Recently in Music Category
The music haunts me everywhere I go. It's a vaguely Latin beat, an alternating pounding of bass and drums, a boom-chik-chik-buh-chik repetitive pattern of droning madness, and it never seems to have any lyrics. I hear it drive into the Coors Park at all hours of the night. I hear it driving down Lee Highway, but never on the radio. And today at the Nationals game, Jesus Flores had something similar as one of his at-bat music clips. Now I'm wondering: where can you find out what each player used as his music, and will this finally settle the mystery once and for all? Or will the magnitude of the knowledge simply cause me to go completely insane? CAN I HANDLE THE TRUTH?
By September 6, I had seen Dave Matthews Band live in some form or fashion seventeen times, in six different states. But this isn't a story about my fandom with a band. By September 6, I had been to Lane Stadium dozens of times over the course of the last seven years, with the seats filled with large crowds of students and alumni cheering on the Hokies. But this isn't a story about football. By September 6, I had even been on Worsham Field twice, for my own graduation and for a post-game celebration. But this isn't a story about joining that elite club who has walked on one of the most revered fields in Virginia sports.
On September 6, four acts joined the Hokie Nation in Lane Stadium for a five-and-a-half-hour concert. It was billed as another event to promote healing and the living of life to its fullest. The stage, constructed over the previous week, was huge, towering above the HokieVision and making the largest stadium in Virginia feel a little more like a living room. The crowd was loud. Maybe not as thunderous as during a third down play on an autumn Saturday afternoon, but the students, faculty, staff, and alumni who were crowded from the East Stands to the West were still boisterous, happy, and apt to pick up a "Let's Go Hokies!" cheer at the first sign of an on-stage break.
You see, once more, we were all together, in much the same way that we showed resilience and unity in the direct aftermath of April 16. The same students that couldn't be baited to say something negative about the school during the media swarm were there, clapping and cheering and singing along. The faculty who continue to stand behind President Steger were there. That unbreakable Hokie spirit was everywhere. The artists felt it, too: John Mayer said "this is how the world should be all the time," Phil Vassar elicited cheers by bringing Coach Beamer to the stage, and even the semi-controversial Nas sent heartfelt messages of love out to all of us. And then there was Dave Matthews, who reached a level of onstage joyousness and gratitude unparalleled in my 17 previous shows, matching the generosity he first showed by proposing and organizing this concert.
I don't know how many of the audience were diehard DMB fans coming into the night, but we certainly were treated to one of the best and most energetic sets by the band that I have ever seen. The treat wasn't even seeing the historic crossovers between John Mayer's band and DMB; it was in the fabric of the show itself. The band members carefully chose their songs for maximum effect. While each DMB show is unique, there are still a number of songs in the band's repertoire that might not have been appropriate in the setting. They passed over all of those, opting for uplifting, joyous, or soul-searching numbers, up to and including an impromptu stadium singalong breakdown of Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds." For those five-and-a-half hours, the artists who so graciously donated their time and performances strived to tell us that every little thing was going to be all right.
Somewhere in the middle of the evening, after DMB took the stage and were rollicking through a chorus of "Two Step," something made me look a row ahead and to my right. A college-aged couple stood there, buffered by empty seats to the left and right of them, alone but embracing each other tightly. The girl had her head buried into her friend's shoulder, who was bravely facing the stage with tear-rimmed eyes. Indeed, "Two Step" can be a powerful performance live, but I could tell there was a deeper meaning behind their reaction. I thought back to the Drillfield memorials, the sandwich boards, the tributes jotted by passersby striving for meaning, for connection through a few words written in marker. I thought back to a few messages I'd read laid at the foot of one of the 32 Hokie stones in front of Burruss, particularly the ones from friends missing the sounds of their lost friend's guitar playing - perhaps another guy just having fun playing Dave songs. I turned back to the stage with a deeper appreciation for what I was seeing.
The couple left shortly after I saw them; I can't say when. But at once, I wanted to drink in every beat and every note remaining in the night. For them, for the families, and for the lost - celebrating life that is so short but so sweet. Celebrating the strength that we can all find in each other. Celebrating the simple fact that we are Virginia Tech.
Go Hokies.
Don't tell anybody, but I've set myself up for a mini-vacation-at-home this week. I'm in the middle of it right now, actually. You might have noticed, but Independence Day fell on a Wednesday this year, which left those of us who enjoy Federal holidays with a conundrum: extend the weekend from the week before, extend this coming weekend, or just have the one day off? To me, the second option was the only option.
This has left me with the following activities: playing lots of guitar (trying to build those callouses back up), writing music, reading books, being outside (when it's not raining), drinking green tea, watching movies, painting mental pictures, and going to musical concerts. Oh, and today I helped out at Gina's workplace by taking pictures of the restaurant's food for future use somewhere. At one point, I'm pretty sure I photographed J.J. Redick's steak salad, and I didn't wake up this morning being able to say that, so I'd have to count this as one of the good days.
I also just returned from my first Wolf Trap show of the summer (hopefully the first of several): Pat McGee Band, Carbon Leaf, and Stephen Kellogg & The Sixers. I've seen them all before, but I thought the three bands flowed together for a nice bill. Kellogg's easy folk-rock was a great warm-up. Carbon Leaf pulled out the stops for their first-ever Wolf Trap show, and Pat McGee invited a slew of guests to join PMB onstage, ranging from original member and James Taylor soundalike Al Walsh to a horn section from New Jersey. They rocked their hearts out, and that's probably because Pat McGee Band is one of the hardest working bands in showbusiness. Their story is similar to Carbon Leaf: they've kept a certain level of success and a homebase in Virginia and are slowly working their way around the country. And while PMB's sound has shifted somewhat since the first time I saw them in the Water Street Gallery in Blacksburg, they're still a very good live band, also much like Carbon Leaf. I can't recommend them highly enough.
And can I just say again that I love Wolf Trap?
Martha told me that my entries have been too long lately, so that's it for now.
The past two evenings, I've been transferring my core group of albums to a new Giant CD Binder. This one goes with me on any moderately long car ride. I still don't put a lot of faith in FM iPod transmitters, and my car isn't wired for an MP3 player (I missed that boat by a model year), so I still have to "make do" with those crazy CDs the old people are talking about. I'm just dreading the day when CDs are thought of as obsolete, because I still think there are a number of problems with a completely digital music industry (namely sound quality and backups), but Steve Jobs' recent decision to offer copy-protection-free music on iTunes is a small step in the right direction. I do, however, think that digital-only releases are the future and are a positive for up-and-coming musicians everywhere. Even so, I will still prefer to have a hard copy in the form of a CD for as long as they'll sell them.
Which brings me back to the Giant CD Binder. It's a big deal for me, and I wonder if anyone else has one. I think it's absolutely crucial to have the right mix and amount of albums available for any kind of situation or mood on the road. I follow three simple rules:
1. The latest purchases go up front.
2. Always have the location of my favorite bands memorized for emergency switch-outs.
3. The binder's size and proportion filled must be disproportionately larger than the length of the trip.
Simple!