How badass is that poster? So badass that, in my excitement to obtain it, I managed to acquire two of them.
So, here’s the deal: Now This Sound Is Brave will celebrate two years of existence a week from today. To celebrate this thing we do with the music and the writing and the writing about music (and writing about writing about music), we’re going to give a gift to you. Well, to one of you. But you have to earn it.
In order to own your own beautiful, 3-color, 18″x24″ lithograph poster (and it is even more striking in person) created by Jeff Proctor for the Black Keys’ December 11, 2010, show at the Rimac Arena in San Diego, California, you’ll have to tell us about an important music moment in your life. Be it funny or touching or something that will make us all want to slash our wrists, whether it involves playing music, listening to music or meeting a music hero, as long as it was important, influential and memorable to you, we want to read about it.
The sharer of the best music moment, judged by my own indefinable I’ll-know-it-when-I-see-it standards, will win my extra Black Keys zombie poster to have, to hold and to scare young children with. The deadline for entry will be 5 PM EST on January 26, and I will announce the winner on the NTSIB anniversary, January 27, giving you about a week to compose your entry. And that’s one (1) entry per person, please. Submit your entry as a comment to this post, and please remember to include a reliable e-mail address. (We reserve the right to share your story in a future post to the blog, though, of course, with full credit to you and retaining no copyright for ourselves.)
Good luck, kids. Thanks for being here.
I remember my first not-Raffi concert vividly: my dad took me to see Ozzfest in Las Vegas. It was the first time I was cognizant of marijuana (“What are they rolling on their programs, dad?” “Oh, um, I don’t know, Jess.”) and it was the first time I felt the center of my chest vibrate, just as the concrete of Thomas & Mack was vibrating, from the incredibly loud music. Pantera played an extra long set (I didn’t know what a treat that was at the time) and I heard Black Sabbath play all the songs I’d listened to as a little kid with my dad. He shared a fond story of seeing Black Sabbath and Blue Oyster Cult with my mom at the Ventura Fairgrounds in 1980 — it was so loud that they got noise complaints from miles behind the stage, so he said. And I saw Marilyn Manson who was my latest curiosity. The flesh-colored boobsuit? The Hilteresque podium and grandstanding? What did it mean? Why did he do it? It was so fascinating. But that’s not my favorite musical moment.
My favorite musical moment is probably my least favorite concert ever. I took my baby sister to her first concert: Panic at the Disco at a venue in San Diego. She’d been obsessing over them — my whole family knew all the lyrics to all of their songs because we heard Panic so much — and she was ECSTATIC to finally see them live. The venue was overcrowded — dangerously so — and it was hot. So fucking hot. The place was crawling with screaming adolescents. My sister kept wanting to get closer, closer to the stage and even though I saw security pulling crushed and crying little girls from against the railing by the stage, I acquiesced. My less-adventurous middle sister went to hang in the back so that left me, as chaperone, next to my baby sister who kept pushing forward. The crowd surged and swirled and I kept a firm grasp on my sister who was rocking a permanent grin. Since my adolescent Ozzfest, I’ve traveled the country to see amazing concerts, but I’ve never been so packed like a sardine at a concert ever. As the crowd swayed en masse, my sister and I commiserated about how soaking wet we and our clothes were. We realized that it wasn’t our own sweat — it was the sweat of the strangers pressed up against us. Yuck. Big smile. I saw fights and fists as people bumped into people. Feeling maternal (and unsafe) I asked my sister to go to the back with me but she pleaded no, please, Jessica, please, I want to be closer. Okay, okay. At one point she looked at me, I thought she was going to cry, I hope she was going to ask to move to the back, but instead she said, out breath, “Jessica? I forgot to wear a belt today and my pants are falling down and I can’t move my arms to reach down to pull them up. Will you pull up my pants?” So I elbowed my way down to pull up my sister’s jeans because the crowd was so tight that she literally couldn’t move her arms. That’s my favorite music memory: sharing my sister’s first concert with her because the mix of emotions that music elicits is to be shared. It might be a better memory than losing my virginity. Certainly more sweaty. Let me think about that.
As an aside, I’ve never really had a favorite band. Even when I was in elementary school and my friends screamed over New Kids on the Block, I was too cool for that. Those girls were stupid. I never had my own Panic at the Disco. I’ve loved Led Zeppelin, like everyone else (thanks, dad); I love Neil Young and Radiohead; and I had a pretty serious Talking Heads phase… But I don’t know if any of those are favorite musicians . . . Till the Black Keys. I’m an adult woman and the Black Keys are my favorite band. Like those girls in elementary school, I have a band I listen to pretty much every day; I have their full discography on vinyl that I’ve culled from various record label stores and music shops, despite my poverty; and I have a dog named Dan because he looks exactly like Dan Auerbach. The Black Keys introduced me to dirty, Fat Possum blues and I love them for that, too.
I can send you a picture of Dan Auerbach if you’d like but he’s wearing a cone of shame right because he just got castrated and he won’t stop licking his scrotum.
Back in 2009 while I was interning at Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, I saw that Public Enemy was scheduled to appear as the musical guest. The day they were scheduled to appear also happened to be the night after Flava Flav’s 50th Birthday Bash. As the music intern it was a special privilege to lead musical guests around NBC Studios and in general just make them feel comfortable. Chuck D arrived promptly at 10am to make it in time for the 1030am dress rehearsal, Flava Flav was nowhere to be found.
After spending an awesome day with Chuck D (by far the coolest, most down-to-earth performer I was fortunate enough to meet) Flava Flav finally rolled in around 2:30pm to make it in time for the 3pm show taping. Immediately upon arrival he PASSED OUT (not fell asleep mind you) on a couch in the green room and could not be awoken under any circumstances it seemed. Eventually his entourage splashed water in his face and was able to get him to chug two full redbulls before stepping into the soundproof locker that separated backstage from the television studio.
Featured with Public Enemy on LNwJF that night was a brass horns ensemble which called themselves The Network. They were brought on to flesh out the sound the Roots would be providing as Public Enemy’s rhythm section. Chuck D politely introduced them as The Network to Flav as he entered.
Flav swung his head around the room and eyed every member of the group finally spouting “Whattup……… NETWORK!” He then went into a (I kid you not) full 5 minute pep talk about how they as performers were fisherman and the television audience were all the fish. “Listen Network, we out here and we gotta make out NETS……… WORK!” was the highlight line I remember from his jarbled rant.
Needless to say Chuck D ignored the whole pep talk as if it were a part of Flav’s usual misinterpretations of life itself. They went on to perform an awesome show, and The Roots provided the tonal melodies beautifully.
The moral I took from the whole event was “Yes, Flava Flav is indeed just as ridiculous as people say he is”
3/5/09 Lucero @ Big Daddy’s in Tallahassee, FL: my personal experience of a Lucero show and about letting go…
Caleb McLeod started the show off but I wasn’t there. And I know that if Lucero brought him, I probably should have been there on time. But me and my girls had to have some “Ashleigh’s Sweet and Sassy†– rum and cream soda. Emphasis on the sassy (the rum) we had to start the night off just right. We did make it there just in time for David Dondero who was the perfect primer for Lucero. He did a cover of “Willin†which is one of my dad’s favorite songs and “I sang along†and it reminded me of being a little girl and riding in my dad’s truck – going places – it never mattered where to. Lucero live is a very private affair for me but I will let you in on a few pieces – but not all of it –because that part is just for me – wrapped up tight like a secret. The energy in the bar was palpable – as is always the case at any Lucero show. All the day’s excitement (for me) had culminated in that moment – and I was there – and it felt good. Those boys played their hearts out on 3/5/09 but they always do. And as they played – I danced and I sang and I screamed and I smiled – and I smiled. I was fortunate enough to be on the front row, directly in front of Ben Nichols, with my thighs pressed right up against the stage. Some of “my best girl†s were a few rows behind me. I felt guilty about that but they knew (though they might not be able to comprehend or understand it fully) how much I wanted to be up there – in that moment – in that spot – in exactly that way – cause “I’m just that kind of girlâ€. So they let me have my night with no complaints. And the band “played on and on†and I continued to dance – and sing – and scream – and smile. The kids to the right of me were a little more expressive (or a lot more drunk) than the kids to the left of me – and as the band pushed on, those kids to the right of me, began to push back – and they pushed so hard that I began to fall over. So naturally, I pushed back, trying my best to hold down my place because I wasn’t going to give it up (not in that spot – not in that moment – in exactly that way). Those kids pushed so hard, in their experience of Lucero, that I had bruises on both of my thighs as a result of being pushed up against the stage…but that just made it all the more real – and the “real†was a kind of real that I would gladly take. My catharsis came (and I knew it was coming – as with any good climax) when they played that song – and they got to that part that says “so dry your eyes and say goodbye, cause he just ain’t the one†and in that moment – when it finally arrived (and in a moment when I could finally accept it) – I closed my eyes and screamed those lyrics as if I were screaming for my life (and I was in a way…and for any dignity that I might have left) as it was in that moment that I knew I was letting Scott go. And it was enough…goddamn it was enough. I was letting him go but keeping the “bad tattoo†that bears his initials (SL) – but I can surely bear a cross. And maybe, just maybe…one day I’ll get my crown. And you know, “a heavier cross’ll make a brighter crownâ€.
Too drunk to drive home, I got dropped off at a friend’s house – her new house where she had recently moved in with her fiancé – and while they laid together in their bed down the hall – I laid alone on the couch – and as always, with a letting go (Scott), there are some tears that may come – and they did come – and they flowed – and they flowed easily…but it was alright cause “my tears don’t matter much, don’t matter muchâ€â€¦and they never have.
Ashleigh Jordan
One of the most badass show i can remember is going to go see Mayhem in Santa Ana, California. I won the tickets at last minute and i had no one to go with. Out of cheer luck one of the singers of my ex band called me to ask if i heard about the Mayhem show and i told her yes and that i just won the tickets. So we got ready and drove for two hours to go see the show. The car broke down three times but we still were able to make it before it even started. While waiting in the parking lot i asked a guy if i am able to have a cigarette, he said “yeah” and i gave him half of the chips and dip i had bought the day before. We munched down and then went to go wait in line. When the will call booth open they were unable to find my name and they’ve searched and searched but nothing. I thought we weren’t going to be able to go in but at last minute a guy came rushing and gave a list of people that have won some tickets and by luck my name was there. Soon we were inside and went straight to the smoking section where we met this awesome older guy who was telling us stories of how the music scene was back in the 80’s and how fortunate people now are for seeing so many good bands out there. We went inside to check out the first band and they were pretty okay. Later on i went in the pit for the second band that were playing heavier and faster and by my surprise I found a unopened pack of cigarettes. I picked them up and asked who they belonged to and no one answered so i opened them and had one for myself. i sat down near the bar and the same old guy came near my friend and i and gave us a full plate of cheese fries. i gave him half my smokes and he returned them back saying that i needed them more. Then Abigail Williams came on stage and were so perfect. It was the third time i was watching them live and they never seem to disappoint. And then the main act Mayhem came on… and damn it blew everyone every. It was my first time seeing them and everyone was energetic. The whole crowd applaud and cheer and moshed. Beautiful. They played many of their hits and their latest stuff. As soon as the show was over my friend and i sneaked to the side of the stage and it was a really long hallway. We went backstage and met Necrobutcher, the bassist of Mayhem. He shared with us his wine, and we were discussing politics and how everything works from where he’s from. We had cigarettes and told funny tour stories to each other. He gave me great advise about my band and music. He walked with him to the tour bus and quickly greeted everyone. we went back outside and we all ate the chips and dip that was left over. After that he went on his back and gave us a hug and thanks for enjoying the show. We were driving home with a huge smiled in our faces, but not before almost being hit by a commercial truck. My friend dropped me off and i walked home and called up my girlfriend and she said she got tickets to go to another Mayhem show and were going to meet the band. I couldn’t help but laugh and told her my story and couldn’t wait to go see them again.
-Yoin Segundo
I could easily write about the first real concert I saw (New order / Echo & the Bunneymen, Nautica Stage, 1987). I could also write about one of the many legends I have been fortunate enough to have seen. People like Johnny Cash, Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Peter Gabriel or Dick Dale, I could also write about the time I saw Ringo Starr and dozens of 50+ women threw their bras at him. But I won’t.
Instead I will write about the first concert I saw at Cleveland’s best live music venue, Speak In Tongues, which has long since closed. Speak in tongues was an underground club as opposed to a proper music venue. The advertised very little, mostly on college radio and by word of mouth. They had no licenses of any kind and no proper management. The people that ran the club lived there as well. In the late 90s WRUW had an excellent jazz show on Sunday nights. I can’t recall the name of the show or DJ but they featured lots of new avant garde jazz and improvised music focusing heavily on NYCs downtown scene. It was through this show that I discovered that the William Parker quartet was coming to town. The venue was Speak In Tongues and it was set for a Sunday night if I recall correctly. I am guessing this was in 1996 or so. The show was to start at 9:00 and I got to the venue at 9:30 and was the first one there. The door person didn’t know how much the cover was so he asked me what I thought is should be. I paid him and walked in and looked around. The main room had a decent sized stage and old church pews as seats. A second room had a bar that was obviously not stocked. A lone TV was turned on its side and had static playing on it. I wandered back to the main room and asked the door guy if they sold drinks. He said no, but the gas station across the street had a good beer selection. I walked across the street and bought a six pack. By the time I got back a few more people had arrived. At 10:30 or so the opening act started. It was some CSU students playing standard post bop. They weren’t too bad and played for 30 minutes or so. After their set some random hippie looking girl started to read dark poetry and no one seemed interested, During her reading a cat tat lived at the venue started to walk on the piano providing some much needed humour to the depressing poetry.
After a bit William Parker and company came on stage and played one of the best sets of live music that I have ever seen. The interplay between Parker (acoustic bass), Susie Ibarra (drums), Rob Brown (reeds) and Cooper Moore (piano) was phenomenal. They played a lot of material from the as of then unreleased Peach Orchard double album. This might be the best quartet in all of jazz history, at least for me. Parker is the best acoustic bass player since Charles Mingus and might even be better. His use of bowing was transcendental. For the 90 minutes or so that they played I was in another world. This very well might be the best concert musically that I’ve ever seen. No other group of musicians has ever had the perfect interplay that these four had that night. When the over I was was in a magical state of euphoria that I haven’t been in since.
After this show I went back to Speak in Tongues many times. I saw musicians as diverse as Ottomo Yoshihide and Le Fly Pan Am. When the club finally closed ( I think their landlord kicked them out) the live music scene in Cleveland suffered greatly., This was the best place to see avant garde and other decidedly non mainstream artists. I really miss the place.