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acl, day one

September 26, 2005

for three days, i saw some great music at acl. and yeah, some not-so great, and some that i could tell was great, but that i just didn't care for. kinda like cyndi crawford - yes, i know she's hot, and she seems nice enough, but she just never did anything for me.

the quick run-down...

day one, i got there early enough. i rode down with... well, with a date, sort of. no, a date, i suppose. ok, the whole reluctance here is looking back. even on friday, i knew it wasn't there, though, wasn't what i wanted. i'd probably been ignoring that a little bit for a while.

anyway.

friday, she came to my apartment, and we rode our bikes down to zilker park. when we got there, it was, in its own, more arid way, like the fields o gettysburg must have looked before they were drenched in blood and corpses and debris. the grass was still green, and, you know, in existence. the air was hot and clear, though filled with rita's last veiled threats, whispered in strong gusts of wind and feathered clouds moving contrary to the direction of the puffier clouds below.

the cost of compromise, the lesson i thought i had thoroughly learned last year, hit me again this year. we arrived a couple of hours late, which allowed me to be tortured not only by the last couple of minutes of what seemed like a blazing set by kasabian, but with the entire steve earle set.

i expect to catch shit for this. i have respect for the guy, and yes, i'm opposed to the war, and yes, i'm opposed to the bush administration. but i didn't go for the message in it's blinding, all-or-nothing, cindy sheehan should be made a saint entirety, and the music just didn't do much for me. unfortunately, among many of my friends, this is the equivalent to "if you don't support the war, you don't support the troops" mentality. my date ate it up. i nodded.

during the set, my date saw her ex-husband, apparently for the first time since their divorce, and announced she was going to go ruin his day. given the fact that he left her in a midlife crisis spasm, i was all for this. from a distance, the exchange looked civil, and it was not until later that i learned that the words "fucking" and "dickless" made numerous appearances. i was incredibly amused; she was ridden, and rendered silent, for the rest of the day with guilt. i proposed the idea that she hadn't said anything that he didn't bring on himself. i also offered the option of her apologizing to him for timing and tone of her attack. she opted instead for going to confession.

i had heard a clip of "mates of state" that sounded promising, a band consisting entirely of a man and a woman and their keyboards. i would later hear my own opinion repeated by almost everyone i talked to - absolute crap. harsh vocals over muddy keyboards, no melody, like some horrible junior high version of bad new-wave music.

we next went to check out the iguanas. the promising-sounding mindy smith had canceled, as many bands had due to hurricane rita's ripple effects, and she was replace by a band called "the iguanas." a new orleans musician had assembled an all-star cast, which supposedly included "members of peter gabriel's band."

no one was able to tell me who that might be, until one of my date's friends said that he had heard that it was peter gabriel's saxophone player. the problem is, peter gabriel has no saxophone player, at least not since his second or third album in the late 70's or early 80's. there was the horn section that played on a couple of songs on "so" in 1986. i don't think that counts.

the iguanas amounted to little better than a competent tejano band. one song did stand out, however, because the chorus at first sounded like, "tengo cinco novias que no tengan un novio." to the best of my weak-assed spanish, this translates to, "i have five girlfriends who don't have a boyfriend."

this seemed to me a great line, but it eventually became obvious that the lyric was something completely different, and far less interesting.

we grabbded our first food of the show - the fish taco's from roy's, which were excellent. pretty simple, really - some cheap-assed cod, with a light but spicy breading, with a chipotle aioli sauce and shredded cabbage, in a corn tortilla. my own cooking tends to be narrow-minded and straight to the point. i wield spices and sauces like crude bludgeons. but i could tell that in this case, the cabbage's bitterness was canceled out by the spiciness of the fish's breading, leaving everything in perfect balance. all for $5.

we heard a bit of nic armstrong and the thieves, who were good enough, and then i found myself at robert earl keen.

yes, i share a first and second name with him. yes, he has a good song about a transvestite hank williams sr. but i can now safely say that that's as far as my interest level extends.

the tide began to turn, though, when i broke away from keen and the date to check out soundteam, who really rocked. i was able, for one of the few times over the weekend, to get close to take some potentially interesting pictures.

i also found i had messages. one friend had arrived at the festival. the client in the divorce case was calling, asking if i could still come to new braunfels and do the prove-up next week. damn.

and then a call came through, a response from a hopeful voicemail i'd left that morning. she would be leaving early sunday morning, but would love to go to breakfast saturday morning before i took off for day two of the festival. she said to call her when i got home, even if it was late.

minutes later, i found the first gem of acl - thievery corporation.

thievery corporation were one of the acts i had really looked forward to. i had first come across them on the wholly amazing "garden state" soundtrack. but i was completely unprepared for the sheer energy and passion of their show. it was one of the shows that most closely approached last year's show by the roots, that had made the whole weekend worthwhile.

the date said it was "like three bands in one," and she was right. the band, actually just two white d.j.'s, were joined by reggae singers, sitar players, hot brazilian chanteuses, and other singers, all of whom were able to completely electrify the crowd and get it bouncing.

then, it went back downhill. again, i have all the respect for john prine, who will no doubt be remembered as a songwriting legend, though i don't really know any of his songs. i spent the hour watching his strange overbite, and looking for any signs of lower dentition. i saw no such signs.

but it was time to stand and not be distracted by, you know, good music. i watched the people go by, and something was different. more specifically, i watched the girls go by, and something was different. i saw, but didn't long for, them. i kept thinking about the girl i was going to breakfast with the next morning.

this is not something revolutionary. this is, you know, the way it should be. but whether it's accurate or not, regardless of how it turns out, it's something i haven't felt in a lot of years.

we took a break for food again, getting a couple of cold chicken and avocado wraps from maudie's, a totally filling and yummy bargain for $5. we sat and ate in chairs in the volleyball pits, which acl organizers had cleverly "repurposed" as a children's play area, lyle lovett and blue october colliding weirdly in our ears.

we closed out the night with the black crowes. it was, i think, the fourth time i've seen them, and was a sort of tribute to the biggest single hearing-loss event of my life. my friends and i had third-row, dead-center tickets for the crowes in the early 90's at the now-demolished convention center. for days afterwards, we called each other, asking each other in loud, fearful voices, if their ears still rang and hurt, too.

i was amazed at the show. i was amazed that chris robinson could still sing like that. i was amazed that he could be married to kate hudson.

eventually, the date asked if we could leave. on the way out, i learned that she really only liked music that she knew. she also didn't like instrumentals. really doesn't like jazz.

more and more, all i could think about was breakfast.

we got home, and hugged, reprised the end-of-the-night kiss, and all i wanted to do was go in and get on the phone.

after the call, i felt myself smiling, and there was nothing i could do about it.

Posted by Rob at September 26, 2005 08:04 PM

Comments

Posted by: H at September 27, 2005 09:34 AM

Posted by: rob at September 27, 2005 09:52 AM

Posted by: the date at January 15, 2006 02:57 PM

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