Whereas my experience with the New Orleans Believers Never Die Part Deux show Sunday was 100 percent as-if-out-of-a-dream perfection, my Atlanta experience was frustrating as hell.
My friend Jason drove over from Mississippi and met me at my apartment shortly after I arrived home from teaching class Thursday afternoon. We got on the road as quickly as possible and had a lovely road trip for the first few hours, listening to music and chatting. As soon as we got to Atlanta, the Interstate became a parking lot. It took us 90 minutes from that point in maddening bumper-to-bumper traffic to get to the arena.
The tickets said 7 p.m., and we arrived at the venue at 7:20, so I figured we'd miss Hey Monday but make it to our seats just in time to see whoever was playing next. When we got in, though, I heard the unmistakable sound of All Time Low (my favorite of the four opening acts) emitting from the house. I was crushed. Being that I absolutely had to pee, I beelined for the ladies' room, where I learned that Hey Monday had come on at 6:30 and ATL at 7, so their set was nearly finished.
We opted to grab a quick bite before heading to our seats. Gwinnett Arena is a fabulous, sparkling facility with great concessions. I wound up with a pretty delicious bowl of nachos - and by nachos I mean fresh chips, black beans, tomatoes and good queso sauce, not the usual stale chips and orange goop one typically finds at such establishments.
Our cushy seats were four rows from the floor a section over from the stage (pretty much directly across from where our seats were in New Orleans Sunday). We hadn't been sitting long before Cobra Starship came out. There was nothing appreciably different about their set from when I saw them a few days earlier and danced my ass off, but I couldn't get into it for a while. I was just heartbroken over missing ATL and exhausted from the ridiculous drive. I perked up some when they played "Snakes on a Plane" (which Hey Monday's Cassadee came out to sing with them) and was really ready to dance and have fun by the time they played their set closer, "Guilty Pleasure." Drummer Nate Navarro is from Atlanta, so his family was there watching from the wings of the stage.
Metro Station also performed the same set they did in New Orleans, banter and all. I learned last night that lead singer Trace Cyrus is the son of the infamous Billy Ray (which makes him Miley/Hannah Montana's brother). Wonder who the favorite child in that family is...
During Metro Station's set, this couple came and stood right in front of us, blocking our view while they tried to figure out where their seats were. When the two girls next to me decided to go for a potty break, the couple sat in their seats, only to have to move when the girls came back. They wound up a little down the row and disappeared a few songs into Fall Out Boy's set, never to return. Weird.
As the crew set up for FOB, we enjoyed quite a dance-off in the stands. Guys were shaking it like nobody's business, stripping their shirts off. The crowd ate it up.
Finally, it was time for Fall Out Boy. I felt a lot mellower when the lights dimmed than I had in New Orleans. But, after the whole riot opener, when the boys finally appeared, I felt a little skip in my heart.
During the first four songs in New Orleans, the vibe onstage was fairly laid-back. I contributed it to the suit "characters" then, but they rocked out on those numbers pretty hard last night.
The set was identical, except instead of playing "Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes" (the song that made me so excited Sunday), they played "'tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today." It seems they're switching out which song they play off Take This to Your Grave, other than the standards "Grand Theft Autumn" and "Saturday." I found it funny that the song I made my concert countdown song of the day on Facebook from that album each week was the one they played at that show. (Purely coincidence, of course, but cool nonetheless.) Just as Patron Saint made my night Sunday, Mick made it last night.
The banter was pretty similar. Obviously, the happy birthday bit and ensuing Shamwow comment were missing. At that point in the show, Justin came out and gave Pete a picture to sign. Pete told us that they had gotten a little camera in Japan that immediately prints out the picture (a digital version of the old Polaroid, I imagine), and that Justin had been taking photos all night that the band was signing. He said that if we saw Justin, we should ask him for one.
Pete also changed up his introduction to the "Beat It" cover a little bit. He told us there were three things that were great about 2009 so far: that "fucking cowboy" was out of the White House, Blink-182 reunited, and Michael Jackson was dancing again. The only other real difference in the performance was that Pete went up into the stands during the last chorus of "America's Suitehearts."
Patrick spoke a little bit. Alex from All Time Low had come out to harmonize with Patrick on the final chorus of Grand Theft Autumn, and as he left the stage, Pete told the crowd to give it up for him. When Alex "woo-hooed" himself, Patrick called him out on it, with an adorable little giggle.
Sitting on the opposite side of the stage and maybe a few seats further away from it provided a much better vantage point than what we had Sunday, giving me a great view of Joe, Patrick and Andy (whereas Pete and Patrick were the only ones of whom we had a good view Sunday).
Another major difference that affected my consumption of the show was that my Jason wasn't with me. Although I missed him terribly, my "hormonal" reaction to the boys (especially Patrick - yes, the silly girl crush is back) was much more pronounced. At one point I texted to my concert-buddy Jason (because it was too loud to tell him orally) that Patrick has the best thighs. Yowza.
Although the over-all experience was not as good as in New Orleans, I would say that I enjoyed Fall Out Boy's set just as much if not more. I don't know how I'll be able to wait three more weeks to see them again.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Hate me baby, maybe I'm a piece of art (Fall Out Boy review, Part Deux)
As long as I've been excited for Sunday's Fall Out Boy show, I would have thought that waiting another 3 hours, through four opening acts and all the intervening tear down/set up, would be agonizing. Fortunately, the four bands were incredible.
So as to avoid a super-lengthy review, I shan't go into much detail on each band. The audience was not terribly into Hey Monday, although they gave an energetic and fun 20-minute performance consisting entirely of songs I'd heard on their MySpace. The other bands attracted a much more rousing crowd reaction (except when Pete came out to sing/scream on one of Hey Monday's songs). The folks in the stands remained firmly planted in their seats for Hey Monday, but many of them rose and danced for the other acts.
Metro Station, All Time Low and Cobra Starship each performed 30-35 minutes. The synth-poppy Metro Station was most memorable for frontman Trace's wild guitar slinging and jumps from atop the pink drum kit. All Time Low entertained the crowd not only with their pop-punk tunes but also with witty banter, all delivered in front of equipment boxes on which the words "Giant Douche" were emblazoned. Jack (ATL's guitarist) also made his way to the back of the crowd, where concert-goers snapped pictures of themselves with him while he played.
As each successive opening act performed, their respective crews peeled off another layer of equipment from the stage. By the time Cobra Starship came on, there was enough room for columns of flashing light - the first real "effects" we enjoyed over the course of the show.
While Fall Out Boy's crew arranged the stage for our long-anticipated headliner, a couple kids in the next section entertained the nearby crowd with some raunchy booty dancing in the aisle. The way the audience went wild, you would have thought the band had come out.
Screens in several sections framed the drum riser on the right, left, and bottom, and images were projected on them during several songs on FOB's set list. After the lights dimmed, the screens displayed riot footage interspersed with images of the boys running from backstage, wearing suits. A line of red police car lights spun on stage as sirens blared.
When the boys finally came out wearing those suits (Patrick also sported a goofy blond wig and Pete, a cosmetic "black eye"), they were accompanied by four big guys in SWAT gear, two of whom held drums which they beat to help Andy out with the percussive intro of "Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes."
Pete explained after the opening tune that their show was intended to provide a commentary on the power and wealth of corporate America. Political rants dominated his banter through most of the show, but particularly between songs for the first quarter of the set while the guys remained in their suits. (Actually, Andy shed his blazer pretty quickly. It was weird to see him wearing clothes at all; he typically drums only in shorts.) The dominant message, aside from corporate greed, was about the misdirection of American attention on frivolity such as celebrity news rather than things that really matter (such as conditions in Sri Lanka and the Congo).
Pete actually was uncharacteristically mellow and serious throughout the show, although he did lighten up a bit after the costume change, which came after the fourth song of the set. During the costume change, the screens alternately displayed a half-naked Pete changing and having make-up applied and the other three band members already in their new duds, snacking and checking their watches.
The boys re-emerged in dark pants/shirts and the cool bomber jackets they debuted when they performed on Leno (Andy and Joe both shed theirs after the fifth song). Patrick had on his signature hat and, surprisingly, his glasses. Although Pete didn't do a whole lot of his typical acrobatics, Joe's hair flipping and crazy spins provided plenty of frenetic activity. Joe visited our side of the stage several times, and Patrick (who remains in the center most of the time) even came over for a couple (very short) visits.
Between-song banter after the costume change included a birthday tribute to FOB videographer Justin. Patrick led a "Happy Birthday" singalong, and a cake was hurled in the general vicinity of Justin's face (though most of it ended up on the stage). As crew attempted to clean it up with towels, Pete suggested that a Shamwow would accomplish the task much easier.
Toward the end of the set, Pete had us do "the wave." Another bit of memorable banter occurred when Pete introduced "She's My Winona" with a "Fuck you" at Johnny Depp (who dated Winona Ryder long ago).
Members of the opening bands re-appeared on stage for several of the songs on FOB's set. Hey Monday's Cassadee came out to sing the final chorus of "Sugar, We're Going Down," and Mike took Pete's bass for him at the end of Saturday so Pete could get into the crowd and scream the lyrics. Gabe from Cobra Starship came out to sing on "What a Catch, Donnie." One of the guys (I don't remember who) came out to scream with Pete at the end of "I Slept with Someone in Fall Out Boy...", and Alex from All Time Low came out to sing at the end of "Grand Theft Autumn."
Having kept an eye on the set lists for the earlier shows of the tour, I expected most of the songs I heard. However, there were a couple surprises.
"Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes" is my favorite song on Take This to Your Grave. It is in fact the song that really hit me in the gut and told me that FOB was something special and a band to which I could truly relate. I had not seen it on the set lists for the first several shows of this tour (I hadn't looked at any for the past week or so, when they started playing it), so I didn't at all expect to hear it. When Patrick started singing it, I put both hands on my head as if to hold myself down and prevent myself from shooting to the moon. I then smacked Jason on the shoulder (fairly hard, apparently) and squealed, "I can't believe they're playing this!" I rocked out harder to that song than any other on the set list.
"Tiffany Blews" also was a pleasant surprise, being my favorite song on Folie a Deux (for this week anyway). Although I've outgrown my silly girl crush on Patrick...well, let's just say I may have needed to change my panties after watching/hearing him sing this one live.
Our seats provided an excellent view of all the festivities. My prior seats at FOB shows have been so far away that the guys looked like little dolls, but we were so close this time that I could see facial expressions, sweat beading, spit flying... It was worth every penny a million times over.
From Hey Monday's entrance to Fall Out Boy's exit, the entire show lasted 4 1/2 hours. By the time it ended, my voice was absolutely gone, my hair a sweaty mess, my entire body sore from dancing. Jason probably wanted to staple my mouth shut as much as I babbled about how amazing it was (though I couldn't quite form complete sentences). The euphoria lasted well into the next day. I even wondered a little if it was all a dream, but I have my autographed posters and the pics on Jason's DSi as proof (because I couldn't have my camera in the meet & greet, I left it in the hotel room).
Setlist:
Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes
Thriller
A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me
Sugar, We're Going Down
[Costume change]
This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race
I Don't Care
Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet
I Slept with Someone in Fall Out Boy, and All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me
Grand Theft Autumn
What a Catch, Donnie
[Happy Birthday to Justin]
(Coffee's for Closers)
She's My Winona
Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes
Beat It (Michael Jackson cover)
America's Suitehearts
Encore:
Thnks fr th Mmrs
Tiffany Blews
Dance, Dance
Saturday
So as to avoid a super-lengthy review, I shan't go into much detail on each band. The audience was not terribly into Hey Monday, although they gave an energetic and fun 20-minute performance consisting entirely of songs I'd heard on their MySpace. The other bands attracted a much more rousing crowd reaction (except when Pete came out to sing/scream on one of Hey Monday's songs). The folks in the stands remained firmly planted in their seats for Hey Monday, but many of them rose and danced for the other acts.
Metro Station, All Time Low and Cobra Starship each performed 30-35 minutes. The synth-poppy Metro Station was most memorable for frontman Trace's wild guitar slinging and jumps from atop the pink drum kit. All Time Low entertained the crowd not only with their pop-punk tunes but also with witty banter, all delivered in front of equipment boxes on which the words "Giant Douche" were emblazoned. Jack (ATL's guitarist) also made his way to the back of the crowd, where concert-goers snapped pictures of themselves with him while he played.
As each successive opening act performed, their respective crews peeled off another layer of equipment from the stage. By the time Cobra Starship came on, there was enough room for columns of flashing light - the first real "effects" we enjoyed over the course of the show.
While Fall Out Boy's crew arranged the stage for our long-anticipated headliner, a couple kids in the next section entertained the nearby crowd with some raunchy booty dancing in the aisle. The way the audience went wild, you would have thought the band had come out.
Screens in several sections framed the drum riser on the right, left, and bottom, and images were projected on them during several songs on FOB's set list. After the lights dimmed, the screens displayed riot footage interspersed with images of the boys running from backstage, wearing suits. A line of red police car lights spun on stage as sirens blared.
When the boys finally came out wearing those suits (Patrick also sported a goofy blond wig and Pete, a cosmetic "black eye"), they were accompanied by four big guys in SWAT gear, two of whom held drums which they beat to help Andy out with the percussive intro of "Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes."
Pete explained after the opening tune that their show was intended to provide a commentary on the power and wealth of corporate America. Political rants dominated his banter through most of the show, but particularly between songs for the first quarter of the set while the guys remained in their suits. (Actually, Andy shed his blazer pretty quickly. It was weird to see him wearing clothes at all; he typically drums only in shorts.) The dominant message, aside from corporate greed, was about the misdirection of American attention on frivolity such as celebrity news rather than things that really matter (such as conditions in Sri Lanka and the Congo).
Pete actually was uncharacteristically mellow and serious throughout the show, although he did lighten up a bit after the costume change, which came after the fourth song of the set. During the costume change, the screens alternately displayed a half-naked Pete changing and having make-up applied and the other three band members already in their new duds, snacking and checking their watches.
The boys re-emerged in dark pants/shirts and the cool bomber jackets they debuted when they performed on Leno (Andy and Joe both shed theirs after the fifth song). Patrick had on his signature hat and, surprisingly, his glasses. Although Pete didn't do a whole lot of his typical acrobatics, Joe's hair flipping and crazy spins provided plenty of frenetic activity. Joe visited our side of the stage several times, and Patrick (who remains in the center most of the time) even came over for a couple (very short) visits.
Between-song banter after the costume change included a birthday tribute to FOB videographer Justin. Patrick led a "Happy Birthday" singalong, and a cake was hurled in the general vicinity of Justin's face (though most of it ended up on the stage). As crew attempted to clean it up with towels, Pete suggested that a Shamwow would accomplish the task much easier.
Toward the end of the set, Pete had us do "the wave." Another bit of memorable banter occurred when Pete introduced "She's My Winona" with a "Fuck you" at Johnny Depp (who dated Winona Ryder long ago).
Members of the opening bands re-appeared on stage for several of the songs on FOB's set. Hey Monday's Cassadee came out to sing the final chorus of "Sugar, We're Going Down," and Mike took Pete's bass for him at the end of Saturday so Pete could get into the crowd and scream the lyrics. Gabe from Cobra Starship came out to sing on "What a Catch, Donnie." One of the guys (I don't remember who) came out to scream with Pete at the end of "I Slept with Someone in Fall Out Boy...", and Alex from All Time Low came out to sing at the end of "Grand Theft Autumn."
Having kept an eye on the set lists for the earlier shows of the tour, I expected most of the songs I heard. However, there were a couple surprises.
"Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes" is my favorite song on Take This to Your Grave. It is in fact the song that really hit me in the gut and told me that FOB was something special and a band to which I could truly relate. I had not seen it on the set lists for the first several shows of this tour (I hadn't looked at any for the past week or so, when they started playing it), so I didn't at all expect to hear it. When Patrick started singing it, I put both hands on my head as if to hold myself down and prevent myself from shooting to the moon. I then smacked Jason on the shoulder (fairly hard, apparently) and squealed, "I can't believe they're playing this!" I rocked out harder to that song than any other on the set list.
"Tiffany Blews" also was a pleasant surprise, being my favorite song on Folie a Deux (for this week anyway). Although I've outgrown my silly girl crush on Patrick...well, let's just say I may have needed to change my panties after watching/hearing him sing this one live.
Our seats provided an excellent view of all the festivities. My prior seats at FOB shows have been so far away that the guys looked like little dolls, but we were so close this time that I could see facial expressions, sweat beading, spit flying... It was worth every penny a million times over.
From Hey Monday's entrance to Fall Out Boy's exit, the entire show lasted 4 1/2 hours. By the time it ended, my voice was absolutely gone, my hair a sweaty mess, my entire body sore from dancing. Jason probably wanted to staple my mouth shut as much as I babbled about how amazing it was (though I couldn't quite form complete sentences). The euphoria lasted well into the next day. I even wondered a little if it was all a dream, but I have my autographed posters and the pics on Jason's DSi as proof (because I couldn't have my camera in the meet & greet, I left it in the hotel room).
Setlist:
Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes
Thriller
A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me
Sugar, We're Going Down
[Costume change]
This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race
I Don't Care
Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet
I Slept with Someone in Fall Out Boy, and All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me
Grand Theft Autumn
What a Catch, Donnie
[Happy Birthday to Justin]
(Coffee's for Closers)
She's My Winona
Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes
Beat It (Michael Jackson cover)
America's Suitehearts
Encore:
Thnks fr th Mmrs
Tiffany Blews
Dance, Dance
Saturday
Monday, April 20, 2009
Meet market (Fall Out Boy review, part 1)
Four years ago, a friend with whom I worked at Hoole special collections library played a song for me by a little pop-punk band called Fall Out Boy, and I was hooked. I've followed them religiously since then, and though they've certainly found their way onto my concert schedule before, I'd never met them. Needless to say, when the opportunity presented itself to attend a meet & greet prior to their concert in New Orleans Sunday, I jumped at the chance.
Jason and I arrived at UNO's Lakefront Arena just before 3:30, an hour before the email providing meet & greet details said we needed to be there. The clueless arena staff caused chaos and frustration, but eventually everyone figured out that we needed to wait in one line to get our wristbands, then form another for the meet & greet. I left Jason waiting in the meet & greet spot while I went off to get our wristbands. The line moved very slowly, thanks, again, to the clueless arena staff.
Jason overheard a girl talking to her friends and learned that although her friends had passes to meet two of the opening acts (Metro Station and All Time Low), the girl had no meet & greet privileges. I had two extra, so Jason offered one to her. Our new friend turned out to be an 18-year-old high school student from Metarie. She was quite impressed with our level of dedication to the band (driving 4+ hours to see them). She also guessed that we were 25, which endeared her to me.
After waiting a total of an hour and 45 minutes from the time we arrived until the band came out, the entire meet & greet was highly structured and extremely rushed. The boys sat at a table while we came by with items to have signed. We were to slide our items to each band member without lingering and then get back in line. Once everyone had their memorabilia autographed, we were divided into groups of 6-8 fans for group pictures with the band, which will be posted on a Web site later (probably in a couple weeks). We were allowed to take no photos of our own.
Despite the rigid rules, Jason and I had some interaction with three of the guys. As we approached the table, Patrick said, "Hey, what's up!" He complimented Jason's Marvel comics shirt and said it was chaotic.
Next up was Andy. I chat with him quite a bit on Twitter, but he has 8,500 followers and answers as many of them as he can when they talk to him. So, I didn't figure he'd actually recognize me, even when I introduced myself. To my great delight, he smiled and said, "I know you!" We had a little chat about baseball, and he too complimented Jason's t-shirt before we moved on to Joe. Joe and I basically just exchanged hellos, but he and Jason had a short chat (something about Joe drinking coffee to stay awake and of course liking Jason's shirt). Pete didn't even look at us; just signed our items as we passed by.
I'd behaved rather well up to that point. I had a mere moment of visible excitement when we got close enough to the table that I could have reached out and touched Patrick, but otherwise, I hadn't gone all crazy fan girl. The second we walked away from the table, though, I started shaking.
We were through the line again in mere moments, and I managed to calm myself by the time we got back to the guys. Our group of three was combined with the group of four behind us in line for the photo. I rushed right to Andy's side, and Jason stood between Joe and me. The photographer said, "Ladies, squeeze in," and Jason said, "What about me?" Joe said something, which Jason couldn't entirely decipher, but he thinks he said, "He's cool." (These things happen so fast!)
Just like that, it was over, and we were rushed out into the house. If I hadn't had the autographed posters in my hand, I wouldn't have believed it actually happened.
We made our way through the throngs of squealing kids heading out to the floor and found our seats in the second row of the stands rimming the floor, just one section over from the stage. A mother and daughter sat behind us, and the daughter was distraught that she was not on the floor with her friends. Apparently, the friends hadn't wanted to pay for the meet & greet (that was an option, at $150 per person), so they just bought floor tickets. When the girl's mom bought her the meet & greet package, she didn't realize the tickets were not general admission. So, we came to the rescue again. It just so happened we had a pair of floor tickets we weren't using, so we let her have them. She was eternally grateful.
The stage seemed massive but cluttered with equipment for the five bands we were about to see. A banner for Hey Monday hung in back.
We had to wait 45 minutes before the first opener. While Jason played on his DSi, I amused myself people-watching and tweeting from my phone. What happened after the lights dimmed? Stay tuned. Part II is forthcoming.
Jason and I arrived at UNO's Lakefront Arena just before 3:30, an hour before the email providing meet & greet details said we needed to be there. The clueless arena staff caused chaos and frustration, but eventually everyone figured out that we needed to wait in one line to get our wristbands, then form another for the meet & greet. I left Jason waiting in the meet & greet spot while I went off to get our wristbands. The line moved very slowly, thanks, again, to the clueless arena staff.
Jason overheard a girl talking to her friends and learned that although her friends had passes to meet two of the opening acts (Metro Station and All Time Low), the girl had no meet & greet privileges. I had two extra, so Jason offered one to her. Our new friend turned out to be an 18-year-old high school student from Metarie. She was quite impressed with our level of dedication to the band (driving 4+ hours to see them). She also guessed that we were 25, which endeared her to me.
After waiting a total of an hour and 45 minutes from the time we arrived until the band came out, the entire meet & greet was highly structured and extremely rushed. The boys sat at a table while we came by with items to have signed. We were to slide our items to each band member without lingering and then get back in line. Once everyone had their memorabilia autographed, we were divided into groups of 6-8 fans for group pictures with the band, which will be posted on a Web site later (probably in a couple weeks). We were allowed to take no photos of our own.
Despite the rigid rules, Jason and I had some interaction with three of the guys. As we approached the table, Patrick said, "Hey, what's up!" He complimented Jason's Marvel comics shirt and said it was chaotic.
Next up was Andy. I chat with him quite a bit on Twitter, but he has 8,500 followers and answers as many of them as he can when they talk to him. So, I didn't figure he'd actually recognize me, even when I introduced myself. To my great delight, he smiled and said, "I know you!" We had a little chat about baseball, and he too complimented Jason's t-shirt before we moved on to Joe. Joe and I basically just exchanged hellos, but he and Jason had a short chat (something about Joe drinking coffee to stay awake and of course liking Jason's shirt). Pete didn't even look at us; just signed our items as we passed by.
I'd behaved rather well up to that point. I had a mere moment of visible excitement when we got close enough to the table that I could have reached out and touched Patrick, but otherwise, I hadn't gone all crazy fan girl. The second we walked away from the table, though, I started shaking.
We were through the line again in mere moments, and I managed to calm myself by the time we got back to the guys. Our group of three was combined with the group of four behind us in line for the photo. I rushed right to Andy's side, and Jason stood between Joe and me. The photographer said, "Ladies, squeeze in," and Jason said, "What about me?" Joe said something, which Jason couldn't entirely decipher, but he thinks he said, "He's cool." (These things happen so fast!)
Just like that, it was over, and we were rushed out into the house. If I hadn't had the autographed posters in my hand, I wouldn't have believed it actually happened.
We made our way through the throngs of squealing kids heading out to the floor and found our seats in the second row of the stands rimming the floor, just one section over from the stage. A mother and daughter sat behind us, and the daughter was distraught that she was not on the floor with her friends. Apparently, the friends hadn't wanted to pay for the meet & greet (that was an option, at $150 per person), so they just bought floor tickets. When the girl's mom bought her the meet & greet package, she didn't realize the tickets were not general admission. So, we came to the rescue again. It just so happened we had a pair of floor tickets we weren't using, so we let her have them. She was eternally grateful.
The stage seemed massive but cluttered with equipment for the five bands we were about to see. A banner for Hey Monday hung in back.
We had to wait 45 minutes before the first opener. While Jason played on his DSi, I amused myself people-watching and tweeting from my phone. What happened after the lights dimmed? Stay tuned. Part II is forthcoming.
Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans?
When traveling from Tuscaloosa, the indications that one is growing closer to New Orleans begin as early as Meridian, Mississippi, when I-20/59 splits. With each successive sign, my heart swells until finally, I crest that one hill on I-10 West and see that beautiful skyline, and the city welcomes me home.
I got that feeling for the first time in 23 months on Friday as we drove in for a long weekend visit. That evening, I got a similar feeling when we went to see Paul Sanchez perform, also for the first time in 23 months.
We typically stood in front of Paul when he was with Cowboy Mouth, and he always recognized us, no matter how long it had been since our last show - like reuniting with an old friend. Friday we went to say hello before his solo acoustic set at Clever Wine Bar, and he said he remembered us. He also gave Jason a shout out during the set, thanking him for his support over the years. After the set, when I relayed a greeting from our friend Healey, he asked about her and her boyfriend Mike (though I'd not mentioned Mike at all).
That kind of memory, regard and appreciation for his fans is one reason that we so enjoy seeing Paul, but certainly not the only one. His music soothes the soul, partially because, as my friend Aura pointed out Friday night, his voice is "smooth like butter."
Friday's venue was quite unique. The wine bar is one of many businesses converted from an old cannery. Despite the exposed ventilation and pipes, the location is quite chic and cozy. When we arrived, all of the bar stools and the tables closest to the small corner stage were taken. We picked a large round table near the rear of the bar, which had its pros and cons. Although the standing crowd that filled the bar by the middle of the set obscured our view of the stage, the cushy chairs around the table provided a relaxing place to enjoy our beverages and the music.
Although scheduled to play only from 8-10 p.m., neither Paul nor the crowd was ready for the set to end. He continued on for another 25 minutes, giving us nearly 2 1/2 hours of wonderful music.
The set consisted of an excellent mix of classic and new, cover and improv. Among the familiar tunes we heard were "Light It on Fire," "Little Blue One," "Slow Down," "Here I Sit in Prison," "Hey Bartender," "Irish Boy," and "The Hate Song." We also heard some newer tracks from the recent albums Exit to Mystery Street and Stew from New Orleans (a collaborative effort with John Boutte). "Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?", "I'm a Believer," "If I Only Had a Brain," and a rousing singalong of "You Are My Sunshine" rounded out the set, along with a ditty made up on the spot about those in the crowd who continued to talk loudly (and who presumably were oblivious to the fact that Paul was making up a rather amusing song about them).
One funny moment of the night unrelated to Paul occurred when a stranger came over to our table for a very odd exchange with Aura. Aura still was at work when Robin, Jason and I went to the cannery building, which has an excellent little pizza place called the Olive Branch Cafe. I had 1/3 of an olive calzone leftover and convinced Aura to eat it (which she did ever so daintily). The strange woman came over and told Aura that she looked like a pizza-eating queen holding court over all these "guys" (Um, hello! Guys?). She then told Aura to try the wine. Apparently the fruity/flowery cocktail in front of her wasn't good enough.
After the set, we listened in as Robin interviewed Paul for Aura's New Orleans theatre/music podcast "Backstage on the Bayou" (http://www.backstageonthebayou.com). For those of you who are Paul fans, the episode should be up within the next week or two.
I got that feeling for the first time in 23 months on Friday as we drove in for a long weekend visit. That evening, I got a similar feeling when we went to see Paul Sanchez perform, also for the first time in 23 months.
We typically stood in front of Paul when he was with Cowboy Mouth, and he always recognized us, no matter how long it had been since our last show - like reuniting with an old friend. Friday we went to say hello before his solo acoustic set at Clever Wine Bar, and he said he remembered us. He also gave Jason a shout out during the set, thanking him for his support over the years. After the set, when I relayed a greeting from our friend Healey, he asked about her and her boyfriend Mike (though I'd not mentioned Mike at all).
That kind of memory, regard and appreciation for his fans is one reason that we so enjoy seeing Paul, but certainly not the only one. His music soothes the soul, partially because, as my friend Aura pointed out Friday night, his voice is "smooth like butter."
Friday's venue was quite unique. The wine bar is one of many businesses converted from an old cannery. Despite the exposed ventilation and pipes, the location is quite chic and cozy. When we arrived, all of the bar stools and the tables closest to the small corner stage were taken. We picked a large round table near the rear of the bar, which had its pros and cons. Although the standing crowd that filled the bar by the middle of the set obscured our view of the stage, the cushy chairs around the table provided a relaxing place to enjoy our beverages and the music.
Although scheduled to play only from 8-10 p.m., neither Paul nor the crowd was ready for the set to end. He continued on for another 25 minutes, giving us nearly 2 1/2 hours of wonderful music.
The set consisted of an excellent mix of classic and new, cover and improv. Among the familiar tunes we heard were "Light It on Fire," "Little Blue One," "Slow Down," "Here I Sit in Prison," "Hey Bartender," "Irish Boy," and "The Hate Song." We also heard some newer tracks from the recent albums Exit to Mystery Street and Stew from New Orleans (a collaborative effort with John Boutte). "Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?", "I'm a Believer," "If I Only Had a Brain," and a rousing singalong of "You Are My Sunshine" rounded out the set, along with a ditty made up on the spot about those in the crowd who continued to talk loudly (and who presumably were oblivious to the fact that Paul was making up a rather amusing song about them).
One funny moment of the night unrelated to Paul occurred when a stranger came over to our table for a very odd exchange with Aura. Aura still was at work when Robin, Jason and I went to the cannery building, which has an excellent little pizza place called the Olive Branch Cafe. I had 1/3 of an olive calzone leftover and convinced Aura to eat it (which she did ever so daintily). The strange woman came over and told Aura that she looked like a pizza-eating queen holding court over all these "guys" (Um, hello! Guys?). She then told Aura to try the wine. Apparently the fruity/flowery cocktail in front of her wasn't good enough.
After the set, we listened in as Robin interviewed Paul for Aura's New Orleans theatre/music podcast "Backstage on the Bayou" (http://www.backstageonthebayou.com). For those of you who are Paul fans, the episode should be up within the next week or two.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Roasted potato salad recipe
I've had the biggest craving for potato salad lately, but being on a diet, I didn't want to do the usual deli salad full of mayo and without much in the way of veggies. I also wanted one that could stand alone as a main dish.
Armed with the criteria of light with some veggies and good vegetarian protein in it, I went on an internet search. I found nothing that exactly fit the bill, but I did find this one and worked from it.
I was really intrigued by the idea of doing a salad with roasted potatoes. Roasted potatoes are my specialty, so my first modification of the original recipe was to roast with all the herbs I typically use (rather than just salt).
I also subbed dijon mustard for regular yellow, used shallots instead of onion, added in some capers, traded hard-boiled eggs for the chicken in the original recipe, and topped mine with some chopped cashews.
The result was exactly what I wanted.
Roasted potato salad (serves 4 as a side dish or 2 hungry folks as an entree)
2 lbs. small red-skin potatoes, quartered
Olive oil
Salt
2 shallots, minced
Four cloves garlic, minced
2 tbsp. minced rosemary
1 tsp. dried sage
1 cup green beans, trimmed and blanched
1/2 cup light mayo
1/2 cup plain nonfat yogurt
1/4 cup nonfat milk
2 tbsp. dijon mustard
3 hard boiled eggs, sliced
1 cup grape tomatoes
2 tbsp. capers
1/4 cup roasted cashews, chopped
Toss potatoes with olive oil and salt to taste and roast for 30 minutes at 425, turning every 10 minutes
Add the herbs, shallots, garlic and green beans to the potatoes (add additional oil and salt if necessary) and roast an additional 20-30 minutes, turning every 10 minutes.
Let the potato mixture cool while you mix the dressing (mayo through mustard). Toss the potato mixture with the dressing, eggs, tomatoes and capers. Chill for at least two hours.
Serve topped with chopped cashews.
Armed with the criteria of light with some veggies and good vegetarian protein in it, I went on an internet search. I found nothing that exactly fit the bill, but I did find this one and worked from it.
I was really intrigued by the idea of doing a salad with roasted potatoes. Roasted potatoes are my specialty, so my first modification of the original recipe was to roast with all the herbs I typically use (rather than just salt).
I also subbed dijon mustard for regular yellow, used shallots instead of onion, added in some capers, traded hard-boiled eggs for the chicken in the original recipe, and topped mine with some chopped cashews.
The result was exactly what I wanted.
Roasted potato salad (serves 4 as a side dish or 2 hungry folks as an entree)
2 lbs. small red-skin potatoes, quartered
Olive oil
Salt
2 shallots, minced
Four cloves garlic, minced
2 tbsp. minced rosemary
1 tsp. dried sage
1 cup green beans, trimmed and blanched
1/2 cup light mayo
1/2 cup plain nonfat yogurt
1/4 cup nonfat milk
2 tbsp. dijon mustard
3 hard boiled eggs, sliced
1 cup grape tomatoes
2 tbsp. capers
1/4 cup roasted cashews, chopped
Toss potatoes with olive oil and salt to taste and roast for 30 minutes at 425, turning every 10 minutes
Add the herbs, shallots, garlic and green beans to the potatoes (add additional oil and salt if necessary) and roast an additional 20-30 minutes, turning every 10 minutes.
Let the potato mixture cool while you mix the dressing (mayo through mustard). Toss the potato mixture with the dressing, eggs, tomatoes and capers. Chill for at least two hours.
Serve topped with chopped cashews.
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