June's coda, part 2

Taping started off as a means to relive the shows I had gone to (by artists kind enough to allow it) but over the years it's turned into a great way to *discover* bands as well - many through recommendations from friends and fellow tapers. But due to the nature of taping - having to set up early, deal with security, beat the crowds to the sweet spot in the venue - I'm often among the earliest to arrive at a venue, and as a result, sit through the opener or openers. Some, like Cyclone Fence, are only memorable for their all-out awfulness, their combination of rusty-nail-to-the-eardrum caterwauling and jarring guitar crunch. Others are passable but nobody I'd pay money to see again if they came through on their own. Then there's the rare artist that comes along that makes me decide I need to get out even more and see them on their own.

I first saw Erin McKeown opening for Matt Nathanson at the Paradise in February of '04. She walked out on stage, all five-feet-nothing of her, with her Gretsch guitar and nothing else. Not everyone in the crowd may have been there to see her, but she started singing and strumming and my toe started tapping immediately. A little folk, a little pop, a little rockabilly, and a whole lot of engaging music. By the time her set was over around a half-hour later, I was hooked. Bought her album (Grand) and listened to it a good deal right away, but was a bit thrown by the fact that she played with a whole band on her album. I saw her two months later in Somerville, also an opening gig, but this time she had a drummer and keyboard player with her, and everything sounded much like it did on the album. I'd still love to see another show - full-length - with just her and her guitar, but in the absence of that, I was happy to see that not only would she be playing a full-length show, but that she would be playing the record release party for her new album at the Paradise, followed by a show up in Portland the night following.

A minor digression - Erin not only allows her shows to be recorded, but also posts a list of recorded shows on her web site, so that people can get in touch with the tapers and get copies of the shows. When I submitted the February 2004 show, I sent along a track listing, but one track's name escaped me because I couldn't find lyrics for it anywhere. For lack of a better title, I tentatively gave it the name "We Will Become Like Birds", after the last line of the chorus. Her response: "track 7 is untitled... we'll leave it with your title. congratulations. best to you, erin mckeown."

The new album comes out, and the track name has been changed to "Air" (the first word in the song). The album itself? We Will Become Like Birds.

Mrs. Dave decided to opt out of the Boston show last-minute, so I trekked to the Paradise by myself. Usually I tape from the balcony, for a few reasons: first, there are really only two good places to tape at the Paradise, the balcony and the center column on the floor. The center column is, at most, six feet from the stage, and is a high-traffic, high-chatter area where you basically need to block your gear all night long, whereas the balcony enables you to stick your mics out over the crowd, far away from the gabfest that inevitably ensues where music and alcohol mix. Second, the center column is right in front of the artist's face, and although I wouldn't use the mic stand for a non-taper-friendly artist, there's a difference between having mics at the back of a venue and having a constant reminder right in their face that they're being recorded. I also wasn't sure if the opener (Hem) was taper-friendly, so that was another consideration. As such, I didn't even carry my mic stand into the Paradise, figuring I could run from the balcony...except the balcony was closed. Back to the car, gear in tow, pick up the stand, set up front and center, hope for the best.
Just as I get my rig set up, I catch someone out of the corner of my eye, making a beeline for me from the merch table set up in the corner. Uh oh, someone with the band is coming to read me the riot act. But wait...I know this someone with the band, because he's someone with another band - it was good old Dalton, Guster's manager. Apparently he'd just hooked up with Hem recently as their manager, and after exchanging pleasantries, he went off in search of permission for me to tape. Unbeknownst to me, the band had already given blanket permission, and my stand wasn't distracting to them in the least as they wound their way through 45 minutes of countrypolitan harmonizing, a very lush, laid-back sound with guitars, keys, mandolins and vocals.
And then it was time for Erin. Her drummer and keyboard player started a snappy beat, she bounded up on stage, and they cut out their intro just long enough for Erin to extend a high-energy greeting to her hometown crowd (she grew up in Virginia but was born in Boston - "My mother went into labor at the Union Oyster House," she said. "True story.") and launch into "Cinematic". Most of the set that followed was a romp through the new album, with a few older chestnuts like James!, Slung-Lo and Le Petite Mort thrown in for good measure. A double encore, topped off with a lengthy rendition of "Blackbirds" that ended with a disco breakdown, was the finale to the night, and 79 minutes later she was gone.

She did come out to sign copies of the disc after the show, and since I was packing up my gear, I was pretty much at the end of the line. I got her to sign a copy for Mrs. Dave (or "Yo, Viv babe! We missed you tonight!" as she signed it) and I got to thank her for allowing me to tape and distribute. She was very gracious, and even remembered that I'd taped two of her shows before and offered them up through her site (which reminds me, I need to submit these...) - great that she would take the time, and even better than she remembered me!

I presented Mrs. Dave with her signed CD, which she listened to all the next day at work...and promptly asked if I'd be interested in going up to the Portland show the next night. The original intent had been for it to be date night, but she was offering and I wasn't saying no. So we made the trip up to Portland - driving a bit faster than we normally would for fear of missing the set - but it turns out the time quoted on the web site was the door time, not the set time, so we were there plenty early. The venue itself is called the SPACE Gallery, and is an actual art gallery space - a small stage is set up at the back, the ceiling is exposed wood and concrete, pipes and wiring, and there's a great big I-beam, dead center, 20 feet back from the stage. A perfect spot to tape and clamp. I love it when a plan comes together.

The show was much the same as the night before, although Hem played a song that they had apparently only played live a handful of times before, much to the chagrin of the fan I had met in Boston who was debating whether to go to Portland or not (sans car). As always...not going is a regrettable option! Erin's set was equally lively and talkative - each night she explained the background of several different songs - and Mrs. Dave finally got to enjoy a full-band, full-length Erin show. As we drove home after the show, the clock ticked past 12 midnight, and my musical June week was over.