Keane

Keane was incredible last Friday.  It was my third time seeing them, and they have consistently brought it.  While their albums are great, nothing can really compare to this band live.  They put on some of the best shows I’ve ever seen, something you might not expect from a band often deemed “mellow.”  Tim Rice-Oxley’s finely crafted soaring tunes paired with Tom Chaplin’s stunning vocals explode into a brilliant audio-visual experience for lucky and always-passionate Keane gig-goers.

Keane was the first proper current band that I got really into.  My family saw them on Saturday Night Live in 2004, performing “Somewhere Only We Know” and “Everybody’s Changing.”  I remember enjoying them (and actually thinking that Tom Chaplin’s name was Keane and the other guys were his backing band) and my mom being amazed at how much Tom sounded like Paul McCartney.  For Christmas of that year, my dad gave my mom a copy of Keane’s Hopes and Fears, their debut album that they had been on SNL to promote.  We listened to the album a good deal in the car as a family, and somewhere along the line I claimed the band as my own.  I had never heard anything quite like the massive “Bedshaped” and loved the band’s pretty piano melodies.

"Bedshaped." Watch, listen, learn.

I received my own copy of Keane’s second album, Under The Iron Sea, in 2006 for my 16^th birthday.  I kept the CD in my little blue boombox and would listen to it on repeat in my room.  UTIS quickly became my go-to album, especially for times I was feeling stressed or sad.  Something about the songs’ lonely lyrics and the intense, room-filling music comforted me.   I listened when I was happy too; when my high school trigonometry teacher let the class bring in music to listen to while we worked, I burned her a copy.  It was featured heavily in the rotation (thank god for cool teachers with great taste!).  With UTIS, Keane clearly expanded and grew, adding bass and heavy effects to their original piano-and-drums-only style.  This album contains my favorite Keane song, “Hamburg Song,” as well as some of my favorite album artwork of all time, designed by Sanna Annukka.

Unf, so pretty.

Keane’s third and most experimental album, Perfect Symmetry, came out early in my first semester of college, a time when I was beginning to really develop my taste in music, which has a distinctly British indie-pop flavor.  I had been listening non-stop to the two songs from the album that had been released, “Spiralling” and “The Lovers Are Losing.”  They day I secured my own copy from the now-closed Borders on State Street, I brought it back to my dorm room (which, somehow, was devoid of my two roommates), stuck it in my CD player, pressed play, lay on the pull-out couch, and closed my eyes to listen through the album.  Once it finished I listened again, this time reading the lyric book along with the CD.  I liked the album immediately, though some songs, like “Playing Along” were growers; for me, I often have to listen to a song at least 15 times for me to truly appreciate its brilliance.  I connected strongly with the album.  Much of the subject matter of Perfect Symmetry, especially the title track, is about observing all the violence and pain and apathy in the world and, in part, feeling frustrated and helpless to do anything about it, and also inspiring the listeners to take a stand.  The best examples I can think of for this are “Playing Along” and, my favorite on the album, “Perfect Symmetry.”

Perfect Symmetry brought me to my first Keane show.  Not having seen many videos of their performances, I was skeptical as to how good Keane would be live.  I needn’t have worried.  On May 6^th, 2009, I dragged two of my friends to the Aragon Ballroom for the show.  It was just brilliant.  Tom Chaplin was constantly running from one end of the stage to another, Tim Rice-Oxley played the keys more intensely than anyone I had ever seen, and the rhythms of Richard Hughes and Jesse Quin (Keane’s touring bass player) drove each song to the very back of the ballroom (or I assume so; we were in the front).  At one point the band took a break from the amps and the stunning light show to gather in a half-circle to play some stripped-down songs.  Even with the splendor of the rest of the show, I think this was my favorite part.  When it was all over, I was determined to meet the band.  Not long after I arrived at the stage door, the band members emerged!  I was a bit starstruck at seeing Tim standing in front of me, but I was also surprised at how normal they were.  They were incredibly kind and patient with all the swarming fans; I asked Tim if I could give him a hug for all the wonderful songs that he had written, and if he could sign my new UTIS-design poster.  He said sure to both requests.  I gave Richard a few photographs I had taken of Chicago, as he is a tip-top photographer and I wanted to give him something of my own to remember the city by.  He signed my poster as well, as did Tom, who was so surrounded by fans that that was all I could manage.  Jesse hadn’t come out yet but I could tell my friends were ready to go home, so we left.  I actually lost my voice completely and entirely for the next three days, as I was already getting sick and did not restrain myself from singing and screaming all through the concert.  A small price to pay for one of the best shows I’d been to. 

I next saw Keane after the release of their Night Train EP, a mish-mash of collaborations and songs that Keane wanted to record but that didn’t really fit in with their other albums.  This EP was definitely interesting and I enjoyed their collaborations with rapper K’naan and songs like “My Shadow” and “Clear Skies.”  Some songs were iffy to me; I am honestly not sure what they were thinking when they recorded “Ishin Denshin,” a cover of a Japanese pop song (sorry guys, but it's terrible).  They toured the EP and I went to see them a second time, bringing my cousin Theresa along with me to the Chicago Theater.  It was a gorgeous venue for the band to play, but the seats were assigned and despite purchasing my tickets the second they went on sale, our seats were pretty far away.  I prefer general admission, because I like for my position in the theater to be determined by how early I arrive, and not how much I pay for tickets!  It was still fantastic show though.  Tim actually sang “Your Love,” admitting his apprehension about doing so; though he writes all of Keane’s songs, Tom sings them.  I thought Tim did a great job.  After the show Theresa and I joined the crowd along the side of the theater, hoping to say hello to the band.  Again, they came out and were really, incredibly lovely to the fans.  We talked to Richard and Tim for a good few minutes each, and I gave Richard some more Chicago photographs.  Tom was hard to talk to again, as he is continually the victim of fangirl swarms.  I was determined to see Jesse this time, because, though he was not an official member of the band, I considered him to be, and I might have a tiny little ginormous crush on him.  While we waited for him, we saw Ingrid Michaelson, who opened, making her way to her bus, seemingly unnoticed by the other fans.  She was incredibly sweet and I took picture of her and Theresa.  Finally, I spotted the wonderful Jesse Quin near the stage door, with just a few people talking to him.  When my turn came, I told him that I thought he was very talented and that I loved his music.  His shy response: “Aw, you sound like my mum…”  He signed my UTIS poster and I gave him a hug.

So far away...

Theresa and me with Tim

T and Ingrid!! They look weirdly alike here...

Me and Richard, winner of the Nicest Guy Award

Me with Jesse.  Lovely lovely lovely man.

Months passed.  I studied in Europe, discovered some amazing bands, and graduated college.  Just before my last semester ended, Keane released their newest album, Strangeland.  My love for Keane, though ever-present, had been somewhat hidden under everything new that had come to me in the past few years.  Still, I was glad to have a new album of theirs.  I had to wait to listen to it until finals were through, and when I did, I wasn’t completely sure how I felt about it as a whole.  I immediately loved many of the tracks: "Disconnected" is fantastic, as is “Silenced By The Night”; “On The Road” has hints of Springsteen and the lyric "Sometimes a dream itself can keep you safe all along the road" reminds me of the time Abby and I were driving in a terrifying torrential downpour through Tennessee determined to reach a Mumford & Sons show (somehow we made it alive and in time); and “Sovereign Light Café,” a song written a few years ago but which had only come to light with this album, makes me dance and well up at the beauty of the melody and feel nostalgic for a place I’ve never been.  Other tracks on the album came to me more slowly; I didn’t realize how much I liked “Day Will Come” until I woke up with it pleasantly playing in my head, and one day “The Starting Line” came out of nowhere, hitting me like an emotion-filled semi.  Some tracks I’m still unsure about, like “Black Rain” and “Watch How You Go"; they're slower songs, the kind that take me a while to really get into.

Video for "Sovereign Light Cafe"

Fast-forward to last Friday.  

It had been a great week for music, as I'd seen Laura Marling that Tuesday.  My friend Jenny and I planned to get to The Vic early to get good spots for Keane.  I had met Jenny in line for a Brandon Flowers show in 2010, and as we talked we realized that we both loved Keane—I have very few friends that share my enthusiasm for them—and that we had been to several of the same concerts, including Keane at The Aragon and the Chicago Theater as well as Mt. Desolation, the country side-project of Tim and Jesse, as well as a few other friends (Winston Marshall of Mumford & Sons and Ronnie Vannucci of The Killers recorded with them).  After a lunch of which I ate very little, possibly due to nervous excitement, we took our place in line, about 30 people from the front.  This was around 3:00, and doors didn’t open until 7.  Fortunately, it was such a nice day out that the hours flew by.  Jenny’s friend Lisa, who I had also met at the Brandon Flowers show, joined us in line.  We saw Tim, Richard, and Tom walk into the venue, and I was wondering where Jesse was when all of a sudden, a pink-shirted blur flew past me in the form of the newest now-official member of the Keane.  I guess the band realized that Jesse was pretty much a member as it was, and they couldn’t go much longer pretending not to have a bass player.  With the band safely inside, we settled back down to wait.  At one point I walked over to Potbelly to use their facilities, and when I returned, I was informed that I missed Tom and Richard come out and talk to the fans!  Jenny got to chat with Richard and take a picture with him and everything.

That would happen as soon as I left.

Finally, all the fans were ordered to form a line, with women to the right and men to the left.  I do have a problem with this.  I understand that it is done because women typically are carrying bags that need to be checked while men often just have their wallets; however, this means that the many guys get to go in first, even if the ladies in front of them had been there hours before!  And what’s more, men are often taller than women, and so it is quite frustrating for a girl of average height (5’4”) like me to have perpetually to stand behind a mountain of the tallest men at the concert.

Anyway.  Rant of the day.  Moving on.

I was the first of us to get in, so I dashed to the front, catching a glimpse of a beautiful Hatch Print poster made for the tour.  But it would have to wait; I knew where my priorities lay.  I planted myself at the center-left of the stage and the others joined me.  The stage was crowded with Keane’s instruments as well as those of the opening act, Patrick Watson.

Potential musical energy

I had listened to some of Patrick Watson’s songs the night before on YouTube, and they seemed good.  I was worried they would be too mellow and would make me sleepy, as some opening acts are wont to do, but I shouldn’t have been concerned, as they were amazing live.  Their set began with the stage completely dark, save for a dim light on the pianist’s face.  Then, the guitar and the violin and the drums began to play, and with them appeared little tiny lights on the fingers of the musicians, which lit up with each note played.  It was like gazing at musical fireflies.  Then the song picked up and the strike of each chord, lights from below lit up the stage in time with the song.  I’m not sure if it was choreographed or the lights were triggered by the sound, but it was spectacular.  The rest of the show was largely lit from below with sound cues, and for a few songs the entire band (five people, I think) gathered around one microphone and produced such lovely harmonies.  Patrick Watson’s voice reminded me of Samir’s of Young The Giant, and the instrumentation and harmonies made me think of The Head And The Heart.  I was actually disappointed when they finished!  Once I am able, I will be giving them some of my money.

The excitement mounted as the crowd anticipated Keane.  Suddenly the PA music stopped, the lights dimmed, and their walk-on music blared from the speakers.  Just as the audience seemed ready to burst, one by one, the four members took to the stage.  They launched into “You Are Young,” the first track of Strangeland.  The stage was set up beautifully, with a great pedestal in front of Richard’s drum set, and a round “STRANGELAND” beacon on the upper-right of the backdrop that lit up whenever the band played a song from that album.  We had a great view; all the instruments were set up so that we were able to see each band member clearly—a difficult task in a piano-heavy band.  Tom worked the crowd like the top frontman that he is, singing directly to us, moving about the stage with grandiose gestures and an even more impressive voice.  Tim hit the keys with more intensity than I’ve ever seen anyone play; he rarely sat, instead leaning over the keyboard, practically playing with his nose.  His arms were trembling and his eyes closed when he sang the harmonies to the songs he had written.  Richard never stopped moving—I always love watching the drummers because they are so exciting and they make the best faces—and in fact I was unable to get any pictures in which he was not a blur!  Jesse bounced around the stage, at one point climbing the pedestal to rock on facing Richard.  

The upbeat songs were huge and the crowd to jumped and danced like mad to them, and the quiet songs were delicate and sweeping.  Emotions in the theater were high, and I even found myself choked up during “The Starting Line.”  There was, of course, a heavy emphasis on Strangeland with 9 tracks from the album, including the song “Strangeland,” which for some reason was added to the album just as a bonus track despite its name and its superb-ness as a song.  I was surprised and pleased by many tracks from Under The Iron Sea; when I heard the opening chords of "Nothing In My Way" it was as if I were 16 again.  I was elated that they performed “Perfect Symmetry,” the only track they played from the album of that name, which I realized later to my astonishment (though really, I didn’t mind as the setlist was a wonderful blend of new and old).  The crowd went especially wild for the songs from Keane’s first album.  Before they began “Somewhere Only We Know,” Tom told the crowd that we had no excuses, that everyone had to sing along to that one.  It really was a special moment, to be a part of a massive sing-along to one of, I think, the best songs of the 21^st century.  I wonder how it feels for the band, to witness so many people carrying a song you created so long ago, and to have come so far since then.

Tom told us something that warmed my Chicagoan heart: In every city Keane does a show in, Tom says something along the lines of "It's great to be in [city name]! The Windy City!"  Always "The Windy City."  Richard confirmed this fact, moaning from behind the drum kit, "Every city, for 15 tours, The Windy City."  Finally this time they actually were in the Windy City!  I'm feeling the love.

We were really close! The wait was worth it.

We knew the show was coming to a close when “Bedshaped” began.  In the past, Keane have always ended their shows with this song because they felt that nothing could really top it.  This time, however, it preceded four songs.  The encore was a bit ocean-themed; “Sea Fog,” a gorgeous track from Strangeland, brought the band back on stage, and they followed it with “Atlantic” from UTIS.  They finished with “Crystal Ball” and exited as they came in, as four English silhouettes.

We left the stage in a haze of joy and temporarily damaged eardrums.  I managed to secure the Hatch print poster I so coveted, and we headed outside to wait for the band.  We figured we would have to wait until the crew was done loading the trucks, but the lads appeared, still wearing the clothes they had been on stage!  Richard was first.  He really is just the nicest guy to talk to.  I gave him a print of a photo I had taken of The Bean in Millennium Park—continuing the tradition of giving him some photographic mementos of Chicago—and he seemed to like it, wondering how I managed to get a picture without anyone reflected in it.  I spoke to Jesse, giving him the “yay you’re an official member now” card I had made him that morning (it had a panda on it. He likes pandas.  I am a sad fangirl) and taking a picture with him.  I think he was appreciative and not too terribly creeped out.  Tom came over next, and he was actually taking pictures with the fans this time!  My picture turned out a bit blurry, but that’s alright.  I got a great picture of him and Jenny though.  When I saw Tim, I asked him if I could give him a hug.  He said “of course” and I went in for it.  I stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk, stepped on Tim’s right foot, and kind of crashed into him.  He kind of caught me and asked if I was alright—me, the girl who just stepped on his foot!  I was mortified.  “Me? Are you alright? I’m so sorry!”  He assured me that he was fine and we took a picture together.  I managed to remember to ask Tim if the band had ever considered collaborating with Florence Welch.  He thought for a moment and said that yes, they had reached out to her for “Your Love,” but apparently she didn’t want to.  I do think they would make an amazing combination, so I shall hold onto this hope for the future.

Me and Jesse. Thanks to Jenny for these pictures!

Me and Tim, post-stumble. He is just unbelievably wonderful.

Me and a blur named Tom Chaplin

Limited edition Hatch print. I visited the Hatch shop in Nashville.  They make damn fine posters.

Suddenly, all was over.  We parted ways and I took the Red Line home, smiling and shaking my head the whole way about the Tim’s Foot Incident.  It was such a great night, and I am glad to have my ardor for Keane revitalized.

Laura Marling

I would apologize for the length of this blog but I'm not actually sorry.  I've been meaning to try to write down my thoughts about Laura Marling for a long time.  If you must, skip down a few paragraphs to where I talk about the show I went to last night.

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I saw Laura Marling perform last night at the Athenaeum Theater.  I've been lucky enough to see her three times now in the past year.  She's very special and I consider it a privilege to just listen to her music at all.

I only started listening to Laura in the spring of 2011, on Grooveshark in my little bedroom in Madrid.  She released her first album in 2008, when she was just 18, my age that year.  I had begun my small foray into music of the London folk scene not too long before, mainly listening to Mumford & Sons and the odd song by Noah and the Whale.  I had been following a few Twitter accounts of Mumford fans, and one Welsh girl in particular would just NOT SHUT UP about how wonderful Laura Marling was.  I started to get almost annoyed, thinking that this Laura person couldn't possibly be that great.  I caved and looked her up on YouTube, coming upon the music video for the song "New Romantic."  In the video, a small, fair girl who looked to be about 16 sat alone in a grey, empty room on a chair.  She plucked an acoustic guitar with a haunted look on her face.  She began to sing with a stronger, deeper, purer voice than I expected from this doll-like person.  The song was about regret, about mistakes made, about love fading and about the pain that comes with love.  I was so impressed with this song; it was so sad and so beautiful, and it stayed in my head for days.  How, I thought, could this 18-year-old girl have such talent?

In the following months, I listened to her first album, Alas, I Cannot Swim, on repeat, discovering new gems like "Ghosts," "Night Terror," and "My Manic and I," the last of which played in my head all through my trip to Geneva ("He wants to die in a lake in Geneva" is the first line in the song).  I found the songs to be incredibly thought-provoking and delicate, bright and pretty yet sad and shadowy, and very different from anything else I had been listening to.  I realized some time later that the backing vocals were the familiar voices of Marcus Mumford and Winston Marshall, as well as Charlie Fink from Noah and the Whale, who also produced the album.  The blend of their voices is wonderful, just absolute perfection.  After a time I explored her second album, I Speak Because I Can.  It has a similar haunted, dark feeling to it, but her growth as a songwriter is evidenced by the weaving, huge harmonies and new instrumentation. While Alas was more about not understanding one's self, I Speak is much more self-assured, with lyrics like "Let it always be known that I was who I am" and "I tried to be a girl who likes to be used/I'm too good for that."  Songs like "Hope In The Air" swell with harmony and passion.  "Alpha Shallows" I can only describe as sounding like rain, then a thunderstorm, and then the sun finally emerging from behind the clouds.  "Goodbye England (Covered In Snow)", one of my favorite songs by any artist, is a nostalgic look back on leaving behind a life and a lover and understanding that sometimes you have to leave, because you are worth more than what you have.  The last (and title) track is just beautiful, and she still ends her shows with this song.  It starts at an almost whisper, sad and dark ("My husband left me last night..."), and builds and builds to this massive, almost euphoric cry of regret.

Her latest album, A Creature I Don't Know, was released in September of 2011.  The album's first single, "Sophia," came to me in early August, as I was moving into my new apartment, starting over after a bad situation in my previous apartment.  I had no furniture and no internet to download the song, so I listened to "Sophia" on repeat for days through my phone.  It was the most beautiful song I had heard in a long time, and had so many layers it was almost like a symphony, with movements, beginning quiet and dark and gradually picking up speed until it seemed to be this bright, ethereal celebration.  It's hard to describe; it just makes me really happy.  ACIDK truly showcases Laura Marling's songwriting prowess.  It has more of an overarching theme, which is the struggle of human passions and the decisions people make because of them and a call for redemption.  There are repeated mentions of "The Beast" and women calling out to the goddess of wisdom, Sophia, for strength.  The album is, as Laura has said, conversations with people you will never meet.  It is a definite departure from "folk," as it incorporates hefty amounts of bluegrass, jazz, and even, I think, a touch of metal, especially in "The Beast," a truly, well, badass song.  The album takes place in a dusty land where mortals and gods and devils all come together and love and fight.

It was with ACIDK that I first came to see Laura live.  It was in September of 2011, shortly after the album's release.  I convinced (it wasn't difficult) a few friends to see her with me.  I had never felt quite so anxious before seeing another artist live.  I held her in such esteem that I wasn't sure I could handle being in her presence.  Sure enough, when she walked on stage at Lincoln Hall I abruptly stopped speaking and could barely move until the last half of her set, when I managed to get my camera out to have documented proof that the night did happen.  She was small and blonde and beautiful, and her voice and playing were perfect.  She isn't one for stage banter, and she admitted this to the crowd, as well as that she often isn't sure what to say so she just speaks in facts.  She was surprisingly funny when she did speak.  At one point during the show one of her band members said something that started her giggling uncontrollably; this was made worse when "Someone down front just said 'dead puppies'!"  This made it quite difficult for her to play the serious, quiet beginning of "Sophia," but she sobered in time for the build of the song.  She was quite good at connecting with the audience; when she began "Ghosts" everyone started singing along to the quick lyrics, and she complemented us.  It was just a perfect show and I was so happy.  A group of us tried waiting outside the venue after the show to meet her, but aside from glimpsing her step outside for a smoke, she eluded us and we went home, thoroughly satisfied anyway.

Some of my photos from the show

The second time I saw her, she was opening for Florence + The Machine at the Chicago Theater.  As I mentioned in my Florence blog, I found out that they were on the bill together and made an effort to buy tickets but gave up when the tickets I would have gotten were too far away for the price I would have to pay.  When Laura's label, Ribbon Music, tweeted that they were giving away a pair of tickets to the show to whoever retweeted with the best reason why they should get the tickets, I must have tweeted them ten times detailing my love for Laura, including how once I was describing her music to a coworker on the L and another passenger overheard and asked me about her because I seemed so passionate.  Needless to say, I won.  On the day of the show, I met up with my friend Hannah, who I had met at the first Laura show, had forgotten about, and had met again at a Noah and the Whale show (this time we stayed in contact).  She had actually bought the ticket and had a good seat.  My friend Pam joined us, knowing only a few Laura songs but very excited to see her regardless.  When Laura took to the stage, it was just her and her guitar in front of the massive black curtain, playing to a room of hundreds (thousands?) of people.  Her acoustic set was much different from when I first saw her; not only was it shorter because she was the opener this time, but she did many of her slower songs and quite a few new ones.  It was simply beautiful and I wanted to personally shut the mouths of all the people in the theater who talked through all the music, and to Laura paid little mind.  Clearly they did not understand the gift they were being given at that moment.  All too soon, it was over, and to be honest I was satisfied for the night.  But then, of course, Florence happened, but you already know about that.

A talented white blob...

Last night, finally.  You've been patient, dear readers.

Laura has just been touring this album for so long.  I didn't expect to see her so soon after the December show, but she came back to this lovely city again, probably because she likes Intelligentsia coffee so much.  Hannah told me about the show back in March and bought us a pair of tickets when they went on presale.  Months of waiting ensued, and I got caught up in newly discovered artists and wasn't listening to Laura as much.  Now and then, though, her music would pop up and I would be sent back into her world, the music swirling around me like a shimmering swirly thing.  Finally, yesterday, the day had come.  I was so excited/nervous that I had butterflies in my stomach all day, my anxiety a product of getting to see Laura and my ongoing, fruitless search for employment.  I was in such a state in my apartment that I decided to leave earlier than I had planned, which was fairly early.  I wanted to meet her (though I had no idea what I would say) and I knew my best chance of that was getting to the venue early as opposed to waiting after theshow.  My plan was to go to the Lakeview Intelligentsia in case there was a small chance that Laura would be there enjoying her espresso.  She wasn't, of course, but I bought a much-needed iced tea (it was over 90 degrees outside) and hopped on the bus to the Athenaeum Theater.  I was there early.  Really early.  It was assigned seating so it wasn't as if people would have been lined up to get a good spot.  I chatted with the XRT intern that was there punching holes in the sign he was to hang, and then I wandered to the side of the theater and found the stage door, which was behind a fence and the building's dumpsters.  I stood against a nearby tree  and waited.

The venue, which I did not know existed before this show. It's great.

Hannah joined me a little while later and we waited together in the heat.  Suddenly the door opened and Laura emerged in a summery pink dress, with sunglasses on and book in hand.  She went to the steps next to the wall and sat down with her book.  Hannah and I didn't want to interrupt her relaxation so we continued to wait, figuring we'd try to catch her as she went in.  When she got up, she walked past the stage door to talk to a few guys sitting outside the fence about 100 feet away from us.  Again, we didn't want to disturb her so we just stayed put, being really awkward and pretending not to notice her there.  One guy that we had noticed standing at the end of the block in front of the venue earlier walked past us and went up to her.  They were chatting a bit and I saw her smile.  He said goodbye and came over to talk to us.  He had met her in Boston and wanted to apologize for stopping her on the street.  He assured me that she was very nice and it would probably be alright if I asked her to sign my ACIDK LP.  I resolved to do so, and was just about to when she walked away and got on her tour bus.  Though hot, thirsty, and tired, we waited just a bit longer and when she came out, I timidly walked up to her.  "Excuse me, Laura?" She said a quiet "hi" and I told her that I love her music and asked if she would mind signing my album.  She said sure, and asked me my name and how to spell it.  Honestly, it's a wonder I was able to answer those questions.  She was very quiet and shy and was peeping over her sunglasses to look at us.  Hannah spoke to her and after a point, we were just like "Thanks" and she was standing there looking at us and we were standing there looking at her and it was a very awkward moment.  Hannah and I said "Have a good show" at the same moment Laura said "Nice to meet you" (more awkwardness) and we parted ways with her.  My head was spinning with what had just happened, and my nerves were no better.  Inside I ordered a much-needed bottle of water from the bar and updated my various social networks about what had just occurred.  I was still shaking like a leaf, so I found an ATM, got some cash, and bought a beer to calm my quivering self.

Going to frame this and hang it somewhere nice.

We went into our seats and waited a while for the opener.  I chatted a bit with my friend Erica, who had seen Laura with me in September as well.  I messed around on my phone until it was evident the battery was nearly dead.  I checked about 52 times to make sure my LP was not getting dented.  Finally, the opener, Willie Mason, walked on stage armed with his guitar and proceeded to perform.  I enjoyed him; he seems very talented with the guitar and he has a nice voice, not to mention a bit of a Ryan Gosling look to him.  His songs were mainly country-western-ish ballads (like old country, not the recent kind that makes me want to remove my ears), fairly slow and soft, which can be good, except I was already exhausted from standing in the heat and being emotional over the anticipation and the actual meeting of Laura.  So perhaps my overall review of him is not as enthusiastic as he deserves; I've heard many people that saw him on Laura's tour say good things.

Willie Mason

The wait in between Willie Mason and Laura was almost too much to bear.  But bear it I did, because some things are worth waiting for.  After what seemed like an eternity, 93XRT's Frank E. Lee came on stage and introduced Laura, then quickly exited as the band made their entrance.  Laura took to the stage last, her hair let down, wearing a long simple black dress and Nike sneakers (or trainers, as she must call them).  She sat down on a tall stool at the front of the stage with an acoustic guitar and began to pluck the intro to "Rambling Man," one of my very favorite songs of hers.  She really is remarkable live.  Her soft, shy speaking voice transforms into this beautiful, full sound, soaring from deep, throaty notes to pure soprano.  It fills the room and the hearts and minds of those present.  She sang not looking at anyone, but rather above the heads of the audience or, often, the ceiling.  Usually, when I attend concerts, I enjoy singing along to the songs I know, perhaps as a way of asserting my pride as a fan.  Not for Laura.  I didn't even dare mouth them, lest I distract myself in the smallest way from taking in the performance.  It felt right to sit there, reverent and quiet, and just absorb.  When the songs finished, I clapped enthusiastically, but somehow it didn't seem right to cheer loudly.  Some did, which was fine, and some shouted things at her, none of which were mean but it seemed inappropriate--song requests, for example (hello, she has a setlist for a reason; she isn't about to play a song on one person's whim).  But on the whole the audience was good, silent during the songs, as it should be.

She didn't play many songs from her first album.  In fact, I think she only did "Alas, I Cannot Swim."  She began it by herself with the band joining in for the end, and by then she was smiling. After three or four songs, the band left Laura alone on the stage, sitting on her stool under the single spotlight.  At this time she played "Night After Night," the first song I ever heard from ACIDK.  It's one of those songs that needs nothing more than a voice and a guitar, and in fact, anything more would ruin the tone of the song.  She played a medley of two new songs of hers, and I took out my camera and began to film, only to put it away after about thirty seconds in order to fully enjoy.  She played "Goodbye England" during this solo set as well, and I have to admit, as someone who never cries at music, movies, almost anything, I got a bit choked up.  She told the audience before she began that this song was inspired by something her father told her as a girl: Up on a hill in her native Hampshire, England, one winter evening, her father told her that when he is about to die, he would like to come back to that spot just one more time.  This, Laura said, was something that stuck with her over the years, and was also something quite traumatizing to say to a young child.

When her band reemerged, she introduced her band and had each member tell the audience something they'd learned recently.  Her banjo player shared with us a story of how he walked into a Chicago bar and came out with a Chicago Fire t-shirt.  Another member noted that he had recently read a list of "fun facts," none of which was fun, and that no fact is actually fun.  Laura told us about a guidebook about Chicago architecture she had purchased, and how she had discovered that, though she really enjoys looking at it, it is quite boring to read about.  As Chicago architecture enthusiast myself, it makes me very happy that she loves this aspect of my favorite city (also, I agree, it can be boring to read about).

Displaying his new team pride

When the show was nearing the end, Laura explained how her encores work.  "If you want an encore," she said, "this is the last song.  If you don't, this is the second-to-last song."  She began to play the theme to Cinema Paradiso, which transitioned seamlessly into "Sophia."  I could not help smiling, as whatever feeling of elation the song normally gives me (which is quite a lot of elation) was multiplied tenfold live.  It was especially fun to watch the whole band playing it.  I've actually named my guitar "Sophia" after this song, which thankfully did not occur to me to tell her during our brief and awkward encounter.  The last song was "I Speak Because I Can," a fitting closer as I am not sure what could really top its massive effect.  The whole audience joined in for "When you're running up the highway/Singing I'm the king, the king of you all/When you look back to where it started/I'll be there waving you on."  And I am sure the hearts of everyone in the theater swelled as she belted out the final refrain of "Never rode my bike down to the sea/Never quite figured out what I believe/Never got up and said anything worthy/For he for my".

The show was over, and though I was sad it was done, I was so happy and grateful I was able to be there, for the third time in the last year.  Hannah and I left quietly, still processing the night.  I still cannot quite believe that I exchanged words with her and that she signed my ACIDK album, the album that brought me to see her.  Mostly, I am glad to know that beautiful, rich, honest music still exists and am amazed that those who are most truly talented do not seem to know it themselves, that they need only to sit on a stool with sneakers on and a guitar in hand to capture the attention of hundreds of people.  In fact, I am not sure that she desires this attention; however, she simply commands it.

Summer = Dip and Cheap Live Music

On Friday I participated in some decidedly summery activities: the eating of dip and attending a street festival.

Weeks ago I found out that Los Campesinos!, a quite good band from the UK (whose song "You! Me! Dancing!" you may have heard in a Budweiser ad) would be playing at the Taste of Randolph festival in Chicago.  Admission to the fest was only $10, which was right within my budget of an unemployed gig addict.  I'm a fan of LC!, though I can't admit to knowing all of their songs or all the words to the songs I do know (to be fair, their songs have a LOT of words, sung very quickly).  I first discovered them at Lollapalooza in 2009 and hadn't seen them since.  Friday morning, I remembered that they would be playing THAT NIGHT.  I texted Megan to see if she would like to see them with me, and she said yes, despite never having heard of them.  I think we were both craving some sort of cultural activity that normal 22-year-olds would do on a Friday night.

Megan came over a couple hours before we left for the festival and we made a recipe I had found online for Edamame Feta Dip.  After some laborious shelling and food processing, we had this bright green deliciousness:

Add a bag of tortilla chips and black bean salad, and you have a nutritious(ish) meal perfect for hot weather.

We left for Taste Of Randolph, sufficiently stuffed so we would not be tempted to buy food at the fest.  After some good old CTA transfer confusion, we arrived, not too far from Harpo Studios (I've been here for 4 years and had never seen it).  I had never heard of this particular festival before, but its popularity became apparent as we slowly weaved our way through the crowd to the stage.  We were about 20 minutes early, and had a relatively good view of the stage, besides the usual mountain of tall people in front of us (it's for this reason that I often try to get to shows early so I can stand in front of the stage, view unobstructed).  As LC! set up, we nearly had heart palpitations from the bass drum booming through the crazy-loud speakers.

The crowed cheered enthusiastically when Los Campesinos! took to the stage and launched into "By Your Hand", the big single from their latest album.  LC! has 7 members (five guys and two girls) and they all have such energy on the stage.  They played for about an hour I think.  I knew probably about a third of the songs, unlike the group standing behind us who sang along and occasionally attempted to mosh.  I'm all for enthusiasm and dancing, but in my opinion, intentionally crashing into your fellow concert-goers is just bad manners.  But that's just par for the course, and I consider it part of my training for Lollapalooza.

Playing with the fish eye effect. 

The band seemed to be having a great time.  The lead singer, Gareth, told the crowd this was their first show of the tour and when the crowd cheered, he questioned why.  LC! were all in especially good spirits, all decked out in their England soccer jerseys because England had won 3-2 against... well, I can't remember, which makes me a prime specimen of American soccer--er, football--ignorance.  Gareth observed that Americans are really into sports, but only sports that no one else in the world plays.  Fair enough.

The band sporting their England jerseys

One of the reasons I like LC! is their tendency to write songs that sound really happy and jubilant, until you listen to the lyrics, which are, quite frankly, depressing and hopeless.  I love happy-sad songs.  Unlike typical sad ballads, LC!'s music makes me want to dance around like a crazy person, lots of jumping and shimmying and whatnot.  I sang along with the crowd to my favorite songs, like "You! Me! Dancing!", "We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed", and "Death To Los Campesinos!"

Sadly, the show came to an end and we made our way out through the festival crowds.  I hope some of the attendees who were unfamiliar with LC! were left with some new music to Spotify when they got home.  And even if they didn't love them, you really can't complain about $10 to see a fun band outdoors to kick off summer in Chicago.

(Of course I took loads of pictures, to celebrate the return of my camera.)

Clearly this is his favorite position at the mic

The night ended with a hellish CTA experience due to construction on the track, giving us 2 hours in an un-air-conditioned L car and making me fear I would be stuck at Howard forever, which no one ever, ever wants.  But we survived and when we got back to my apartment we watched a cute-to-depressing Lifetime movie called "Listen To Your Heart" about a songwriter who falls in love with a deaf girl and then freaking DIES.  I don't care if I spoil the ending for you.  I'm sparing you the heartbreak.