March 19 2006: The Silver Jews, New Radiant Storm King, Ketman – Middle East Downstairs, Cambridge MA

My first real rock and roll show in Massachusetts since moving here. Also my first time to Boston since the last time I was there, which was the first time of all time. Got together before the show with old friend Jared and his friend Jacob and Jacob’s friends Adam and Nathan. Much good food and beer consumed between the hours of 6 and 9pm, at which point the show began and we headed in.

The merch guy didn’t seem to enthusiastic about my commenting, “eh, $20 for a trucker hat? Seems like you’re sorta trying to jew me on that one.” I mean, seriously! Bad joke, but it’s true, $20 for a cheap trucker hat is a little much, even if said trucker hat has a NY Jets style football helmet on it with “Jews” in the logo instead of “Jets.” Like the merch guy said, “it’s funny because it’s not like there’s an actual New York Jews football team.”

Openers were competent, and there was a comedian MC-ing the thing, coming out before each act and doing a little bit of his routine. He was funny in a six-beers-since-two-hours-ago kind of way. His “I’m a good cop!” bit was the best. Don’t remember the dude’s name though.

And the Silver Fuckin Jews! Pretty cool. And way better than I was anticipating, it being according to Berman their eighth show ever. And lots and lots of oldies. Good times all around. After “Smith and Jones Forever,” which I danced all over the place too, the girl tapped me on the shoulder and said, “hey, I’m not trying to ruin your show or anything, but could you maybe….” And I said, “yeah, I’m sorry. Sorry.” I’d accidentally danced all over someone’s feet, and figured she must be their owner. But then “Pet Politics” comes up next, my fist went up, my body moved, and fuck it, sometimes you gotta dance and if there’s feet in the vicinity they better get out of the way.

March 5 2006: Belle and Sebastian, The New Pornographers – 9:30 Club, Washington DC

So the real reason we all came to DC was to see Belle and Sebastian play – I’d have seen them on Boston but they played the Avalon there and I hear tell it’s twice the size of the 9:30 club. Plus Ryan and Heather and Terry and Floch are all just about my favorite people to hang out with ever.

The New Pornographers, sans Neko Case, opened. They were ok. I’d never heard them before, and the show didn’t leave any real urge in me to check them out in the future. Folks really seem to think they’re the shit, but I just don’t get it. Oh well. It was fun to watch them get drunk pulling off their fifth of Jameson’s on stage though, and the drummer was pretty charming with his stick twists and tosses.

And Belle and Sebastian played, and I was kind of disappointed. Which is stupid, because they played a few songs I’d never seen live before, most notably “I’m a Cuckoo” and “Fox in the Snow” and “Electronic Renaissance” – though I kind of fucked myself on “Electronic Renaissance” because I read in Peter Hughes’ recording diary back in January that amidst recording in Glasgow he had gone out and seen Belle and Sebastian play and he mentioned that they did “Electronic Renaissance.” So hard as I tried to forget about that, I knew going into the show that it was within the realm of possibilities to see it played. And if they’d just gone into it without my knowing it would have just blown me away. As it stands, it was really good but that bit of surprise could have pushed it right over the top. Oh well.

And my main beef: when I paid $20 to see the band in 2001 they had a full string section backing them. So, I figure, it stands to reason that when I pay $40 to see them in 2006 they probably won’t have cut the size of the band in fucking half. But they did. Forty dollars is a lot to spend on a show, but it’s kind of justifiable when you assume that the band is flying fourteen or fifteen people to the States and getting multiple tour busses and paying for extra hotel rooms and the like. But nope, the price I paid doubled and the costs of touring went down by half. So Belle and Sebastian pretty much took me for the proverbial ride. I salute them for their clever schemes but now I know how these things work and I’ll be damned if I fall for that one again.

So yeah, I know, leave it to me to be so critical about shit that in the midst of atrocious American imperialism and AIDS destroying Africa and countless children starving somewhere in the world, I can somehow manage to bitch about a fucking BELLE AND SEBASTIAN SHOW. I mean, it’s not like it was even that bad. It was good! It was a good show! It was! I just would have been a lot more accepting if the ticket price was halved.

Spent the night at a rest stop just north of Baltimore and made it home in time for class the next night.

March 4 2006: Three Dog Night – Main Ballroom, Marriott Wardman Park Hotel, Washington DC

Didn’t plan on seeing Three Dog Night at this place and time. Didn’t really plan on seeing Three Dog Night, ever, anywhere. But sometimes the spirit moves. In this case, moving in ways I don’t quite remember entirely.

What I do remember is this: myself, friends Ryan and Heather from Virginia Beach, and friends Terry and Floch from Montana, all got ourselves a classy $180 room for the night because (a) we never go classy and figured why not, we’ll give it a whirl this time, and because (b) with five people to split the cost with it’s like the Marriott’s actually paying US to stay there. So we got a room and figured no point in going out when there’s a liquor store right across the street and big comfy chairs all over the hotel. So Ryan and I split a fifth of Maker’s, Terry goes for a fifth of Evan Williams solo (to his credit he’s not just an alcoholic with no taste buds, he’s also a pretty big guy. So it takes a lot of booze to get his blood flowing to begin with), Floch goes for some beer, and Heather some weird amaretto drink that Ryan makes for her. So believe me when I say that good times were pretty much a given from the start. And then someone, I think Floch, finds out that there is live music and free food and free booze down in the ballroom. Shit!, we all think, that’s kind of what we’re all about! To the ballroom!

And long story short, it’s Three Dog Night playing, at a benefit for some abstinence-in-our-teenagers promoting organization, some guy gave me his purple-and-white-striped blazer, we got free booze and free food, heard “One is the Loneliest Number,” grinned amongst ourselves at our outrageous luck, and got ourselves kicked out not once but TWICE. I later passed out in the lobby and Ryan and Terry had to carry me up to the room. We definitely got our money’s worth out of the Marriott. Fuck yeah.