There Sure Are A Lot Of Bill Frisells Here Tonight

The calm before Super Bowl pageantry draws me to a quick post. While certainly not the motive for this piece, I can't jump into this word-wound wilderness without at least making note of an utterly pristine Wilco show that took place this past Friday at the beautiful (seriously, beautiful) Kings Theatre in Brooklyn, New York. The occasion marked my first time seeing the group since they opened for Neil Young with a searing "Sky Blue Sky" heavy set at the Garden many years ago. I think I've long since eclipsed the usefulness of the phrase, "best show I've ever seen," because frankly I've seen so many shows of so many genres, contexts, and even the people I've seen them with. It has become such an arbitrary statement, I can't in good conscience toss it out. With that said, they played an incredible, diverse set, capped with an acoustic encore. Always finding new ways to astound live and I defy you to find a band with a cleaner, yet oh-so-not-cookie-cutter, sound. "Via Chicago" and "Art of Almost" were highlights on top of highlights. I'll have another chance to see them this summer at Mountain Jam. Let me know if you want on the day-glo bus.

The show marked my first time seeing Steve of equal parts York and MP lore in many moons, but the second time in as many weeks that I saw Kevin Montgomery, as he also accompanied me in seeing Hive in Queens last weekend. Speaking of astounding sounds, the limits of avant-groove a pushed nicely by Hive. Incidentally, they're looking to change up their band name in preparation for their new album release. I'm pushing for the name "Indigenous 3." I'm on their mailing list. I'm optimistic. 

Anyway, just for a beat of context, jazz-guitarist Bill Frisell was supposed to open for Wilco, but was held up by weather in Quebec. Not one to let delayed travelers wait in peace, Steve, Kev, and I made it our own running gag, hence the title. 

I would say about a month ago, a friend brought to my attention via a mass shared social media post that there are libraries around the world in which you could "rent" people as human books and listen to their stories. I'm a sucker for oral history and my buddy noted that these libraries were riffing off an idea I've long held dear. 

While it never occurred to me to incorporate the formality of a library card, I've always been a real advocate for "storytelling nights" where people come together in a place and vibe similar to an open mic, but just kind of take all of the fanfare out of it and don't so much perform as they do just talk. 

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not critiquing the open mic scene. I've had great times and met incredible people at various open mics throughout my life. See my previous post actually. (I chuckled at that realization.), but open mics as a whole tend to be a group of people coming together and celebrating a talent that makes them unique. That's super special, super important, and my life wouldn't be the same without that outlet. With that said, whereas open mics focus on what makes people different, I think it would be so cool and invaluable to have a night and space that focuses on what makes people the same, or dare I say ordinary. There could be different topics every week, some would make you cry, others make you laugh, but always make you think. I believe a lot of people can stand to hear these stories. I think there are even more people that can benefit from telling their stories. 

A chance to bond in our very humanity. Hopefully this is a movement that picks up steam soon. 

Song of the Day: "Strung Out Again" Elliott Smith

Jazz Song of the Day: "Evidence" Thelonious Monk