I was late for two concerts this weekend and that really pissed me off. Time management has been an issue in general lately, just because I've got so much stuff to do and keep track of and I'm too busy trying not to drown to really do anything productive. It's awful, actually, and I'd go into it more if I didn't need to stop and hyperventilate if I allow myself to think or speak of it, so I won't.
Rosanne Cash played downtown at George Washington University on Friday. The space is terrible acoustically, and I couldn't believe the number of empty seats. She is such a good performer, though, and her band so solid, that they overcame it with no problems.
I've been a fan of hers for a long time...way before I had any solid knowledge of her father. This can be attributed to my mother's thing for country and popular music when I was growing up, and the fact that it was always on in our house and in the car, where I spent way too much time even then. "Seven Year Ache" was released when I was ten years old, and it's stayed with me for 25 years. I think it's one of the best country pop songs ever written and performed. "You act like you were just born tonight/Face down in a memory but feelin' alright" has always created such a cool image in my mind, and has resonated more since I experienced that feeling myself.
She put this show together for "Black Cadillac", which she wrote and recorded in homage to her parents - Johnny Cash, of course, and her mother, Vivian Liberto...plus her stepmother June Carter Cash. They all three died within a two-year span, and this record was her response to this experience, which was obviously life-altering. She played her older popular stuff, lots of songs from the new record, some songs she said Johnny Cash gave her on a list of the "Top 100 Country Songs" and made her learn, and other cool stuff, like a beautiful cover of a Rita Coolidge song that I think is called "A Diamond in Your Eyes". Sometimes between the songs the stage would go dark, and video and photo montages played on a screen, with recordings of her speaking, reminiscing in what sounded like prose poetry. It was quite effective, and could have been hokey in less competent, heartfelt hands, but it wasn't. She's an author and essayist as well as a musician, so it all fit together.
It seems like time has helped to heal her a little bit, because this show seemed pretty fun for her. Her husband, John Leventhal, is also her producer and guitarist, and he's really, really good. Once we finally got there (25 minutes late, and no opener. Shoot me.) I was actually able to relax enough to realize that I was happy I slogged it out on 16th Street to make it for most of the show. Some Rosanne is better than none, apparently. She's got some nice music, book and film recommendations on her homepage, and one of the most enjoyable for me was her story in her June '04 archives about how Tift Merritt approached her after a show and gave her a cd when "Tambourine" first came out. (You have to click around in the archives a bit, but her recommendations are interesting, and worth the time, I think.)
Anyway...love Rosanne. She's an awesomely talented, very interesting person, who seems dedicated to putting out even better music now than she ever has, which seems appropriate considering her father's approach to his own work later in life.
Yesterday I saw Hem in Annapolis (Here's a nice story on them from my old pal WYSO in Yellow Springs, Ohio.) Late again, yes, and left in plenty of time for an oddly scheduled matinee. The Ram's Head at noon, hello. I spoke with Sally Ellison from Hem later and she said, "Never again" to the matinee concept, which apparently was a tour router's bright idea that didn't go over so well. Like I said, left in plenty of time in a normally functioning universe, but add the Maryland Renaissance Festival, the Annapolis Boat Show, and a Navy vs. Rutgers football game, and what you've got is a perfect storm of state capital traffic. It sucked. Annapolis is accessed by only a couple of roads, and if you want to take an alternate route, you have to know about a half hour out that you need it. I didn't, and once it was clear that 50.7 bajillion people were crammed into the two lanes that take you downtown, I was screwed. I made it, but had missed most of the opening act, Ollabelle, which was sad but completely unavoidable. They'd come highly recommended and I was looking forward to seeing them. I did see about six of their songs and they're definitely worth checking out. Seem like a nice bunch of folks, too...in addition to putting out some good and interesting music. Their cd was priced at 22.50, though, which seemed extreme to me, as much as I like supporting indie music. I need to check into it and see what the deal is on that.
I took away one main impression from the Hem show, although I've seen them before and listened to their cds countless times: I want to hear Sally Ellison's voice when I die. I mean, I want it to be the last thing I hear on this Earth besides the sounds of whatever lucky family members or friends still happen to be around telling me what a profound impact I've had on their lives and please don't go and oh how we love you what a tremendously wonderful person you have been! ; ) (Eek. I wonder who that'll be? I hope there's at least ONE person saying nice things while I LEAVE THE PLANET ON WHICH I HAVE TOILED AND SNARED. Blech, that thought just freaked me out. Do allow me a second to eat more cake until it passes. Thanks.)
Seriously, though...this woman's voice is from heaven. It may have even been intelligently designed. It sure as hell puts its chocolate in the peanut butter that is the rest of the people on the stage, to continue the cake metaphor, and turns it into the musical equivalent of dessert, that's for sure. Not a lame dessert, like...Oh, dear. I'm such a food freak that I honestly can't even think of a lame dessert under this kind of pressure. It's kind of an oxymoron for me. Lord...Anyway, whatever your personal lame dessert would be, it's not at all like that. It's like homemade apple crumble, or melted chocolate volcano cake, or this perfect red velvet cake I had once, even. Dan Messe is a genius of a songwriter, and gets off on assembling a true ensemble of kickass players to make these songs come to life on stage, which they really, really do. And yes, he's very cute, and occasionally I notice these things while being artistically responsible. Whatever. He based "Not California" on the fact that his wife loves crap shows like Laguna Beach and the O.C., which makes him hotter, in that very married sort of way, which is nice.
I've talked about crying a lot lately, which might make me come off as even more of a wreck in print than I am in the flesh, but this is another situation where the band starts playing and I feel like I'm going to jump out of my skin because it's just. SO. BEAUTIFUL!!!!! So of course I start to cry. This tour they have a violinist, a clarinetist and a harpist along, from the Gowanus Radio Orchestra (for whom I cannot find a link, but Claudia Chopek is the violinist and she's all over the web), plus the pedal steel that I love, the two guitars, and a drummer...and Dan on keyboards. Sally Ellison is pregnant, which makes it a total of 11 people on stage this time out. It never seems like too many, though, because they all play so well together and the songs are so beautifully arranged. 
(Here's a crappy cell phone photo. I get a phone trade-in in November and yes, photo quality will be an issue. What a geek.)
And now I'll shut up. Here are some streams from the new record. It's definitely laid back music, to a point, but this is the perfect time of year to discover it - and I'd definitely go back and get "Rabbit Songs" without passing "go"...and try to get to a show, because it'll make even more sense then.
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