May 31 2007: The Drew Hickum Band - People's Pint, Greenfield MA

Returned to Greenfield for, I think, the first time since I stopped working in Gill. It was kind of fun to be back. And I was able to direct Sairi (who drove me up) to the Pint with a firm grasp of the various ins and outs of the mean streets of Greenfield. And I know that the people I used to work for probably don't frequent establishments as classy as the People's Pint, but I was still maybe hoping that ex-boss/notorious-asshole Rick would be there and I could say something like, "Hey Rick. What are you up to these days? Oh, still working in Gill? Still living with your dad? Still morbidly obese? Still dread getting out of bed in the morning? That's too bad. I'm doing alright though. Gonna be a nurse in less than a year. Gonna be making twice the money you are in less than a year. Going places, you know. And I'm happy. Not like you. Boy you sure were an asshole. And incompetent too. Barkeep! Bring this motherfucker a drink! Christ knows he needs one."

So the above exchange didn't happen. But I was able to drink some beer and eat some food and watch Drew Hickum play and talk with Sairi and talk with Kelly and talk with Adam and have me some good times.

May 19 2007: The Thungs, the Drew Hickum Band, Adam Sweeney - Pulaski Park, Northampton MA

It was 2pm. I was just walking through the door, sixer of Paper City under one arm, when the phone rang and I used the other arm to answer. It was Sweeney. He advised me to turn my ass around and head downtown, possibly with a couple of those bottles disguised as brown paper bags, and check out some free music.

Which was pretty good times. Adam played sensitive quiet folky shit that didn't go over real well with the traffic, but he finally picked it up a bit at the end and passers-by stopped to take note. Then Drew and Band played some great tunes that definitely got folks to stop and pay notice, and served to remind me that I really should make a point to see the Drew Hickum Band more often than I do. And then the Thungs came on, but I swear when Adam called he said it was the Fawns that were playing. Oh well. I was getting hungry anyway and it was cold out so I split after a song.

May 14 2007: Chris Pureka, Krystle Warren, Jesse Harris - Iron Horse, Northampton MA

So Kristen booked this tour, and Adam was playing with Pureka, and it was a beautiful evening, and I got my name on the list. Can't say no to a deal like that.

And Pureka was fucking great. I'd heard Adam talk her up a little bit, and I'd enjoyed the tune of hers that he covers, but now I'm definitely going to have to get some albums and start maybe even paying to see her play. Or at the very least borrow her albums from Adam and make sure he keeps putting me on the list. Cause wow.

May 11 2007: The Mountain Goats - Sound Fix Cafe, Brooklyn NY

There was a moment, at the beginning of the second song of the night, while the sweat was just finishing saturating my eyebrows and beginning to drip into and sting my eyes, at that instant in which I realized that in very short order John would step toward the microphone and almost whisper, "When I ask you to look at me," aka the first line of "Snow Crush Killing Song," aka the song I maybe wanted to hear most in the world. At that moment I had no regrets about anything.

Cause I almost didn't go to the show. And maybe I shouldn't have. But I did. And fuck circumstances: I had a great time despite knowing I'd get only two hours of sleep that night, and I had a great time despite rear ending a guy on 95 in the Bronx heading down that afternoon. I repeat, fuck circumstances: the car still runs, I've got insurance, I didn't sleep through my alarm the next morning. And can a price be put on good times being had? Are a crunched up front end, a $500 deductible, being really really tired for a twelve-hour shift at the hospital in the morning and a new unfriendly noise emitting from the engine worth good times? I mean, Really Good Times? In italics and with every word capitalized? I'm not sure I could say no.

So the long and short of it: Whitney and I went to see the Mountain Goats. I believe it was show #32 for me, and it was her first time. Made it to Williamsburg around five and walked around a little bit and found this fantastic little bar with a garden and two-for-one drinks and no one there besides us and the bartender and the bartender's friends, and we spent a couple hours there. The show itself was at this other little bar, where we ordered more drinks and staked our spots at the front of the stage, which was no more than six inches raised from the floor. Come an hour later we were really glad we were there early due to the insane amount of people trying to squeeze into the room.

And there were lots of people, and it was way too hot to have so many people in that space, but everyone was really polite and no one was making an ass of themselves and, perhaps in no small part due to the fact that only two songs released on 4AD were played, there was a noticeable and much-appreciated lack of singing along.

John was playing solo and, amongst others, did "The Day the Aliens Came," "Going to Maine," six (six!) songs from "Sweden," and a great new tune called "Lovecraft in Brooklyn." And then Franklin came out and they did a set as the Extra Glenns, including, amongst others, "River Song," "Going to Marrakesh," "Badger Song" and "Carmen Cicero." People were drenched in sweat. Encores were demanded. I was happy.

And now, with the benefit of 20/20-type hindsight, I'm not entirely positive it was worth going. But neither am I entirely disappointed that I did. I needed something to remind me that I can have fun despite a crazy school schedule, and I hadn't seen the Mountain Goats since October, and who knows when or even if I'll ever see the Extra Glenns again, and it was fun to hang out with Whitney again, and so yeah. I'm not sorry I went. Not at all.