This clip is about as Bahston as it gets…
“How do we have this?”
“We need to negotiate heah…”
“We got connections…”
The banner went missing for 48 hours but is now back with the Red Sox. And apparently there were no negotiations. But in tribute to the city where the banner was “found”, here are the Pernice Brothers with an underappreciated gem of a song called Somerville.
On Monday evening, I made the 100-mile drive north to Columbus to see Superchunk. They haven’t played anywhere near Cincinnati in eons, so a two-hour trip was a small price to pay. Besides, I’m on “staycation” thanks to Hurricane Florence… if I can’t go to North Carolina, at least I can see a great band from Chapel Hill.
It’s a very “Puppet Show & Spinal Tap” sign
The show sold out the day it was announced (can you say “pent up demand”?) but I managed to snag a last-minute ticket via Craigslist. I’m so glad I did, too. They absolutely rocked!
I’ve seen Superchunk before, but it’s been a couple of decades. Things (including hairlines) have changed.
They still have that same fire, that same punk rock energy (bassist Laura Ballance no longer tours due to a hearing issue, but Jason Narducy ably takes over her spot). Lead singer/guitarist Mac McCaughan is 51, but he acts like a teenager on stage, bouncing around like a pinball and singing and playing with reckless abandon.
Superchunk’s latest album What A Time To Be Alive is very punk in its subject matter too, turning their righteous indignation toward the powers that be (especially the powers that reside at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue).
To see the rot in no disguise
Oh what a time to be alive
The scum, the shame, the f***ing lies
Oh what a time to be alive
Oh what a time to be alive
— from the title track
Hate so graceless and so cavalier
We don’t just disappear
Shifting shapes you’re just an auctioneer
But we’re still here
— from “Erasure”
It’s not all bile, though, and there’s always melody in Superchunk tunes.
30 years into their career, they’re still playing small clubs, but honestly, that’s where they need to be – Mac admitted as much from the stage. There are no barriers between the band and the audience, literally and figuratively. And that’s the way we like it.
This past weekend, I got to catch up with three folks whom I first met in my 97X radio days, when I was the morning show co-host and they were student interns. (Actually, we called them “co-producers” of the morning show because we felt that the term “intern” had some negative baggage, even in the pre-Lewinsky era, and we also wanted them to know that they were integral to the show.)
It’s been a quarter-century since those salad days, and it had been that long since I’d seen one of them, and 15+ years since I’d seen another. They’re not kids anymore, but they’re a decade younger than I am, so they’ll always be kids to me.
Jessica, Steve and Joe
Jessica (far left… in the picture… I don’t know her political stance) is a suburban Chicago native (a lot of Miami University students are) and returned home after graduation. Ditto for Steve (a.k.a. “Roemie da Homie” – center square in the photo). Joe (at right) was an army brat, so he grew up all over, including a stint in the Chicago ‘burbs in junior high. He stuck around Cincinnati after graduation.
Joe and I drove up to Chicago to see Buffalo Tom in concert. (Meaning I’ve now seen 28.6% of the shows on their North American tour… 2 of 7). On a whim, I emailed Jessica prior to our trip and asked if we could meet up. As fate would have it, she too is a Buffalo Tom fanatic (the few, the proud…) and was already planning to attend to the concert. Next thing you know, she was graciously offering to host Joe and me in her home. Meaning she is still just as kind-hearted as she was in college (and perhaps just a bit naïve, given the proximity of the guest beds to the basement beer fridge… hic!). We managed to meet up with Steve both nights too, and shared many a laugh over the radio station foibles (it was like an indie rock WKRP) and the sweatshop-like conditions of their internships (they got “paid” with promo CDs, band t-shirts and free concert tickets).
They’re different now – they’ve morphed from college kids into adults with real jobs, and real kids… and all the chores that come with that – the daily commute, the carpool line, homework reminders and sports practices. Yet they’re still the same great people that they were back then – smart, witty, kind, enthusiastic about life.
It’s great when you can go a couple of decades without seeing someone and pick up right where you left off. The only difference is, as you get older, you cherish those moments more.
Seems like I was just a kid not so long ago
So many arrivals
So many hellos
Now my time behind is greater than my time ahead. Save up the minutes like flowers before they’re all dead and gone….
My ghostwriter is a union employee.
Happy Labor Day! And for my European friends, Happy Labour Day!
My name’s dubbatrubba, and I’m a Capricorn, just like all the cool kids (Baby Jesus, Donna Summer, John Denver). Check out this recent horoscope:
Oh yeah, that’s me, baby! “Spinning small-talk fodder into golden threads that draw people together.” They know me so well! Actually, they don’t know me at all. I’m better at turning small-talk fodder into long-winded, pointless, egocentric stories.
But I’ll take the horoscope at face value it I can use it to my advantage. If you’d like to rent me (a modern day Rumpelstiltskin… or “Rump” for short) for your next gathering to liven things up a bit, just contact my agent, Artie Fufkin. (Warning, clip NSFW.)
Don’t waste your time with all those other Zodiac zeroes; go for the Zodiac hero. After all, it’s written in the stars: with ME on the guest list, your party is sure to be swingin’…
Reading truly is fundamental. Don’t just take my word for it – take it from two members of the “Hill Street Blues” cast:
Here are three articles I’ve stumbled across recently that are worth reading.
“I feel really close to the world. Close to the people in the room. Unobstructed. I feel like everything’s going to be OK in a way I don’t really understand. I feel part of something that’s timeless and ancient. I feel a lot of love. That’s probably what I’m describing — love. I feel love.”
2. Staying in the music vein, but on a sadder note, this article on Uproxx uses the Conan show decision to axe musical acts from their new half-hour format as the lead-in to a larger lamentation about the lack of exposure for up-and-coming artists. Here are a couple of excerpts:
Regularly putting on musical acts that are virtually unknown to a mainstream audience, making a late night show an avenue for actual discovery — not to mention spontaneity, surprise, and plain old genuine excitement — who is doing that now?….
Things are far too staid in late night, musically and otherwise — which is the opposite of how it should be, and yet reflective of how culture generally feels right now. We live in a time where there are more media outlets serving a wider range of people than ever in the history of human civilization. And yet, those outlets feel more homogenized, sanitized, centralized, and corporatized than ever. Whether the driver is ratings, web traffic, or algorithms, the pull of culture now is always toward the familiar, fatuous middle of franchise reboots, comic book adaptations, and pop music “perfection.” This inevitably influences how we see that world — the middle assumes outsized importance, and the margins are further, well, marginalized.
3. And it isn’t just late night musical experimentation that’s dying… it’s also your refrigerator. This great Washington Post article about the tradeoffs of technology is equal parts entertaining and enlightening.
That’s the irony of modern life in so many ways, multiplying all our choices while taking away the most fundamental one: the ability to choose something simpler and more likely to endure.
Happy reading!
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