Two nights in a row. Two straight nights, I headed into New York for shows without even bringing my "real camera." For the first time in a while, I went back to the roots of CoolDad Music and attended shows purely as a fan with an eye toward maybe writing about them and maybe not. Now, I couldn't go two straight nights taking absolutely no pictures; and of course I was gonna write something, especially since the whole experience felt so good on so many levels.
On Thursday, Gentleman Jim and I headed to Bushwick's Market Hotel to catch the second of two New York-area shows this week by The Thermals. Joining the Portland, Oregon band on that bill were Philadelphia's Amanda X and Thermals' tourmates, Summer Cannibals. I took no pictures.
It was pretty weird for a while there. Market Hotel is right next to -- I mean right next to -- the subway (or el train in Bushwick, I guess), and the trains pass right by outside a big window. There's a window onto the platform right behind the stage, and it makes for some dramatic images. I saw so many pictures I wanted to take. Summer Cannibals' lead singer, Jessica Boudreaux, silhouetted against that back window. Thermals' frontman, Hutch Harris, staring into a green stage light as he sang. There were a couple of photographers up front using flash; and, almost every time I muttered, "take the shot" under my breath, I'd see a burst of light.
I mentioned all this to Jim, a sound man, and he said, "We've made our fun our jobs. Kind of the opposite of 'do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life.'" And I guess that's true to an extent for me. Taking pictures at shows has really become part of the way I experience them; but it was almost as fun to say, "There's one. Oooh. There's another one," while not being weighted down with gear. It also gave me the opportunity to watch a show without fighting for a clear sight line to the band that was appropriate for the focal length of my lens.
And it was a great show to watch without all those concerns. Amanda X won me over about two songs into their set. Summer Cannibals were noisy and psych-rocky, Boudreaux a real personality on vocals and guitar. The Thermals just blew me away, focusing heavily on songs from The Body, The Blood, The Machine, which has its 10th anniversary this year, and their latest album, We Disappear. Boudreaux joined the band on guitar helping to fill out some of the album arrangements that would be difficult to play as a trio, and the crowd went berserk from the first chord.
As we drove home, I relished that feeling of having just attended -- not having necessarily just "covered" -- a show I really loved.
On Friday, Bob Mould played Webster Hall with Ted Leo. The last two times that Mould came through the area, I fully planned to have CoolMom join me. She is a fan of the highest order. As is often the case, however, circumstances made that impossible. Twice. This time, it all worked out. CoolMom finally had her date with Mr. Mould, and all would be right with the world.
It was an early show, and we took our places along the railing just after 7pm. No photo pass this time. No Sony mirrorless camera. I did bring my Lumix LX7, the camera I used for pictures here for the first year or year and a half of the blog. It's a point and shoot, so I never get hassled about bringing it into venues. We were standing first row, stage right.
With CoolMom's encouragement, I snapped a few pics during Ted Leo's opening solo set; but, for the most part, I just watched and listened as Leo charmed as he always does. He played a mix of old songs like "Me and Mia" and "Timorous Me" and new, unreleased material.
When Mould and his band, which absolutely slays and includes Jason Narducy on bass and Jon Wurster on drums, took the stage and rattled off a pair of songs from Sugar's Copper Blue ("A Good Idea," "Changes") followed by the big "hits" from Mould's latest records ("The End of Things," "The Descent," "I Don't Know You Anymore") without a pause in between, I could feel the warmth emanating from CoolMom right next to me. The band were taking no prisoners and squeezing as much as possible out of the early set.
I couldn't resist taking a few pics. Bob Mould was positioned stage left -- about as far from us as he could be -- which made me feel a little less compelled to go crazy shooting-wise, and my camera spent a good portion of the show sitting idle in my hands or in my back pocket.
By the time we got to the Hüsker Du portion of the evening, CoolMom was smiling from ear to ear; and I was letting the sonic wave wash over me. After "Hardly Getting Over It," she looked at me and said, "I always loved that song."
I screamed along with Jon Wurster, who handled frontman duties while Ted Leo played drums, on a cover of The Ramones' "Beat on the Brat" during the encore; and the whole place sang along with closer, "Makes No Sense At All."
The show ended by 10. As we walked to the car, CoolMom said to me, "When he opened with all those songs, I almost started crying." I've felt that way many times, but it's always great to be reminded how great it feels, how utterly transforming it can be, to lose yourself at a show. For me, it feels even better than nailing a perfect shot.
The shots I did take of both Bob Mould and Ted Leo are in the galleries.
