Up north

After heading south on Thursday, I turned to the north on Friday and drove to Ann Arbor, Michigan. Since I arrived home pretty late from Thursday's activities, I was slow getting around and didn't get to spend as much time in this lovely downtown as I would have liked. I did see a movie at the theater with this lovely marquee.


This theater is just a few doors down in what was quite the hopping downtown. The sidewalks were packed, and it seemed like something was going on. There was a really good energy to the place.

My visit was spurred by the chance to see Bruce Robison and Kelly Willis again. I figured that since they don't play often in the region, I might as well take the opportunity and make the trip. I've previously been to The Ark, the place they played tonight, and really like the venue. I also had planned to use this day as an excuse to check out more of downtown, but I left home later than I intended.

I didn't quite realize it until I almost passed them, but on the way from the movie theater to the club, I walked by them on the street trying to get into a guitar shop right as it was closing. (Turns out they needed something.) As it is with small shows like this, I did get to speak with them briefly after the concert, which was nice.

I didn't plan it out this way, but on consecutive nights I attended drastically different concerts. Thursday: Paul McCartney, stadium show, hundreds of feet from the stage. Friday: Kelly Willis and Bruce Robison, small club show, a few feet from the stage. The ticket fees for McCartney covered what it cost to get into tonight's concert. This isn't a knock on seeing the Beatle. Both shows were terrific in their own ways. It's just interesting to consider the massive differences between these experiences.

And I write this to you from my parents' home in Indiana. I've driven quite a lot these two days. Time to stay put for a few.

One more night

One of the benefits of having favorite singers who aren't terribly well-known is the ability to see them in exceedingly small venues. One of the drawbacks of having favorite singers who aren't terribly well-known is the inability to see them frequently. I've been a fan of Kelly Willis since 1995, and I've seen her and her husband Bruce Robison in concert--solo or as a duet--several times. I've almost always had to drive a couple hours minimum to enjoy them live, though. To my knowledge she's never played Columbus. (One of the shortest drives to see Kelly play was Newport, Kentucky four years ago.) Bruce was here two years ago almost to the day.

When the announcement of their Columbus concert arrived in my inbox, I had a check in the mail a day or two later. My haste was probably unnecessary, but this was not something I was going to miss. I've been waiting ages for her to book a Columbus show, and the two of them don't perform together a lot. Plus, I wanted to send a message to the independent promoter: thanks for booking them and let my quick order indicate I'd like for you to bring them back, individually or together, again. I surely sound silly in the scenario, but know that I was even agitated with anticipation today waiting for showtime.

If that sounds like I'm laying burdensome expectations on the performers, I suspect they would have had to crash and burn on a spectacular level for me to be disappointed. Never fear. It was kind of remarkable how deeply felt the old songs were, like becoming reacquainted with friends who have been out of touch for a long time. I haven't been listening to Bruce or Kelly much of late, so returning to these songs was to be reminded of how much I love them and where I was in life when I first heard them. I don't mean that it was a nostalgic experience--just the opposite in some instances--but that it brought into the light the history these songs have for me.

They're preparing a joint album, which is part of the reason why they're doing a few brief stints on the road. Much to my excitement, this meant new songs, and more than I would have expected. In many respects, certainly in this one, the concert couldn't have been any better. New material, old favorites, and both of them on stage together!

The venue seems like the unlikeliest place and the most appropriate one for a country music concert. It was held in a German social club's concert hall, with American and German flags straddling the stage. (Considering Robison's German heritage, it is strangely fitting.) The unpretentious room made it seem more like a private party than a performance for which tickets were sold, yet for country music in particular, this casual gathering wherever it could be arranged seemed right. There was less physical and mental distance between those on stage and those in the audience. It seemed like a music hall that a whole Texas town might pile into on a Saturday night.

The arrangement of the room led to an amusing moment near the show's conclusion. Bruce and Kelly returned for an encore without their upright bass player and steel pedal/electric guitarist. They then called for their band members to come on stage. The bassist made his way to the stage with no sign of the guitarist. Eventually he emerged from the bathroom directly stage right within view of everyone. That got a good laugh from the crowd.

Sadly, this was the next to last concert that this promoter will be putting on at the German social club. The property was sold, thus necessitating for shows like this one to find a new home. So, chances are that this was my third and final time in the space. Here's to finding a good replacement for when these fine singer-songwriters hopefully return.

Sweet sundown

For all intents and purposes I spent the better half of Friday afternoon and evening in Cincinnati, Ohio even if I really was in Newport, Kentucky. Sure, I was on the southern side of the Ohio River, which meant I was in the Bluegrass State, but most of the cars had Ohio license plates. The main indicator that I wasn't in the Buckeye State was smoking in the bar section where I saw the concert. (Ohio has a smoking ban in all restaurants and bars. The concert I saw in the ballroom was designated nonsmoking, but there are three performance spaces in the building. People were puffing away in the lounge.)

Above in the background you see Paul Brown Stadium, home of the Bengals; Great American Ball Park, home of the Reds; and some of the Cincinnati skyline. (If you look closely, you might notice a building familiar from WKRP in Cincinnati.)

After a morning press screening and a stop for lunch at one of the city's two Sonic locations, I made my way south. (I should mention that aside from whatever strange bond I've made with Sonic, their food leaves something to be desired. The drinks are where it's at.) I've made this drive several times and never found it to be very interesting, but with the kind of week it was, some brain-clearing time behind the wheel listening to music was a welcome relief. I looked more with amazement than anger at the stubborn jerk with the Jack Bauer for President sticker on the rear window of his van. He was driving under the speed limit in the left lane and steadfastly refused to get over or speed up, meaning that traffic was backing up quite a ways behind him. (A semi was in the right lane, so no one could get around.)

I arrived in Newport around 3:30 p.m. and took some time to get my bearings. I found where The Southgate House was and then was ready to knit. As I wrote yesterday, I was undisturbed as I busied myself with the blanket.

Newport Oktoberfest was taking place by the river, so I wandered over to it for a short bit. The party hadn't really started yet. The oompah band was doing a soundcheck, and the vendors were twiddling their thumbs waiting for people to arrive. I wasn't all that hungry, but I knew I needed to eat something. The options were minimal: two German food vendors and a pizza chain selling slices. No wonder admission was free. I bought a bratwurst and walked along the river for awhile.

I still had a couple hours until the doors opened for the concert. I decided to take a look around Newport. As I made my way back to Newport on the Levee I was somewhat taken aback to see Kelly Willis, who I had come to see sing, walking toward me. Although she was wearing black rectangular glasses, I recognized her. I don't think I get particularly starstruck, but it can be jarring to see someone in public whom you're accustomed to seeing only on stage or in the media. I didn't say anything as we passed at the intersection at Third and Monmouth. I figured most people in her position would rather not be bothered, and what did I have to say anyway? Good luck tonight?

While sitting in front of the aquarium I finished my second skein of yarn. According to my estimate, 42 rows of increased stitches is equal to a one foot by one foot section of the blanket. The second skein yielded exactly 42 rows, from 116 to 158 increases, a mathematical symmetry I found rather pleasing. I'm increasing to 168 stitches, so I'm fairly certain I will need a fifth skein to make a four foot by four foot blanket. (Don't ask me how the math works in this. I'm not sure it's correct.) I bought another today, so I have my bases covered.

The historical marker in front of The Southgate House informed me that the location was the birthplace of the inventor of the Tommygun. It's an interesting venue for live music. The lounge and ballroom are simple, unpretentious spaces that invite you in. (I didn't see the parlour.) The house also has an art gallery.

I guess they ran out of L's for their sign and had to resort to turning 7s upside down. The Southgate House's schedule features an impressive list of performers coming through. This picture shows some of the diversity. I'm not familiar with the music of Deerhunter, just their notorious antics that have been detailed at Pitchfork and Stereogum. Pretty different from what I was going to be seeing.

I've seen Kelly Willis in concert several times, but I never quite know what to expect audience-wise. She's been releasing albums since 1990 but never broke through on the country music scene. The most consistent place she's played that's reasonably close is The Ark in Ann Arbor, Michigan. It's a wonderful, intimate venue that holds three or four hundred people tops. She drew well every time I went to The Ark, and I'm surprised she's not playing there while promoting her newest album. Southgate House saves me an hour on the drive, so no complaints here.

I was toward the front of the line waiting to be let into the general admission seating area, but I didn't expect that I would end up snagging a seat at the center table in the front. I was five feet from the stage, if that, and had an unobstructed view. Not bad for less than twenty bucks. I sat with the people who had been ahead of me in line, and we talked until the show started. The period between getting in and waiting for the concert to start can seem interminable, so having some people to talk with was nice. (Going back to my assertion in the first paragraph, none of them were from Kentucky.)

I reckon that there were only fifty people in attendance, but Kelly and the five members of her band (guitar, bass, fiddle/mandolin, drums, and keyboards/organ) tore through twenty-three songs as though the room was packed. Translated from Love, her latest album, is the most upbeat collection of her career in terms of tempo and subject matter, and the new songs sounded great live. After a hard week, it was a joy to hear her energetic set.

Most of the music I've listened to through the years has not been steeped in virtuosity. Rock and roll's power often comes from a distinct lack of it. With Kelly Willis, though, her remarkable voice is what hooked me. It's like a combination of honey and vinegar, sweet with notes of the sour. (Maybe a comparison to balsamic vinegar is more apt.) That voice, coupled with unerring taste in songwriters and her own strong writing, is what made me a fan.

She's the real deal as a singer. Her voice shines through on CD and is just as strong and clear live. She may sound even better in person, which I expect isn't true for a large number of today's singers, whose voices have been processed like crazy for recordings. On stage she comes across as modest and passionate, qualities also inherent in her music.

Anyone who spends significant time consuming art in various forms knows that it isn't necessary to like the creator to appreciate their achievements. I like Kanye West's albums--honest--but the guy projects the image of an egomaniac. Still, it's nice to find talented people who appear to value humility and hard work. I have no way of knowing, but Kelly Willis seems like someone with a good soul whose success has been earned through years of plugging away at her craft. There weren't a lot of people at Southgate House to see her, but she seemed grateful for those who were at the club and knew her work. We were rewarded with a terrific concert.

For me the time out of town and the concert provided the opportunity to shake off what's been weighing me down of late. (I mean that in the metaphorical sense. There was no dancing.) When opening performer Amy LaVere took the stage and started slapping away at her upright bass and playing her bluesy and jazzy songs, I could feel myself relaxing as the music washed over me. (I was totally unfamiliar with her but liked what I heard. Her music was kind of reminiscent of Joe Henry.) I badly needed the relief I received from having time to knit and see one of my favorite singers perform. Take me to the river indeed.

A note on the concert photos: I haven't figured out the best way to shoot these with my camera. I don't use the flash, in part to keep from being obnoxious but also because it probably would be ineffective. The result is that many of the photos can be smeary. I'm also of the opinion that my camera doesn't handle red very well. I've attempted to correct the color and sharpen the images. Applying the black and white effect smooths out the fuzziness and delivers a nice image, which is why I included one of those pictures here.