Live Music Log, January 2019

Hi.  I'm a guy who goes to shows in West Michigan and then writes down what I remember about them. These are their stories.

1 5 19 Olivia Mainville #24 (with Brandon James) Waverly Stone Gastropub, Holland   A little more awkward than usual, with it being Date #5 and us being the only people there to specifically see these guys, but it was fun.  The tiny relationship is already over, which colors my memory, but without notes, I can say I remember this was a nifty night.  Low key friendly spooky kidz playing gypsy swing, trading back and forth on guitar and bass in a Holland windowfront, making their own jollity and sharing it with us.

1 11 19 Emilee Petersmark #4 Saugatuck Center For The Arts, Saugatuck  Even more awkward, but I'm glad I came out to support my friend, because I think I was the only one there specifically to hear her.  This was a gallery opening for the excellent, unsettling art of Julie Liger-Belair and Jessica Calderwood; "surrealist motifs and folklore in playful yet subversive explorations of gender, identity, and fantasy." Em was hired to sit in a corner and sing and strum unobtrusively while people milled, mingled and gawped. But for me it was a treasure trove of music:  her longest ever solo show, she was playing a whole lot of stuff she almost never has to dust off.  Ancient pre-Wives songs, brand new ones, rarely heard gems:  I never knew Diving Bell was her song since Kate sang it on the record. People were appreciative and friendly, but only I was rapt, perching awkwardly on my stool while munching little nibbles and watching all the money walk past. Afterward I discovered the best fried chicken on the planet (at the Southerner, north side of town).  Great night.

1 18 19 ANNAGAIL  Seven Steps Up, Spring Lake  Jenny Maloney was a childhood playmate, and an acqaintance in high school, but I can't say I knew her well.  Now Jen Adams, she has lived a hell of a life, with her husband Jared and their big brood of kids, many adopted.  Jen has Lyme disease, and their house burned down, and their daughter was once abducted, and they have a band (I never even knew she could play and sing!) where all those demons can be exorcised. This is what not giving up sounds like.  Annagail has apparently existed in some form for over 20 years, and used to be basically country-tinged CCM, but it has evolved into something broader, deeper, weirder and more inclusive. The audience was a bit of a Zeeland-hair invasion, with lots of friends and family coming out to support on this rare big-show occasion.  Jared has a Josh Ritter vibe, a pleasant baritone, and an adept guitar touch.  Both Jared and Jen picked up a mandolin for color at times.  And their bassist (I missed his name) is a ringer, adding killer harmonies and multiple instrument skills. Comedy and drama bits scattered throughout:  the tale of abduction on a mission trip.  "Beware the chapstick resin." Opening up about chronic disease. "You're almost always slightly certain." "Jenny Jones's hole." Small town anthems about times both desperate and idyllic, residual Jesusness around the edges but tempered with life-triggered healthy agnosticism. An absolutely beautiful number, Every Morning, performed all gathered round one microphone.  Family members brought on stage to add harmonies at one point.  Jen to the audience after an F bomb:  "oh that's right, I swear now." There is joy, and there is pain, and at its best Annagail shows you how to celebrate both. (This video is old, but it gives you some idea.)

1 20 19 ERIC ENGBLADE/PATTY PERSHAYLA/Nicholas James Thomasma #7  Creston Brewery, Grand Rapids  Another installment of the Songteller Series, with two more artists whose stuff I have heard but had never seen live, and boy were they impressive. Patty is a friendly feral cat with lightning fingers, smartass lyrics, and an Elle King war whoop to be envied.  They baptized her on Halloween, you know.  Highlights:  Charmed, a tale of competing lucks, and Walking On My Hands: "you might have the floor, but I'm dancing on the ceiling." Eric is emotional vaudeville, like Matthew Sweet and Chris Whitley teaming up on Superdrag covers. In a town full of guitarist/singer/songwriters, he brings something intangibly different.  Check him out, I can't really describe the sound well enough. And Nick is a human avatar of a VW bus:  whatever your truth, he will get there slowly but in style. No Man's Land is a hit dangit.

1 22 19 Open Mic with featured artist The Fancy Restaurants  Park Theatre, Holland  Thanks to a rib injury that was too painful for work but okay for shows, I got to this open mic for the first time, hosted by Olivia Mainville and featuring acts of wildly varying quality.  The first guy was ok but Jesusy. There was a comedy dude, with a keyboard, who told the true story of when he had a bicycle pump inserted in his bum. Long story.  It involved audience participation.  I hurt from laughing.  There was another comedy dude who used race and copious expletives, and he was terrible. A fellow named Jonny came out, looked like surfer frat bro: opened his mouth, smooth like Babyface, with accompanying cool-cat guitar.  Astonishing voice. Featured artist the Fancy Restaurants, one dude in a toque, had musical comedy bits that were often quite funny, but leaned on gay humor in a weird way:  couldn't tell if borderline homophobic or just obnoxious. Monkeys Are Brown was the best bit.  Rapper kid, very good, not my thing. Like all open mics, needed more estrogen.  Worth coming out, in the balance.

1 23 19 Open Mic at Louie's Trophy House, Kalamazoo, with featured artists Kaitlin Rose and anna p.s.  I also got to attend Carrie's regular open mic for the first time in 14 months, to eat the delicious wings and listen to the diversity.  The overall quality of performances was lower than Holland, but the two women who were featured really throw off the curve.  Kaitlin is a coiled little hurricane in cowboy boots, and the semi-sloshed audience in there looked up from their beers in appreciation while she played. anna p.s. is quieter, but with a low purr that makes you listen in closer so as not to miss any nuance.  Also plays the flute, and managed to use a looping pedal to duet with herself. Apologies to the other performers, but other than a stream of consciousness "poet," none of the dudes stood out for me. I am semi-apologetically predisposed to female voices and perspectives.

1 25 19 Borr (#13)/McFerrin (#23) Final Gravity Brewing, Kalamazoo    

NORTHLAND/CAPT. CAT  Old Dog Tavern, Kalamazoo  Nice little duo show in the Long Boozy Dining Room that is Final Gravity. Folky strumming, blues picking, Matt's fine baritone blended with Carrie the Harmonizing Machine: nothing not to like here...other than unkillable crowd noise.  When the volume picked up, the hosers talked louder. Dreamed A River might be Matt's best song, and it was killer this evening. Gun Street Girl, their frequent Waits cover, also slayed 'em.  From here I headed over to Old Dog for something different. I missed the opening comedy jazz of Chuck Whiting, sadly:  I really like that fellow, but have yet to see him perform.  I did catch most of NorthLand, which is hard to describe.  Abe Savas is in the band, but his Costelloish wry perspective is not the driving force here, it's the other fellow, Bob Lewis, who is driving the bus.  From their site: "Thick Ozark smoke with a sweet Kansas City slather on some slow cooked homemade backwoods blues." My thumbnail impression:  Tom Waits fronting Chicago. The other band, Capt. Cat, is a whole other thing.  Like all the bands from Aris Hampers' old KLQ progressive rock show thrown into a blender and pureed.  Heavy pop with a light heart, Shudder To Think rhythms, abridged Phish tunefulness, maximalist Spoon, like Bob Welch fronting Modest Mouse.  Feels like a band that should be playing Rupert's, not Old Dog. (And there are about five people out there who feel what I mean.) Needs Further Investigation.

1 27 19 Crane Wives #60  Salt Of The Earth, Fennville  I was back working, but I got done in time to race to Fennville for this, and I am so glad I did.  Yes, that is a big #60 there, but there are a lot of rewards associated with seeing an act so many times:  different nuances, subtle changes, differences in crowd vibe and band vibe and room shape.  This high priced restaurant in Fennville sounds AMAZING. People sit and listen intently, with minimal clinking. And they book top shelf local talent for these Sunday night shows. I captured a new Dan Rickabus original; that heartfelt interjection at the end is all me. This is a rock band now, not the loudest around, but the guitars are getting knotty, the bass is king, and the drums always do the right thing.  They're my friends now, yes.  But they're a damn fine live outfit too.  Always a good idea.