sebadoh

Originally written September 2006.

“Guess what, Sebadoh is playing New Orleans tonight and Birmingham tomorrow night.” My girlfriend at the time, Tara exclaimed.

“Oh man!” I replied, “But we can’t see them, can we? What with the final dress rehearsal tonight and our first performance tomorrow. Well, I could maybe go tonight. I mean I’m not actually in the play, the set is totally finished, and my only other tasks are putting on your old-age makeup and doing a few minor set changes. Someone else could probably pick that up for me.”

“If you’re going, then I’m going too. It’s not like I don’t know my lines or anything. I’ve got my little role down pat. They won’t even miss me. Do you think Stephen will be mad?”

“Yeah, but he’ll get over it. What can he do, fire you?”

And with that Tara and I were off to find a way to New Orleans. We had a few minor obstacles to tackle: We didn’t know exactly where or when the band was playing. Then there was a little business about not having a car. It’s a 300-odd-mile journey from Montgomery to New Orleans and we had to be there within a few hours.

We decided to impose upon our friend, and fellow Sebadoh fan, Devon. Maybe he could get some info and a ride. He was duly excited by the news but had no information and was also automobile-less.

This was all pre-internet, or at least pre-internet for myself and the university, mind you so we couldn’t do any fancy Googling to gather venue information and direction.

We decided to hunt down Michelle, a student originally from New Orleans hoping she might have a phone book, or at least friends she might obtain information from. She had nothing but did add that everybody who is anybody plays Tipitinas when they play New Orleans.

In several hours we had managed to pick up an extra person, but had no transportation, no time or directions, and only a vague possibility of a venue.

We found our other New Orleans native and drilled her for information. She was even more clueless than Michelle. She did, however, have a phone card (for there was no long-distance plan on campus) and thusly dialed her friend who looked up the number for Tipitinas. Dialed again and confirmed the night’s show.

Bingo, we had a venue. Some quickly jotted down directions and we were on our way.

Well on our way without a way to get there.

We leaned on our friend Green Day (thusly dubbed for his fandom of the band and our lack of knowledge of his real name) who amazingly agreed to go though he had never heard of the band and would have to work the next day.

Wandering the streets of New Orleans after dark with only a vague idea of where you’re going is an interesting experience. From what I could tell it was a beautiful city filled with tree-lined streets and a pulsating vibe even miles from any real scene.

A cabbie honked and hollered out his window to us in greeting. He yelled to us that he was a member of the church of Christ. An odd proclamation to make in the middle of the night down a busy city street, or so we thought until we realized that Green Day had a “The Churches of Christ Salute You” bumper sticker riding the tail of his car.

I remember very little about the actual show. We arrived late, and my inexperienced little body cringed as Tipitinas seemed more like a dive bar than a hip music club. Devon brought along a little mini office recorder and dubbed the show for his later listening pleasure.

We made it to Tipitina’s a little late. Sebadoh was already performing. We pushed our way up close as Devon got out his little mini-recorder and newsman-style made announcements while he then proceeded to record the entire show.

Afterwards, we hung out on the side of the venue, near a van that surely must be the bands for an hour or so hoping to see Lou Barlow and the rest of the boys. We dreamed of hitting it off and going someplace for coffee, waffles, and good times.

When the band did come out Tara managed to say something cheeky like “great show” while I stood in the back smiling like a fanboy too nervous to actually talk.

Green Day decided he was too exhausted to drive home and I volunteered to make the trip. Before conking out it was explained that the speedometer was broken and that I should let the RPMs be my guide.

Somehow I managed to make it back to Montgomery, though I didn’t know the way, and had to wake Devon up for directions back to school.

I finally hit the bed well into the day’s morning light. The director gave us a right ribbing for missing dress rehearsal and threatened to kick us out of the show, but in the end, all was forgiven.

We didn’t see Mardi Gras, nor sample the excellent cuisine, nor take any of the sights and sounds of the Big Easy. But we heard its call just the same and took a mad dash trip through the wee hours and made it back with a great story to tell.

I hope the city will do the same for someone again, someday.

elton john honky chateau “I Think I’m Going to Kill Myself” – Elton John
from Honky Chateau

Remember the line in High Fidelity where Jack Black, speaking about Stevie Wonder’s “I Just Called to Say I Love You” asks if it is unfair to criticize a formerly great artist for his latter-day sins. A question that could easily be asked of Elton John, whose Lion King soundtracks and lyrical changes to dead princess’ are enough to put him on the bad artist list.

But it’s songs like this that make me resurrect the old man again and again. Suicide was never so fun, at least not until Heathers came along. The music is like a circus, with a choir-like chorus singing a hymn to the fallen egos of teenage life. Perhaps it is a bit morbid to smile so big while singing along to a song all about killing oneself, but John creates such a terrific melody that it’s hard not to jump up and dance around the room listening to this tune.

Revisiting his early 1970s albums make me remember what a really terrific artist Elton John really is, but like a lot of artists with a string of hits so overplayed on classic rock stations you have to dig into the albums themselves to understand.

bob dylan blood on the tracks “Lily, Rosemary And The Jack Of Hearts” – Bob Dylan
from Blood on the Tracks

At nearly nine minutes this is one Dylan story song that I’d like to cut out a few verses from, but being the master storyteller, you’d have a hard time finding something weak enough to cut.

Supposedly this album was written at the time of Dylan getting divorced. But like much of Dylan’s life and music, there is plenty of information refuting this as well. Whatever the inspiration, this is one of the best albums by an artist full of great ones.

Like “I Think I’m Going to Kill Myself” this song has a bit of a carnival going on in the music. The organ rolling in the background bounces as Dylan acts as the barker telling his story for all who will listen.

marc cohn album “Walking in Memphis” – Marc Cohn
from Marc Cohn

There was a period of four years that I often made the nearly 800-mile drive from Montgomery, Alabama to Claremore Oklahoma, and back, visiting my family from college. On almost every trip this song played while I traveled through the city of Memphis, and I swear to you it was always raining. Perhaps it was just me, or maybe Memphis radio stations like the idea of playing a song about Memphis in the rain while it is raining in Memphis. Whatever the case, it always produced a big smile in the middle of a long drive home.
I was fifteen when this song first came out. I grew up attending a conservative Christian church, but the first part of my teenage years was spent rebelling against those ideas. My parents were always urging me to make the commitment and become a Christian. There were too many questions that went unanswered in my head to take that step, yet the thought of being a heathen and rotting in hell kept me up more than one night.

I loved this song, but the lyric where the lady asks the singer if he’s a Christian, and his reply “Ma’am I am tonight” always gave me pause. I liked to think for that moment in the song, I too was a Christian and then I was pained to realize that I was not, nor necessarily wanted to be one.

sebadoh bakesale

“License to Confuse” – Sebadoh
from Bakesale

Speaking of college, I met my first real girlfriend via a Dinosaur Jr. t-shirt during my freshman year. It was her that turned me on to Sebadoh, being fronted by Lou Barlow, Dinosaur’s original bassist.

Though not really my style anymore, songs like this remind me of my long haired-hard rockin’ punk days. This is low-fi, loud guitar post-punk music. It’s a somber song, bad relationship singer-songwriter stuff, recorded in a bedroom and amped up to justify the grunge rockers’ credibility.

john denver rymes and reason “Leaving On a Jet Plane” – John Denver
from Rhymes and Reasons

I always duck my head when I admit I’m a John Denver fan. He’s just not hip, or cool anywhere in the world. But there is something about that nerdy folk singer that I dig to my core’s end.

Back several years ago when my wife was just my girl I finally made the jump from being in a long-distance relationship (she lived in Indiana, me in Tennessee) and moved to the same town as her to see if this could really work. She promptly moved to Montreal, Canada.

There were some major bumps in that road for the summer she was gone, and this song brought tears to my eyes more than once. She had left on a jet plane and though I knew she was coming back, I wasn’t so sure I’d be there to meet her. It all worked out well, and three years into a marriage this song can still bring back tearful memories.