Sammy Reigns Supreme

I'm sure you've had this happen to you:
You have a memory of something being amazing, of that thing being the absolute best version of itself that it possibly could have been. Then you get the chance to experience it again-- You know it can't possibly be as good, that you must have been over-exaggerating its greatness in your mind, and so you prepare yourself to be disappointed- well maybe not disappointed, but maybe you lower your expectations so as to avoid disappointment. Then, THEN, you get to experience it and you think to yourself "What the hell was I on? This thing is just as freakin amazing as I remember it being!" For some that thing might be an old movie, it might be grandma's chocolate cake, or a roller coaster you used to ride as a kid...

For me that thing is seeing Sam Roberts Band live in concert.

I love Sam Roberts. Not in some creepy I-want-to-have-his-babies kind of way, just in the good old fashioned band-crush I-want-to-watch-him-sing-all-the-time-forever kind of way. The first time I saw Sam Roberts band perform was the moment I truly fell in love with music. It was at The Kee to Bala, up near my cottage and it was the summer after We Were Born in a Flame had just come out. I hadn't liked "Brother Down" at all-  I thought "Don't Walk Away Eileen was pretty good - but mostly I just loved the idea of going to see a concert up at the cottage (in the same venue my uncles had gone to see shows when they were teenagers...) and Sam Roberts was the only act playing who I had vaguely heard of, so I convinced my best friend to go with me.

Walking into The Kee was the first time I ever felt at home in a concert venue. Everyone was wearing flip flops and sweatpants, their hair still wet from swimming or stuffed under a hat so they didn't have to worry about washing it. When the opener came on stage (Danny Michel if I remember correctly) it became quickly apparent that the building was equally as 'cottagy' (aka shakey- a boat house whose floor all but literally bows when everyone jumps...) and I was already loving it. By the time Sammy finished the first song I was having the time of my life. In all honestly, the only downside is that every time I am about to see Sam Roberts Band play live I think "This can't possibly live up to that first time at The Kee..."

Then I am proven wrong.
Every. Single. Time.

Sam Roberts is the most consistently awesome band I have ever, and likely will ever, have the privilege to see perform live. Hands Down. Hells, I know several people who don't even like Sam Roberts who will drop everything to see them play! They can take a room-full of people who would normally never even be in the same section of town, and turn them into a mob of like-minded singing and dancing happy-people in the time it takes to sing one chorus of "Where have all the good people gone."  A soccer mom, a punk with a mohawk, a hipster teenager, a twelve year old kid, a biker dude, a square dad, and everyone in between. Why? Because they are SO. GOOD. LIVE.

Tonight I saw Sam Roberts Band at The National Arts Centre, here in Ottawa. I usually don't have the highest opinion of theatre venues for concerts- not the kinds of concerts I enjoy anyways- but Sam Roberts Band took the normal weirdness of rock-bands-in-theatre-settings and just threw it out the window. Threw it out the window and stomped on it while playing incessantly amazing guitar riffs. As usual.

I had my classic "Oh man, I forgot how much I love Nuge [Dave Nugent, the guitarist]!" moment a few seconds into the first song (it happens every time. EVERY TIME. I have no idea how I always forget about it, but I do. Its quite an odd habit...) and it just continued to get better from there. They rocketed through raucous and infinitely spectacular renditions of "Detroit 67," "Brother Down," "Them Kids," and my all time favourite "Dead End," (to name but a few) while slower ones like "Taj Mahal" and "Uprising Down Under" (which I don't think I've heard him perform live in at least five or six years... ) provided us with moments in which to catch our breath between the otherwise-non-stop dancing (despite being at the front of an incredibly INCREDIBLY high balcony. That's just the power of SRB, they are so good that they make you forget about the very real possibility of death via falling off of a balcony while dancing your feet off...).

Speaking of dancing, I also feel it necessary to mention the spectacular fancy footwork of Mr Dave Nugent. Its always a daunting task to share a stage with someone as charismatic as Sam Roberts, but Nuge always manages to steal my attention for a good portion of the show. His absorbing guitar playing, and enthusiastically sweaty shuffle punctuate the mid-song jam-sessions in the best possible way. The very few moments when I find my attention wandering (usually maybe once or twice per performance, often near the end of a particularly long instrumental break) I just direct my gaze stage left and am immediately drawn back into the action. I'm not someone who inherently finds guitar playing intriguing, but I could watch Nuge play guitar All. Day. Long. He just so clearly loves what he is doing that you can't help but be drawn in. Next time you're at a Sammy show, take a moment and direct your attention nugewards- you won't be disappointed.

So-- fantastic musicianship, jam sessions that expertly walk the line between wall-of-sound and melodic goldmine, enthusiastic playing and charismatic singing- what else can I say? All the pieces are there, but its really the gestalt of the performance- the sum being so much more than its parts- that's the bread and butter of Sam Roberts Band live. Its the way everyone jumps to their feet the moment the band walks on stage. The way every single song feels like the best song of the night. The way you can't help but jump and dance around clapping your hands. The way Sam spends ten minutes at the end of the show shaking everyone's hands and thanking them for coming (Still! From the tiny hundred-person bars to Massey Hall and the NAC, he is STILL walking down the stage thanking people for coming. That's amazing, even for a Canadian!) The way everyone has an amazing time, the audience, the band, the ushers (yes, I saw you dancing in your vest and bow tie...)... even listening to a live performance now on my computer all of those things come through. When they're in front of an audience The Sam Roberts Band comes alive in a way that makes you realize what being alive means. And that's really something. That's Music with a capital 'M'.

-E

If you've never heard Sam Roberts Band LIVE take a listen to the CBC recording of their Massey Hall Performance last summer- though I have to warn you, you may have the sudden urge to check out the Sam Roberts touring schedule...

Tiny Chipmunks, Tiny Chipmunks Inside of My Heart

So at Folkfest last night I had an experience which has become strangely familiar to me over the course of the past few months- that of falling completely in love with the band playing on stage. At times its with a band I already adore (I am not sure that I am actually capable of explaining how much I feel about Elliott Brood...) or one I have never even heard of (hi Graveyard Train. Yes. You are crazy awesome.  Mostly Crazy. But also Awesome.) but it is a feeling that can be topped by very few things in life. Actually that statement is mostly assumption, as I am simply guessing that seeing your kid for the first time ought to feel better than falling in love with a band, but I would also not be surprised if it felt exactly the same... that's how much I love this feeling.

The most recent subject of my adoration (type two, the "never before heard of them" kind) is Punch Brothers. Its the mandolin, its the banjo, its the low voices, their olde tymey suits and their charming ways that combine to make a magical wonderfullness that makes me so excited that I sprinted from one end of the grounds to the complete opposite corner (in the middle of their set) to purchase a CD, then ran all the way back, missing only one song ( Rye Whiskey is a perfect example of a song of theirs that elicits such a response from/in me...).

And its not just an idea, its not just a feeling, its an actual physical response. I was trying to explain to El what I meant by that and this was the best I could do- their songs make me feel like there are tiny chipmunks running around inside of my heart. Like their little tiny hands are kneeding the inside of my chest, hugging and tugging at my heart strings. Crawling around in there like its where they belong, like they always live there, only they don't let me know it unless they're really really happy. I don't know if that makes any sense at all, but its exactly what it feels like, and it feels both wonderful and super weird all at once. It came out of my mouth, this explanation, and it seemed the only and most perfect time I have ever described the feeling.  And its a feeling I've had before. Its a feeling I've had about music (about certain bands or certain songs) for quite a while. About Sam Roberts, about the White Stripes, about the Decemberists and the Shins, but recently very often about Elliot Brood, Old Man Leudecke, Dry River Caravan and Graveyard Train. And so I found myself suddenly wondering; how why and HOW did it take me so long to realize that I love adore and LOVE bluegrass music!?! 

I am happy being someone who likes many different types of music (I would never say "I like all kind of music" cuz to me that's just something someone says if they don't really like music at all...) , but I always used to add the caveat "but not country, never country"- and that made me happy, I was ok with that as my definition of my sphere of music-liking. Except that it was never true. Big Wreck takes a lot from country, as did CCR, and The Lovin' Spoonful- all favourite bands of my youth. The first time I saw "Oh Brother Where Art Thou?" I did nothing but listen to the soundtrack for weeks... 'Jackson' by Johnny Cash has also been known to lodge itself into my skull and not let go... and don't even get me started on banjo- oh banjo! the most inexplicably sexy and wonderful instrument on the planet.

So I'm giving up another part of who i thought I was, taking on yet another thing that the teenage me would have not only scoffed at, but quite possibly never-spoken-to-me-again over- I no longer hate country music. Pop Country- the Carrie Underwoods and the Kenny Chesneys of the world- is still safely outside of my sphere of like, but prog-bluegrass, death-country and alt-country? I likes em. There I said it. How can I not admit to liking that makes my tiny heart chipmunks so happy?

What You Love Begets What You Love

My roommate has a great philosophy of home decorating: If you love everything in a room, it will all go together just because you love it all. And it works! It works for lots of reasons that I could pick apart and logic-ize, but I choose to focus on the less tangible reason for its utter success: Things you love love to be around other things you love. And not just in your abode, in life in general.

There are many things I adore. Not all things (though I realize it might seem that way after reading all these blogposts ;o) but there are certainly a few faithful go-to things which stay with me, which offer me solace and comfort and joy, things which define me. The colour turquoise, murder mysteries, existential artwork, beards, music, mapping (oh mapping…)- I could go on listing them off, but that would be a whole post in and of itself! The important bit is that many, if not most, of the things I adore have very little in common outside of the fact that I love them. Usually.

Every once in a while (or more often if I’m really paying attention) several of the things intersect, creating a fairly magical and incredibly satisfying moment of collusion. A moment when you can just feel one of those invisible puzzle pieces click into place. When the universe seems to be saying ‘Yeah, I know you exist, you thought I forgot about you but you were wrong!”

Sometimes its easily explained away- maybe you forgot that thing one was the original inspiration for your interest in thing two, maybe they both came from thing three, some long-lost original connection (maybe you saw a roller derby movie and wanted to go to roller derby and then just happened to be in a certain place at a certain time when there was an awesome roller derby double header happening)... But sometimes its two things that exist in different spheres, that came from different original universes who just suddenly decided to get together for a little party, just for you.

I recently started listening to Collider by Sam Roberts Band (there is a whole sidebar here about listening to a CD vs listening to a CD, but I’ll save that for another time- suffice it to say that the italicized version is more… involved ).  As often happens, the realization of which song was my favourite arrived via unending-in-head-singing (complete with skipped verses, messed up lyrics, and stuck-in-a-loop guitar solos). This usually also means that I have no idea of the title of said song  (despite spending days and days with it) and eventually results in the inevitable ‘Oh thats what its called!”

So I had that experience with this one- stuck in my head on repeat, driving my roommate crazy with my incessant whistling, keeping myself up at night until finally it was playing on the computer and I happened to glance at the ‘track playing’ bar.

Without a Map.

Now maybe I subconsciously knew there was some reference to mapping in the song (despite completely falsely singing any such references prior to my discovery of the title of the song), maybe I just like songs about maps because I love mapping, but I choose to believe that its just one of those things.

Nice one universe.

 

 

Sam Roberts Does Massey Hall OR How on Earth Do People Sit During Concerts?

How do people sit at concerts? No really, HOW DO PEOPLE SIT AT CONCERTS!?!?!?
I'm not talking about the symphony or the opera, okay okay I understand how people sit at those type of concerts, I mean how do you sit at a rock concert? How? How do you feel the bass and sing along, and not stand up? I am baffled- As apparently also were several other concert-goers at last night's Sam Roberts show at Massey Hall... more on that in a moment...

Sam Roberts was one of my first concert loves. Sam Roberts at the Key to Bala. I think that was the first time I fell in love with a concert, the first time I felt like i was on the moon afterward. Cuz Sam Roberts- he is good live. What I mean is, he is GOOD live. I mean GOOD. I challenge you to see him live and not enjoy it. Seriously. My friend El doesn't really even like him on CD, but will drop everything to see him in concert. Its the energy! I know that sounds all lame and hippy-dippy, but its really the only way to describe it- The Sam Roberts Band have great energy on stage. They always look like they're having the time of their lives, they sing/play their hearts out, the sweat everywhere (you say 'gross', I say 'sexy') and they sound GOOD.

I've lost count of how many times I've seen them live (Once three times in four days...! OK, ok, I was going through a bit of a Sam Roberts phase...) but they never disapoint. And neither do the fans. There are many things I love about a Sam Roberts show, but the fans have gotta be right up there. The most random people love Sam Roberts. Seven year olds love Sam Roberts. Hard-core punks love Sam Roberts. Hippies with dreadlocks down to their knees love Sam Roberts. And those who love him LOVE him. No really, LOVE him, and don't care who knows it.

Last nights show was no exception. Now I should likely start off by saying that  I haven't seen Sam Roberts play in a few years, and he did not disappoint even one little bit (the addition of a horn section just made it that much better), but I did go through the all-familiar concert psych-out before it started. You know, the I-haven't-seen-this-band-in-a-while-and-I-used-to-love-them-so-much-I-hope-I-am-not-just-gonna-be-disappointed psych out? Yeah, you never have to worry about that with Sammy. Everything I remembered about their shows was upheld with remarkable intergrity. What I did, hoever, forget, whas how entertaining the other fans were.

Casein point: sitting down.

Exhibit A) The soccer Mom. Older Lady, balcony, tight tan pants and an overly flowery shirt. Very excited. standing. Did not care at all that no one else around her was (apparently people think being in the balcony means you shouldn't stand up... bollocks. Stand up.). Awesome.

Exhibit B) Dude with the mohawk and dirty white tank top. totally opposite end of the standing-spectrum. He was standing. He was clapping. He was singing along (which in and of itself was super entertaining), and he was having none of anyone also not doing those three things. At one point he literally ran down the aisle, took another guy by the shoulders and started making him dance. Again, Awesome.

Alright so maybe I'm not exhibit A or B (not on the outside anyways...) but I secretly would love to be either of them (or both!) because here's the thing... ok I have no thing, I have no big eloquent reason, just a feeling. Just a feeling that if you're sitting down at a rock concert, you are missing out.

So here is a simple rule: If you can feel the bass, you should be standing up. Done.