Happy May Day. Amy’s mix CD is guiding us home through the rain, to a tiny house in the woods of Connecticut on family land. She is our lady of Ineffable Wisdom when it comes to the songs of other writers.
The last two nights have been damp, and cold, and exhausting and delicious. Last night’s show at the Centre Coffee Bar, reeling from the wonder of doing a two and a half hour show twice in as many days.
Wednesday night we played the Burren, in Somerville – and the two and a half hours of ilyAIMY almost killed us. We’re out of practice and out of breath and the two months at home doing short sets has left us unprepared for the world we’ve created for ourselves.
Hugh McGowan played with us for most of the gig, and his percussion was elegant, and passionate, and so welcome. I always worry that we’ll go away and people who Loved us and people we’ve Loved will fade from memory and that they will forget us. I was afraid that had happened with Hugh, and our meeting was distant, and cautious. But he remembered us as we played, and he grinned as Heather’s harmonies locked, and as the rhythms shifted. I wish we could pocket him and bring him home to Rowan, and let ilyAIMY have some new blood. I Love You and I Miss You was particularly applicable.
Friday night we came home again – to the Centre Coffee Bar in Connecticut, and played from 7.30pm to 11 with a short break in-between two sets. I didn’t feel like I did that well, but we were Loved, and I guess that’s a mark of how far we’ve come. We made a couple of really good friends that night – one of which even came out the next night….
Tonight was a Godsend. It’s in my blood – the music, the heat and the passion. I don’t know where it came from. But I want loud, clear signals. Unavoidable and unignorable.
I want to threaten the hearing of the masses.
Heather was worried – we got to Jitters before it opened (who knew that a coffeehouse would have a “doors opening” time?!) and sat in the car in the rain listening to music and fogging up the windows and waiting… We got inside and worried more. Though very cool the space was small – and Heather
well – you really can’t blame her. Track down Jitters’ website. You’ll see some HUGE ASS speakers in the pictures. That does indeed imply a pretty big space.
I’m glad it was exactly what it was – an eclectic coffeeshop owned by a woman who celebrates leaving her husband ever December 10th. She owns the connected consignment shop and books whatever it damn well pleases her to book. A small space packed with consignment-shop left-overs, knick-knacks, buddhas and umbrellas and ice skates and skis. And two massive speakers.
I Love playing coffeehouses. I Love the intimacy. And I Love being LOUD. This really was a pretty perfect combination for me. Could’ve used a slightly larger space to wiggle around in, and a larger audience to pack the tiny room – but you can’t have it all, and I was pretty happy with what I got.
And the energy was perfect. I place a lot of that at the feet of the energy there, the volume, the fact that we’d been playing the last couple days and I was back on top of my chops, and my voice was back (and I could hear it – Mike did a great job with sound, but without monitors, I was kind of struggling) – and at the feet of the performers we were guesting with – Sour Grapes.
Larry and Ellen have an eclectic, high-energy sound that crosses the sound and vocal agility of Rusted Root with the good-natured JOY of… of what? I don’t really know – it’s not jam band altered-state amiability, and it’s not pre-planned and coldly executed folk fun… it was something that reminded me of my old partner, Audrey, and something that reminded me of sledding… joyriding down a hill and laughing with the sheer frenetic joy of it.
Sour Grapes really was anything BUT their name. Ellen is one Hell of a percussionist, one Hell of a vocalist. Larry is a great harmonica player, and they both have some rapid-fire vocal abilities and an almost Brazilian rhythmic sensibility. And add to that their REAL hook – tap dancing. I’m going to leave it there, cause I can’t do it all justice – I’m hoping we can drag them down to Maryland at some point. Y’all would enjoy them muchly.
