|
|
|
Apples in Stereo The
Holmes Brothers |
Dave Alvin
We find our friend Brett and he tells us that, no shit, some lady with a cane walked past him just before we got there. Dave and Michelle from Dave’s Music Mine are also in attendance and Dave was probably the most drunk I’d seen him in awhile. He took it upon himself to grace the foot of the stage for the last half of the show, nodding his approval throughout. As soon as Wifey and I settled down and started appreciating the music it was immediately apparent that Alvin was on fire tonight. He lead the band through a rollicking epic version of “Abeline” that tells a story so few songwriters today can pull off. Some guy up front yelled out for “Out in California” and Alvin says, “Stick around, we’re not going anywhere.” Though I don’t think he ever got to playing it. I’ve always liked “Dry River” but Dave and the band just completely blew the doors off this fucker and had everyone that wasn’t sitting on their kiester doing a damn rain dance between the seats. He kept up the intensity for "Out Of Control" with some of the slower material from West of the West like “Blind Love” and “Redneck Friend” filling the cracks nicely. I can’t count how many times I leaned over to Wifey, exclaiming “Man, this is just awesome” or “Is it me or is this a really great show?” Sometimes it’s hard to explain. We knew most but not all of the songs. And there were no great drunken sing-along moments that sometimes defines a good time in my book. All you had to do was observe what was taking place onstage to see a man possessed and playing some of the best damn rock-and-roll of his generation. Hell, many generations, considering the crowd that was enjoying it. Even Brett was up there snapping pictures trying to capture the moment. The set veered off to the traditional side with “Marie, Marie” at the end but avoided the excessive pandering that usually happens at a Grushecky show by not dragging these songs out forever. After the last song, Alvin stormed off the stage and disappeared in the rear of the theater. At first I thought something went wrong but Brett said that’s just the way he operates, kind of a no-nonsense way of letting people know he’s left the building rather that let the hand-clapping drag on for too long. So now I’m thinking of adopting this as a way to end conversations that, as far as I’m concerned, are over. So if mid-conversation you wonder why I suddenly leave the room never to return, I’m not being rude but just letting you know that I’m done talking. |
