If I had a memory, which I haven’t, but if I had, last night would be indelibly etched upon it. The worst laid plans, somehow coming together into the best evening. Maybe you appreciate things more when until the last moment you think they shan’t happen… But then again, any night that begins with you running out of the office to catch the last possible train to a place you’ve never been, meeting some people, only one of whom you’ve kind of met previously, then driving two hours to another pseudo-country to watch a show, has to be a good night.
It was a good night. You know you’re in Wales when the opening singer’s name is Ffred Jones, spelled just like that. But we won’t hold it against him. Not when he writes such simple and lovely acoustic pop songs. What we will hold against him is his ending every song with ‘Thanks again guys,’ and beginning every song, and I mean every song, with ‘Check it out.’ Said as if he wants really badly to be a laid back surfer. ‘So I have a new website running, you guys should check it out. This is my next song. Check it out.’ Or beat me over the head with a plug wrench. But buy him a new personality and maybe he could go somewhere. Or maybe this is all in my mind. Maybe it’s not so bad. Maybe I just hate redundancy above all things.
Right. Get him off the stage. Sabotage his acoustic guitar if you have to. Make room for the cute, chic New York singer songwriter. Seriously. She was cute. And chic. But the charm ended there. There was less than any engagement with the audience. The majority of talking during her set was done over our heads, pleading with the technicians to fix some element of the setting. Shame too, ‘cause I still have the song ‘Sea Green, See Blue’ stuck in my head. Remind me and I’ll send it to you. It’s that good. If you’re into chill lullabies. Which I am. But despite that, after her set it was more of a missed opportunity than anything and we turned to each other and whispered, ‘a little high maintenance…’ I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt though and say she’s just not a people person. Was even uncomfortable on stage. It’s her misfortune though that combined with her dress style and complaints about the sound and lighting, she came off as more a snob. Shame. Talk to us Jaymay! Down here in the crowd! Talk to the masses! Let us know you care! Right here in front of you! Hello? Jaymay? No… She’s not listening. Oh well, her loss.
It’s ok. There’s a reason she wasn’t headlining. They were. You know. Okkervil River. From Austin! And here we are in Cardiff. Wales! It’s like my people came all this way to find me and take me back home on the wings of any beautiful song. I’m squirming in my seat as I type this. In my mind, I’m gesticulating and nodding enthusiastically as I attempt to describe the brilliance of this show. But instead I prob’ly just look really peculiar sitting here talking to myself and nodding. And not typing anything about the show. I’m grinning at the computer right now, and I don’t quite know why… Point is, they found it last night. Whatever could possibly have been lost, was found. Who are these guys? Never pigeon hole them as an acoustically driven, eclectic, folk rock outfit. This was jump up and down, nearly hit some fan in the face with your guitar, rock music. Well, maybe not jump up and down, except in the more exciting moments, but regardless, I couldn’t stand still. There’s just too much happening onstage at an Okkervil River show. ‘What a lovely song this is, his dark vocals over that driving acoustic guitar, with the keyboard overlaying it, no, wait, the mandolin’s the key here, how it blends with the accordion and takes its cue from the steel pedal guitar, but then, of course, there’s an intricate harmony as the brass section settles in to the xylophone’s melody, hypnotically overriding the bass, while they’re tied together by the… Korg?’ Somehow it all makes sense when they’re playing it. But don’t try and describe it.
‘Cause you can’t.
Right. Get him off the stage. Sabotage his acoustic guitar if you have to. Make room for the cute, chic New York singer songwriter. Seriously. She was cute. And chic. But the charm ended there. There was less than any engagement with the audience. The majority of talking during her set was done over our heads, pleading with the technicians to fix some element of the setting. Shame too, ‘cause I still have the song ‘Sea Green, See Blue’ stuck in my head. Remind me and I’ll send it to you. It’s that good. If you’re into chill lullabies. Which I am. But despite that, after her set it was more of a missed opportunity than anything and we turned to each other and whispered, ‘a little high maintenance…’ I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt though and say she’s just not a people person. Was even uncomfortable on stage. It’s her misfortune though that combined with her dress style and complaints about the sound and lighting, she came off as more a snob. Shame. Talk to us Jaymay! Down here in the crowd! Talk to the masses! Let us know you care! Right here in front of you! Hello? Jaymay? No… She’s not listening. Oh well, her loss.
It’s ok. There’s a reason she wasn’t headlining. They were. You know. Okkervil River. From Austin! And here we are in Cardiff. Wales! It’s like my people came all this way to find me and take me back home on the wings of any beautiful song. I’m squirming in my seat as I type this. In my mind, I’m gesticulating and nodding enthusiastically as I attempt to describe the brilliance of this show. But instead I prob’ly just look really peculiar sitting here talking to myself and nodding. And not typing anything about the show. I’m grinning at the computer right now, and I don’t quite know why… Point is, they found it last night. Whatever could possibly have been lost, was found. Who are these guys? Never pigeon hole them as an acoustically driven, eclectic, folk rock outfit. This was jump up and down, nearly hit some fan in the face with your guitar, rock music. Well, maybe not jump up and down, except in the more exciting moments, but regardless, I couldn’t stand still. There’s just too much happening onstage at an Okkervil River show. ‘What a lovely song this is, his dark vocals over that driving acoustic guitar, with the keyboard overlaying it, no, wait, the mandolin’s the key here, how it blends with the accordion and takes its cue from the steel pedal guitar, but then, of course, there’s an intricate harmony as the brass section settles in to the xylophone’s melody, hypnotically overriding the bass, while they’re tied together by the… Korg?’ Somehow it all makes sense when they’re playing it. But don’t try and describe it.
‘Cause you can’t.
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