![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
captainsblogWhen we left our traveling concertgoer, who does not have this on his back window but just saw someone who does-
- he was just finishing his fish fry down the road from the historic Chautauqua Institution. It was a short drive and then a fairly long wait to find a spot on the grassy field probably a mile from the ampitheater. Amazingly, I'd chosen a row a mere four cars from a shelter for a shuttle stop! And there was a shuttle! Which the person in line ahead of me filled, but with the promise of another soon to follow....
Fortunately, that promise was kept. At least I was dry for the moment, and the temperature drop into the mid-50s wasn't too bad surrounded by fellow Maniac fans who were mostly better dressed for the wait. My favorite memory of the ride over with them was the discussion among the several hippies on the bus of where the best place was around there to buy the ganja. (Apparently a place called Hollyweed on the rez comes highly recommended;) I could only imagine the abstemious Methodist forefathers of this place, who birthed the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union on its grounds in 1874, spinning in their graves as the evil weed was promoted amongst their descendants.
Unlike my last visit, which was extended and leisurely before getting into a long line for entry, this one was all business to get through the drizzle and into the warmer and safely covered ampitheater as quickly as possible. Also unlike last time, there was no line to get in once the venue was in my sights. It was 45 minutes to "curtain" and there wasn't much of a crowd yet:
That was from my eventual seat, about three rows from the reserved section in front and a lot closer than I was able to get for Natalie the previous summer. One reason for that, mentioned in the previous entry, is that the Maniacs were not part of the resident Orchestra's subscription series, so that horde of classical buffs would not be joining us. I was somewhat surprised to see one fellow Buffalonian who was a few aisles over from me, dressed in a Sportsmen's Tavern windbreaker. That Buffalo club, one of my favorites and the Maniacs' co-founder and backing guitarist John Lombardo's regular establishment on the band's nights off, had booked its own gig for the same night, an amazing last minute one. The Tedeschi Trucks Band, a country-rock lineup with roots in the Allmans, had shows in the area the nights before and after this evening, so what better way to spend their night off than to book a last-minute jam with their opener and many of their members on the best damn small stage for 100 miles of Canandaigua or Lewiston? So they did, and I'd have been there if I hadn't been here. It was so last-minute, the guy in the Sportsmens jacket had no idea it was even going on. (Neither did John, who I got to talk to after the show.)
No opening act; we're all getting too old for that. Out they came, with a three-piece horn section behind Jerry's left on drums, and two backup singers and players to his right; you can't see Maggie and Joe in this photo, but you will see (and hear) them later, one of the benefits of splitting this entry up since I can only embed one Youtube per post:
By this time, my one friend with a seat like mine in the general admission section had arrived, with her friend from Jamestown High School (class of '77); I usually manage to sneak a photo of the setlist at the base of the stage, but the ushers this night were particularly lunch-ladyish in keeping us all in Proper Order and I never got that close until they'd been removed. So I made my own as we went along.
Most of the tracks were from the Big Three of Elektra albums released at the height of the group's fame and fortune: Blind Man's Zoo, In My Tribe and Our Time in Eden. "Rainy Day" and "More than This" were regular concert features of theirs from their first Nataless album Love Among the Ruins, but this show also went deep into that collection for a song I'd never heard them do live before called "Big Star." Beginning with the line "I saw a big star running from me," and including "the boys are out tonight" in the chorus, I've always taken the song as a farewell FU to Natalie's departure, but read the lyrics and decide for yourself.
The "Train" on that setlist is not their cover of "Peace Train" but "Can't Ignore The Train," the first single from The Wishing Cbair, their first album after signing with Elektra and one oft-played at their shows. The parentheticals on the list about Dennis and Rob were from Mary's introductions to those two songs: she accidentally attributed "Cherry Tree" to their keyboardist when it was actually written by Rob Buck, their late lead guitarist; she then corrected herself with a self-pointed F-bomb as they went into "Trouble Me," which Dennis did write.
By about the middle of the set, the lunch ladies got busy again. A bunch of enthusiastic band fans drifted down to the area in front of the stage that, in earlier days in a much different venue, might have been a mosh pit, and started dancing. One was in a MANIACS baseball jersey with that distinctive uni number on the back:
I would later learn that's Emily Drew, the keyboardist's daughter,producer of the amazing audio documentary I linked to last time, and an integral part of the band's social media presence. Not even she could get past the strum und drang of the buzz-killing lunch lady ushers, who shoved them from their dancing spaces because they were blocking the VIP seat views. Or something. Seeing them shoved to the back, Steve stopped his playing to give the crowd the band's OFFICIAL PERMISSION TO DANCE-
- which the uptight docents responded to by velvet-roping off the aisles to the front.
I guess this doesn't happen at the Schubert concerts:P
When the band reached Jerry's signature composition "My Sister Rose," I made a quick shot to the back myself, before lines at the bathroom and merch table got too long. I came away from the latter with the signature t-shirt for the night's performance that I have yet to wear, and a copy of one of their post-Elektra self-produced CDs called Music from the Motion Picture, one of perhaps only two we don't have from 40-plus years of records. As I walked back to my seat, "Hey Jack Kerouac" was just starting, which is traditionally their fake-exit song because it ends with "Say-ay-ay-ay-ay goodbye!" Everybody knew they'd be back for "These Are Days," but I don't think anyone outside the group knew what the first encore would be.
Through the five decades consisting in full or in part of Maniac "mischief," five women have taken the mic to lead the band through their songs: Terri, Natalie, Mary, Oskar and Leigh. No male voice ever graced a single track of any of their records since that first college class project album Human Conflict Number Five until that mid-2010s self-produced album that had three of its songs with Rob's original replacement guitarist on lead. But this night? Steve stepped away from his bass and backup guitarist Joe added their voices to this celebratory cover of one of the most joyous anthems of 60s rock and roll:
I may have even seen the tight-assed lunch-lady ushers singing along;)
----
"Joy" would become the theme of my political party in the nights following this show last week. More about that, and the rest of everyday life here, after I get out of work today.
- he was just finishing his fish fry down the road from the historic Chautauqua Institution. It was a short drive and then a fairly long wait to find a spot on the grassy field probably a mile from the ampitheater. Amazingly, I'd chosen a row a mere four cars from a shelter for a shuttle stop! And there was a shuttle! Which the person in line ahead of me filled, but with the promise of another soon to follow....
Fortunately, that promise was kept. At least I was dry for the moment, and the temperature drop into the mid-50s wasn't too bad surrounded by fellow Maniac fans who were mostly better dressed for the wait. My favorite memory of the ride over with them was the discussion among the several hippies on the bus of where the best place was around there to buy the ganja. (Apparently a place called Hollyweed on the rez comes highly recommended;) I could only imagine the abstemious Methodist forefathers of this place, who birthed the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union on its grounds in 1874, spinning in their graves as the evil weed was promoted amongst their descendants.
Unlike my last visit, which was extended and leisurely before getting into a long line for entry, this one was all business to get through the drizzle and into the warmer and safely covered ampitheater as quickly as possible. Also unlike last time, there was no line to get in once the venue was in my sights. It was 45 minutes to "curtain" and there wasn't much of a crowd yet:
That was from my eventual seat, about three rows from the reserved section in front and a lot closer than I was able to get for Natalie the previous summer. One reason for that, mentioned in the previous entry, is that the Maniacs were not part of the resident Orchestra's subscription series, so that horde of classical buffs would not be joining us. I was somewhat surprised to see one fellow Buffalonian who was a few aisles over from me, dressed in a Sportsmen's Tavern windbreaker. That Buffalo club, one of my favorites and the Maniacs' co-founder and backing guitarist John Lombardo's regular establishment on the band's nights off, had booked its own gig for the same night, an amazing last minute one. The Tedeschi Trucks Band, a country-rock lineup with roots in the Allmans, had shows in the area the nights before and after this evening, so what better way to spend their night off than to book a last-minute jam with their opener and many of their members on the best damn small stage for 100 miles of Canandaigua or Lewiston? So they did, and I'd have been there if I hadn't been here. It was so last-minute, the guy in the Sportsmens jacket had no idea it was even going on. (Neither did John, who I got to talk to after the show.)
No opening act; we're all getting too old for that. Out they came, with a three-piece horn section behind Jerry's left on drums, and two backup singers and players to his right; you can't see Maggie and Joe in this photo, but you will see (and hear) them later, one of the benefits of splitting this entry up since I can only embed one Youtube per post:
By this time, my one friend with a seat like mine in the general admission section had arrived, with her friend from Jamestown High School (class of '77); I usually manage to sneak a photo of the setlist at the base of the stage, but the ushers this night were particularly lunch-ladyish in keeping us all in Proper Order and I never got that close until they'd been removed. So I made my own as we went along.
Most of the tracks were from the Big Three of Elektra albums released at the height of the group's fame and fortune: Blind Man's Zoo, In My Tribe and Our Time in Eden. "Rainy Day" and "More than This" were regular concert features of theirs from their first Nataless album Love Among the Ruins, but this show also went deep into that collection for a song I'd never heard them do live before called "Big Star." Beginning with the line "I saw a big star running from me," and including "the boys are out tonight" in the chorus, I've always taken the song as a farewell FU to Natalie's departure, but read the lyrics and decide for yourself.
The "Train" on that setlist is not their cover of "Peace Train" but "Can't Ignore The Train," the first single from The Wishing Cbair, their first album after signing with Elektra and one oft-played at their shows. The parentheticals on the list about Dennis and Rob were from Mary's introductions to those two songs: she accidentally attributed "Cherry Tree" to their keyboardist when it was actually written by Rob Buck, their late lead guitarist; she then corrected herself with a self-pointed F-bomb as they went into "Trouble Me," which Dennis did write.
By about the middle of the set, the lunch ladies got busy again. A bunch of enthusiastic band fans drifted down to the area in front of the stage that, in earlier days in a much different venue, might have been a mosh pit, and started dancing. One was in a MANIACS baseball jersey with that distinctive uni number on the back:
I would later learn that's Emily Drew, the keyboardist's daughter,producer of the amazing audio documentary I linked to last time, and an integral part of the band's social media presence. Not even she could get past the strum und drang of the buzz-killing lunch lady ushers, who shoved them from their dancing spaces because they were blocking the VIP seat views. Or something. Seeing them shoved to the back, Steve stopped his playing to give the crowd the band's OFFICIAL PERMISSION TO DANCE-
- which the uptight docents responded to by velvet-roping off the aisles to the front.
I guess this doesn't happen at the Schubert concerts:P
When the band reached Jerry's signature composition "My Sister Rose," I made a quick shot to the back myself, before lines at the bathroom and merch table got too long. I came away from the latter with the signature t-shirt for the night's performance that I have yet to wear, and a copy of one of their post-Elektra self-produced CDs called Music from the Motion Picture, one of perhaps only two we don't have from 40-plus years of records. As I walked back to my seat, "Hey Jack Kerouac" was just starting, which is traditionally their fake-exit song because it ends with "Say-ay-ay-ay-ay goodbye!" Everybody knew they'd be back for "These Are Days," but I don't think anyone outside the group knew what the first encore would be.
Through the five decades consisting in full or in part of Maniac "mischief," five women have taken the mic to lead the band through their songs: Terri, Natalie, Mary, Oskar and Leigh. No male voice ever graced a single track of any of their records since that first college class project album Human Conflict Number Five until that mid-2010s self-produced album that had three of its songs with Rob's original replacement guitarist on lead. But this night? Steve stepped away from his bass and backup guitarist Joe added their voices to this celebratory cover of one of the most joyous anthems of 60s rock and roll:
I may have even seen the tight-assed lunch-lady ushers singing along;)
----
"Joy" would become the theme of my political party in the nights following this show last week. More about that, and the rest of everyday life here, after I get out of work today.
no subject
Date: 2024-08-26 02:44 pm (UTC)Is it a drag when your working interferes with concert-going?