Maybe it’s being cautious, maybe it’s getting older (or just old!), but I don’t get out as much as I did in the Before Times. But when I had a chance to see Courtney Barnett in concert, in exchange for volunteering again with Headcount, a non-partisan organization dedicated to getting people to register to vote, it was a win-win situation.
Before the show, and during the opening act, me (in the middle) and my new mates asked people if they wanted to register, or update their info, or join the Save The Vote movement. There weren’t a lot of takers (DC is a pretty politically savvy city, full of voters) but we had a handful of takers, plus lots of “thanks for doing this” comments and support for the cause. (Find out more at Headcount.org and SaveTheVoteAmerica.org)
And then, when I was looking for a place to sit (the 9:30 Club is mostly GA standing), a kindly staff member saw my VOTE VOTE VOTE t-shirt and, as if thanking me for my service (or taking pity on the old lady), got me a seat in the VIP section, where I rested comfortably and was able to get some shots with my “non-professional” (as in no detachable lens) Lumix camera.
I’m a happily married straight woman, but I’ve got a serious girl crush going here. CB creates the kind of sincere, smart and straight-forward guitar rock I love hearing, especially from women, who make those old favorite noises sound new again.
“Don’t Get Around Much Anymore.” I can relate to that song.
It’s not that I don’t love live music. I do! But I’ll admit – as I get older, it takes more to get me out of the house, especially when our National Soap Opera (Can anyone stop Carrot Caligula?) and hockey season (Go Caps!) provide easy, free, comfy-on-the-couch diversion.
But when I saw a posting on DisgraceBook about a Saturday night (February 15) triple bill of local acts playing at a new venue in Falls Church, a mere 20 minute drive from my home, it seemed a chance worth taking. And I’m glad I did.
Tucked in an unassuming suburban shopping strip which serves as an unofficial musician’s hang, with the CD Cellar, Cue Recording Studio and Action Music instrument store lined up in a row, and within shouting distance of The State Theatre, there’s a new kid in town, around the back, called 38 North. It’s another recording studio, designed from the ground up with style and care, that also promises to showcase local music on a regular basis.
I got there when the first act of the night, Kathryn Rheault, was already playing. Her choice of covers – Sheryl Crow’s “Strong Enough” and Joni Mitchell’s “A Case of You” – showed where her personal songwriting ambitions live. She may not be at that level yet, but her lovely voice and casual style were a pleasing start to the night.
I used some of the early time to explore the joint. There are two floors, with a tiny balcony looking down into the the performance space, next to a kitchenette with free beer, wine and major fresh snackage. I’m not sure if that’s going to be a regular feature during live shows, or a bonus due to this being an Opening Night Party, but thanks for the goodies!
Next up was Caroline Weinroth, from veteran local band Cinema Hearts, in a solo set. I chatted with her afterward and she reminded me that I was a judge forever ago when the group competed in one of Jammin’ Java’s Band Battles. She has a better memory – and a brighter smile! – than I, but I bet I gave the band good marks back then. Caroline has an easy, breezy charm and a fun sense of humor in her poppy material (she admitted that she switched up the songs written on her set list) that was fun this night and, no doubt make for some wicked joy when the full band is playing.
Before Caroline played, one of the managing partners of the studio, Sarah Klawitter Marks, took to the mic for a few shout-outs to the people who helped make the space happen, and offered her hopes to make the place a nurturing nest for area musicians and fans.
The last act of the night, The Meer, appears to have gone through some changes, if you check out the bandcamp and Facebook pages. There, you’ll see some long-haired thrashing pics that support a description of “Alternative Indie Post-Punk,” but the two acoustic guitarists who showed up Saturday had a quieter, slightly Celtic, folky vibe. I was taken enough to spring $20 for the Meers’ album, The Branches, on vinyl. (See it on my vinyl-centric Instagram.)
And so, in the space of just under three hours, I was well fed and sweetly serenaded, met some cool new people in the DMV creative community, scored new vinyl, and still got home in time to see the last two periods of the Caps game from Denver. That’s what I call a fine Saturday night!
Well, the Caps lost, but you can’t have everything.
Last week, I was at what is D.C.’s arguably most beautiful venue, The Anthem, for the Ben Platt show. I am not a “Dear Evan Hansen” fanatic (not knocking it, just haven’t seen it) but when Platt performed “Somewhere” (from “West Side Story”) on the 2018 Grammy’s, accompanied by just a guitarist and a cellist, his stunning rendition of the song nearly broke my heart, so I was curious to see him live.
I had no takers when I floated buying tickets, and pondered going solo. But then I saw that HeadCount.org, the national bi-partisan group dedicated to signing up new voters at special events, was offering free admission to volunteers who would stand with a clipboard, addressing the audience as it arrived to find new electoral blood. So, I had a mission, very nice people to hang with, and free entry to the show. Win-win, yes?
Though our little team of four had limited success finding new voters (as our leader noted, D.C. is a government town, so most people are registered), I’d say that 90% of the people I addressed were psyched to see us, many saying “thanks for being here,” or expressing how much they wanted to vote – for change! – as soon as possible. This was an unusually mixed crowd for The Anthem, as you might expect for a concert by an openly gay Broadway veteran touring on a solo album of big-hearted ballads – same-sex couples, white-haired matinee ladies, and high school theatre nerds (I was one!). In short, a place for sequins, not MAGA hats.
But there’s always a few bummers, not downright rude, but folks who look at you like you have three heads when you simply ask, “Are you registered to vote?” And teenagers who don’t know how to talk to anyone not in high school! I asked one girl how old she was (you can preregister at 16 in D.C. and Maryland, 17 in Virginia). She stared at me and mumbled, “I don’t know.” Probably best that you don’t vote, honey.
Doing my civic duty meant that I missed the two opening acts, but I was done with just enough time to grab a bite and find a great seat about 30 rows back from the stage to enjoy the show. (No SLR tonight; just iPhone.)
Ben Platt is a mensch – and I don’t think he’d mind me saying that. He’s a good Jewish boy who talks lovingly about his parents, writes and dedicates songs to them, graciously shares the spotlight with his band, and repeatedly thanks his audience, radiating genuine joy about being back where “Dear Evan Hansen” was born and raised before moving to NYC.
As best as I could tell (again, I don’t know the show), Platt didn’t perform anything from the musical that made him famous (I would have thought maybe as an encore, but no), concentrating on his debut album, “Sing to Me Instead,” and a few cool covers. There is no set list posted from the D.C. show, but this one from Chicago seems to be the same as our show, although I would have sworn “Honky Cat” was the Elton John tune.
Platt’s voice was as good as I could have hoped, his between-song stories were immenschly (I made a word!) sweet, and, considering I barely knew his original material, the songs made a good first impression with their strong melodies and lyrical emotion. I moved closer to the stage to take a few more photos and found another comfy seat in the second row.
Sometimes it feels like the world is on fire and there’s no good news to be had. Spending time in a big room full of people with a like-minded appreciation of musical talent and love (is love is love!) is one way to find hope again. A great way to spend a rainy Saturday night.