July 16 2006: Wilco, The Autumn Defense – Pines Theatre, Florence MA

Another free show, courtesy of Adam’s folkie friends. Which was a very good thing, seeing as how tickets were $40, and it was a good show and all but it was no $40 good show.

Things started off a little slow, but maybe 5 or 6 songs in they started to sound really good. Wilco’s an interesting band to me, because they’ve got so many pretty good songs but so very few that are just flat-out great. And they’ve got all these intelligent fans who think they’re geniuses, so I’m always feeling like I’m missing out, that if I listen to them just once more then maybe that one time will be the needle that breaks the camel’s back and suddenly I’ll understand. But it never happens.

Though they are fun to see play, and lots of their “pretty good” songs turn out “more than pretty good” and the few “great” songs turn out spectacular. Such as the way “I’m the Man Who Loves You” turned out last night, along with “Wishful Thinking.” Those were probably the high points of the night in my book. And really, you just can’t beat an outdoor show on a warm summer evening, no matter who it is playing.

And I realized in the middle of the show that Wilco is pretty much the exact same band as Radiohead. They’re both big bands, everyone has their little role to play, everything is meticulously arranged, there is little to no room for improvisation, and it’s as if the whole band is being run through a big compressor. I mean, seriously, if you gave Wilco a bunch of delay pedals and that thing that Jonny Greenwood likes to play, you’d have Radiohead. And I’m not sure if I enjoy that. I don’t like meticulous arrangements and I don’t like compressors. I do like improvisation. Yet I enjoy seeing Wilco play (and Radiohead, for that matter). Oh, the contradictions.

And apparently the band that was supposed to open got held up at the Canadian border so a couple of the non-Tweedy guys in Wilco opened instead as an acoustic duo. Pretty good stuff, though if I’d known at the time that they weren’t just the promoter’s friends filling in at the last minute I’d have paid a little more attention as I stood in the beer line.

July 13 2006: Jeffery Foucault, Lori McKenna – Energy Park, Greenfield MA

Adam sent me an email just before I left for work, suggesting I try to make it to this free folk show. “Bring a tard,” he said. His words, not mine.

So I talked Tard Brian into checking it out. We sat on the grass and I listened to the music and he watched the hot air balloons that were flying above. We showed up just as McKenna took the stage and made it through her set pretty well, but then a few songs after Foucault came on I could tell Brian had had enough. Which was a shame, because if I were there alone or with some friends and was able to enjoy a few beers on the grass, it could have been a damned pleasant evening.

July 4 2006: Belle and Sebastian, Martha Wainwright – Battery Park, New York NY

Today was, between work and school, my only day off all summer. So I thought I’d see me some music, and thought maybe I could talk someone into joining me. It seemed a given that I’d get at least a few takers. I mean, I offered to drive, it’s free show, and there are good times to be had in New York. Who WOULDN’T want such things in their life? Well, everyone I know in the Northeast, it seems. Jared (in Boston): “I have to shop for a car.” Adam (in Northampton): “I’m not really feeling up to traveling.” Sairi (in Northampton): “I’ve got schoolwork.” Josh (in New York): “I’m in Oregon.” Erin (some town in NE New Jersey): “I’ve got other plans.” Dominick (in Princeton): “I have to break up with my girlfriend.”

But fuck them. Who needs friends when you’ve got a full tank of gas, a couple bucks, no outstanding warrants for your arrest, a few sandwiches, Hemmingway’s collected short stories, and a free Belle and Sebastian show at the end of the road? Not I, I always say. Goddamn. The pirate’s life for me.

And while laying on my back on the grass in Battery Park at around 2pm (this was a day show), waiting for things to get started, I could not help but just grin stupidly at my fantastic luck to be at this particular place at this particular time. Sometimes the world cannot get any more perfect.

And Belle and Sebastian had strings. Despite not having strings when I saw them in March. There were twelve musicians on stage. The world got more perfect.

They played songs I hadn’t heard in two years and which were so very pleasant to hear again. Songs like “Sleep the Clock Around” and “I Fought in a War.”

And they played songs I hadn’t heard in five years and had just taken for granted that I’d never hear again. Songs like “Don’t Leave the Light On Baby” and “La Pastie de la Bourgeoisie” and “If You’re Feeling Sinister” and “Dirty Dream #2.” How much better? How much better? Could my life get?

And so here I salute the good people of Samaria, Mahatma Gandhi, the invention of the lightbulb , Albert Einstein, and the Beatles. For we see further only by standing on the shoulders of giants. And this concert was perhaps the high water mark, the culmination, the absolute fucking zenith of everything come before.