Delta Rae keeps getting better and better

Saturday night, the band stopped by the Cat's Cradle in Chapel Hill as part of their tour in support of their EP, A Long and Happy Life. The show sold out, and people packed the joint even for the opener, Lauren Jenkins. (I enjoyed her music, but I'm not sure I'll seek it out again.) When the band took the stage, the place went crazy, and the musicians responded by noting that they were home--and then putting on the best show of theirs that I've yet seen.

They sang all the songs on their EP and a selection of familiar hits. I was particularly happy to get to hear them perform "Run," a long-time favorite of mine, but I enjoyed every single tune.

I honestly don't know why this band isn't selling out arenas; to me, they are just that good.

I can tell you that you are missing something wonderful if you don't take every opportunity to see them perform.

Delta Rae will be back in the area, this time at the Lincoln Theatre in Raleigh, on August 26.

I already have tickets.

You missed a great show

if you weren't among the sixty or so folks watching Stephen Kellogg perform earlier tonight in The Back Room of the Cat's Cradle.  Kellogg played songs from many different albums, added a few new ones, told a few stories, and generally put on a wonderful show.  With a drummer whose name I did not catch (but whom Kellogg nicknamed "Suitcase") backing him on most songs, Kellogg's show was not quite a solo performance but still far simpler than his concerts with the Sixers. 

Click the image to see a larger version.

I'd never been to The Back Room before, so I was pleasantly surprised to find it a much nicer, albeit smaller, venue than the main Cat's Cradle stage.  With a new sound system and new lights and a nicer finish than the older space, The Back Room was a great place for a show.  The speakers were clear, the mix just about perfect, and the resulting sound lovely.  I never had a problem understanding Kellogg; every phrase was perfectly clear.

His show ranged from humorous to genuinely touching.  I was pleased that he played one of my favorites, a song I've linked to before:



As I wrote in an earlier entry, we all should support the artists whose work we love.  I wish only that more people had done that for Kellogg tonight, but for those of us who did, he played his heart out and put on a great show.

YR15 rocked

Yep Roc records is a small label that features quite a few artists I like. When I learned they'd be hosting YR15, a multi-day 15th anniversary celebration at the Cat's Cradle, I was immediately interested. When I saw, though, that the Thursday night roster included both Dave Alvin and Nick Lowe, I knew I had to go.

So I did.

 I would have gone for Dave Alvin alone; Nick Lowe was a bonus, as were the many other artists on the roster for the night. I've been a fan of Lowe's for a long time, but I've remained a stone Dave Alvin fan since I first heard one of his songs, and I've never seen him live.

Until tonight.

This choice was expensive, because in a week in which work has kept me up until about six a.m. each night, taking time off to go to a show would be sure to cost me.

I didn't care. I had to do it.

I'm so very glad I did.

The full show ran 4:51--yes, four hours and fifty-one minutes of music and, between acts, emcee John Wesley Harding talking and singing.  One of his songs was the hilarious "Making Love to Bob Dylan."



The opening act of the night was a band I'd never heard of, Jukebox the Ghost.  I loved them!  They were fun and talented and great at producing catchy tunes.  Here's a silly one, "Schizophrenia."



Near the end of their set, they brought out a local chorus group and did a song with those kids.  The kids then came back after Jukebox the Ghost to sing Nick Lowe's "What's so funny about peace, love, and understanding?"



I teared up listening to them.  I remember being a hippie kid and thinking my generation would end war and change the world for the better.  We didn't, of course, but I like to think we can all keep working toward those goals.

Dave Alvin did a half dozen or so wonderful songs, including this one.



Damn, what a show.  I wish everyone I know could have gone.

The joy of Josh Ritter

Wednesday night, Josh Ritter played at a local club, Cat's Cradle. As I mentioned yesterday, I rushed from the plane, which landed late, straight to Carrboro to catch the show. (I regret missing the opening act, but I arrived too late for it.) Less than five minutes after I reached the spot where I like to stand, Ritter bounded onto the stage.

When I say "bounded," I'm not indulging in hyperbole.  He quite literally moved by leaps, running and jumping his way to his guitar and then the microphone. A huge smile lit up his face, he backed up and screamed with what appeared to be sheer joy, and the show began.

Two hours later, the main set ended.  Less than five minutes later, he bounded onto the stage again, every bit as energetic as he was at the start, smiled as broadly as before, screamed again, and launched into a fifteen-minute encore.

If he wasn't singing a serious song, he was smiling whenever he could, during instrumental portions in songs, during breaks, any time he could.  The picture above is the best one I got, but you can't see his expression due to the lights (though you can see a larger version by clicking on it).  The joy of the music, the joy of performing, was always there, suffusing him, powering him, pouring out of him into the audience.

The audience responded with its own joy, and for two and a quarter hours all I saw around me were happy people.

The show marked the third time I've seen Ritter live, and it was easily the best.  I love his music, but even more I love how much joy and passion he brings to performing. This guy should be selling out stadiums, having number-one albums, enjoying a rep as a performer everyone knows. Instead, he's playing Cat's Cradle, not selling every ticket...

...and giving the show his all. 

In his wonderful song, "Snow Is Gone," Ritter sings this bit:

I'm singing for the love of it,
have mercy on the man who sings to be adored

I believe him.  I don't know him, but watching him perform, I utterly believe him.  I'm sure he has plenty of depressed times, and I have to believe that all the realities of his life are not to his liking, but when he steps onto the stage, he brings the joy. 

More, I believe he's right in those lines.  He really is, and I and every artist I know should listen to him.  

When I fret over the reception my writing receives, over how I'm selling or why I'm not winning awards or any of the other noise that fills my head, I would do well to recall these lines, smile, and take joy in the fact that I'm so very fortunate that people pay to read my stories. 

If you get a chance, go see Josh Ritter.  Bring your joy.  You can be damn sure he'll bring his.