two e-mails I sent her - I guess not every musician can take the time to do that, which makes it all that much more appreciated when it does happen. Over all - even though I enjoyed it - it was a relief to be done with it - a relief to unload in the urinal the piss my bladder was holding in for the entire show, a relief not to be herded in with a bunch of sweaty, drunk and drug infested hippies - a relief not to have to play offensive line blocker with everyone who intruded upon my space in the middle of the concert. In other words - even though it was fun, the older I get, the more of an ordeal it seems to be. At a time past midnight, at this point in my life, it really was long overdue as a time to go home, and now writing this from home, it is good to be here.
posted by Zook at 9:56 AM
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