It was an entertainment twi-night double-header to remember on Friday. And not just because of the good stuff, which was plentiful.
First, I caught a late afternoon screening of the surreal Bob Dylan tribute/biopic “I’m Not There,” which was a trip and a half, with multiple actors playing different elements of the American folk-rock icon’s personality during different stages of his life. It’s interesting to note that filmmaker Todd Haynes chose stars associated with the characters of Batman (Christian Bale), the Joker (Heath Ledger) and Queen Elizabeth I (Cate Blanchett) to help portray Dylan in “I’m Not There.” No one ever said that the Bard of Hibbing wasn’t a complex individual.
The movie, with its non-linear approach to its subject, will certainly stimulate debate. There’s a lot of great music, including stuff by Dylan himself (although he only appears very, very briefly in a morsel of archival footage at the end), as well as covers of some of his songs by the likes of Eddie Vedder (“All Along the Watchtower”) and Stephen Malkmus ("Ballad of a Thin Man”) with the high-end pick-up band The Million Dollar Bashers (featuring Sonic Youth guitarist Lee Ranaldo and drummer Steve Shelley; Wilco guitarist Nels Cline; Television guitarist Tom Verlaine; bassist Tony Garnier; guitarist Smokey Hormel; and keyboardist John Medeski). Plus, the soundtrack offers provocative selections from John Doe, Yo La Tengo, Richie Havens, Sonic Youth and Antony & the Johnsons, among others.
Self-indulgent? Yes. Audacious? You bet. And finely wrought, well-acted, and beautifully shot. Worthwhile for music lovers and those interested in the socio-political tides of the late 20th century? Absolutely. Potentially infuriating to Dylan’s most fervent fans? That’s a given. I recommend it.
From the screening room, I motored over to the Regency’s Grand Ballroom – which was known as the Avalon Ballroom way back in San Francisco’s psychedelic era. During the halcyon daze, the space featured bands such as Big Brother and the Holding Company with Janis Joplin; the 13th Floor Elevators; Quicksilver Messenger Service; the Steve Miller Band, Moby Grape, and, appropriately enough, the Paul Butterfield Blues Band with guitarist Mike Bloomfield who played on many crucial Dylan sessions, such as those that produced the classic 1965 album Highway 61 Revisited.
But it ain’t 1967 anymore, and my destination was the second of two sold-out nights of exquisite chamber-folk by the duo of Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová, a.k.a. The Swell Season, and their opening act, the brilliant and earthy Martha Wainwright. As many must know, Hansard, frontman with the rousing Irish rock band the Frames, and his partner Irglová, Czech singer and musician, are on a major roll owing to their starring roles in the acclaimed indie feature film, “Once,” which mixes romance, music and a touch of humor to heartwarming effect.
Backed by bass, violin and cello, they were simply wonderful in concert, doing material from the film and their album The Swell Season, and throwing in a few extras including the passionate, witty, ever-anecdotal Hansard’s stunning solo cover of his countryman Van Morrison’s “Astral Weeks,” and to further appease an extremely vocal Irish contingent in attendance, his attempt at a wee bit o’ “Danny Boy.”
Speaking of audience participation of the unwanted kind, the show was seriously marred for me by an ongoing display of rudeness by various patrons that peaked during Wainwright’s performance, but reared back and messed up some otherwise marvelous moments in the middle of the Hansard-Irglová set.
Martha - daughter of folkie and actor Loudon Wainwright III and Kate McGarrigle of the McGarrigle Sisters, and sister of the clever/tender singer-songwriter Rufus Wainwright – is one smart, sexy, tough cookie with a powerful voice and a randy way of strumming a guitar (really). She writes enticing, dryly witty songs that slip in some brutal honesty about interpersonal relations before you even realize what you’ve heard. And she was completely insulted by the ignorant fools in the crowd who stood in the hall and talked, laughed and ignored her as she tried to sing, play and be heard over the din. Without being a bitch about it, she even requested a little courtesy halfway through her set, was greeted by cheers from those who wanted to enjoy her talents, and then, was dissed by the jerks who went back to their thoughtless blather.
I was embarrassed to even be in the same room as those creeps. You’d think that they’d be a little more respectful of Hansard and Irglová, since most of the paying customers were there to see the headliners – and probably only because of having seen the film. And it was a little better, until the ensemble played two significant numbers from “Once”: “When Your Mind’s Made Up” and “Falling Slowly.” After the whoops that greeted the start of “When Your Mind’s Made Up,” a 6-foot 3-inch lummox pushed past me to get a better look, bellowing “Let me through!” Then, upon the intro to the signature song “Falling Slowly,” a blonde woman behind me dialed up her cell phone and loudly proclaimed to her friend at the other end of the line, “They’re playing it now! You’ve got to hear it! Wanna hear it? I’ll hold up the phone.” Which is what she did for the rest of the piece.
I don’t know how we counter such a lack of civility. I’m beginning to think it’s reaching epidemic proportions. Maybe we can’t stop it. Meanwhile, I’ll try to think of the positive aspects of the evening, like Glen and Markéta’s cheerful, harmonious encore version of Dylan’s "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere," which they recorded for the soundtrack of “I’m Not There.”
Thus, things came full circle, and the weekend got off to a pretty unforgettable start.
To give you a (heh) Frame of reference, here’s a recent Hansard performance of “Astral Weeks” from Czech television:
And, just because she was so brutally shortchanged at the Regency (and because she’s so damned fine), here’s Martha with her band on “The Late Show with David Letterman,” performing her glorious “When the Day Is Short”:
My Trusted MOGs
Mike - great review. Unfortunately the terrible experience of rudeness in trying to enjoy a film, has now made its way over to live music - a true shame. Apparently you can't kill them with kindness, so unless the venue has the kind of security that Bill Maher beefed up to after getting heckled a couple of weeks ago, might I recommend a Taser? :)
If we don't have the kind of social contract we would like, perhaps a specific one when we buy a ticket, that we can enjoy the show in relative peace and quiet - or we demand or money back... not sure... you're right, perhaps we'll never get it back.
My Trusted MOGs
Mike, I think the only way to deal with the show talkers is to confront them head on. When I was at Rilo Kiley the other month these rather inebriated girls kept shouting things at the band in a really annoying fashion...after a while it went beyond the joke, and one man let out a "shush!" that grew and was joined by the whole crowd. They were silent after that.
My Trusted MOGs
Hey Mike,
It's a sad state of affairs and one that I wondered was a mostly UK sort of stupidity. It seems that ignorance and ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder) is a Transnational condition at gigs. My own experience, having played numerous acoustic shows here in the Midlands, is that I can't really see the point anymore. Shame, given the apparent rise in live music as a direct correlation to the falling sales of music product that we have the same short term attention span associated with download - listen - delete habits, even when they have paid for the privilege.
What I found in one particular venue was similar to an audio boxing ring. In the left corner - the DJ (Loud, then even louder dance etc) = audience incapable of holding conversation so they watch the football on the screen above the bar. Sound man signals that acoustic act is starting and he begrudgingly fades the track. Audience realise they can talk now and begin just as the acoustic act plays first song, then talk all the way through. Acoustic act finishes and DJ gets the signal to turn it up again = audience watch football.
All in all an excellent way to kill live music.
The other end of my experience being a really nice acoustic night in Camden, where the promoter respectfully asks the audience to respect the artist and a little cardboard fold-out reminds them on each table to refrain from talking while the artists are playing. It works.
Over all though the fast food, fast drinking 30 second MTV twats will always find it difficult to pay attention and will always insist on the right to drag it all down to their level and dumb down culture. Shame!
What can be done? I think I agree with Vannatta that the promoter needs to be held responsible - whether it be a local acoustic act or a named act is irrelevant. If you go in a restaurant and someone started making that sort of noise or abuse, usually they would be asked to leave. I can't remember encountering it in an exhibition, never seen it on late night snooker - don't think it happens at funerals and probably doesn't happen in their place of work (If they do). I dare say they would be non too happy if it happens when they are trying to sleep.I presume it isn't an issue during a poetry marathon at City Lights? Unless it's deliberate! wouldn't get away with it in Macy's and almost certainly not in Neiman Marcus - so why accept it at a gig?
A friend of mine used to ask them if they had an opinion - and offered to explain what the word meant...sometimes it worked, usually they just got more aggressive as the whole room laughed at them.
My particular favorite was John Lennon's approach during the Star Club day's when they would get a Silver Beetle boot in their face from the stage. Of course you can't do that these days and I wouldn't condone violence (Well...).
Maybe the answer is to get into Thrash Metal so you can't hear them or yourself for a week afterwards?
On a more positive note - I'm looking forward to seeing the Dylan biopic - looks CrazyGood!
My Trusted MOGs
Yeah, guys. Infuriating situation.
The social contract seems broken beyond repair, Van.
Jox, there were some “shushers” who were emboldened by Martha’s plea for a little quiet, but far too many idiots returned to their babble by the end of the next song in her set. I fear for the republic, etc., etc.
And chandlersford, I agree. It does seem like the only way to avoid being disturbed by unruly subhumans in a concert audience is to go to a gig where they’ll be drowned out – any high-volume rock show.
My Trusted MOGs
Mike, Sturgell just posted something about a Taser at a show here - too funny...
My Trusted MOGs
funny? hell, that story put a feather in my cap. Now I have the strength to carry on through the week
My Trusted MOGs
Such eloquence should not be wasted by my rubbish comments. So clap * clap * clap
(Thanks Mike for this lesson in writing)
My Trusted MOGs
Heck of a weekend, lucky bastard! ;)
I really dig Martha, isn't she all that? That song recently made it on to a mix for someone, it's a good 'un. I think my favorite tactic in that sorta situation is to go ask the folks why exactly they are there in the first place. And maybe bring up their mother...
My Trusted MOGs
Your eloquent review inspired some eloquent comments. Now all I can think of are grizzly revenge fantasies against those loudmouths, but not involving any metal tools.
My Trusted MOGs
Color me jealous!
I'd love to see Hansard and Irglova play live, not to mention Martha Wainwright as she is one of my favorites too.
Thanks for the videos.
My Trusted MOGs
vannatta: Ah, Tasers. The perfect solution...
Sturgell: Fight the power! Get a Taser!
Bartleby: You're welcome, but there ain't no lessons here. Just cold, hard facts and a dollop or two of opinion.
kristiana: Just a typical Friday night (heh), albeit very diverting. I do believe that Martha is the real deal. And I will make note of your approach and apply it next time - along with my Taser, of course.
Spike: Okey-dokey. No hammers, pliers, monkey-wrenches, saws or screwdrivers. Big rubber mallets?
moovyphreak: Helluva bill. And those vids are my pleasure as well as yours. Enjoy.
My Trusted MOGs
Hot damn, I just learned they'll be in Atlanta this weekend at the Variety Playhouse, a really cool venue in a really cool area of town. I had tentative plans for that night locally, but this double-bill is worthy of a road trip.
My Trusted MOGs
"a 6-foot 3-inch lummox pushed past me to get a better look"
So this must be the same show Blair was at?
My Trusted MOGs
moovyphreak: If you go, I bet you'll be glad you went.
tybees: Nah. I think the lummox must've traveled between L.A. and S.F. to wreak havoc at both shows. Bastard!
My Trusted MOGs
I just looked up "lummox" and now I feel kinda bad for saying that - it's quite the insult! All in jest, of course.
And I never made it to the theater for "Once". It played for one or two weeks here and I kept forgetting to go. I can't wait for the DVD.
My Trusted MOGs
Mike... I was JUST going to post something about these nitwits that feel "acoustic" means "Talking Time"... I'm not a violent man, but I would have tasered a few people at the Elvis Costello and Emma Pollock shows last week...
I still don't know who pays that kind of money to chat away while the artist is playing... I would also add that I think other artists are to blame for this... often, I hear members of a band and their friends chat away while the next band goes up there... I can only wish the same experience during their shows... you'd think they get it... morons.
My Trusted MOGs
tybees: “Once” just wasn't enough for me. I had to see it a second time, and will probably grab the DVD and watch it again. I think you'll enjoy it too.
ZenPop: It's a real pain, man. You'd like 'em to just shut up, and when they don't, you do start wishing them ill. C'mon, karmic balance. Do your thing!
My Trusted MOGs
An exceptionally well-written account, and what a fabulous evening. Looking forward to viewing the film; adore Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová as well as the stunningly talented Martha Wainwright. Musical talents definitely worth supporting!
We cannot, unfortunately, legislate civility or genetically instill it in individuals at birth. I'm extremely well-mannered due both to nature and breeding, however, I find it necessary to resort to purely mediaeval tactics when dealing with lummoxes, thugs, and belligerents. Though such persons rarely respond to reasoning, they respond remarkeably well to the voltage delivered by a hand-held cattle prod or stun gun - these devices seem to most effectively 'speak their language'. :-)
My Trusted MOGs
I can't wait to see "I'm Not There." And I'm sure Dylan fans are excited to have another reason to be pissed off.
And, yeah, people suck.
By the way, your description of the sound of the theremin in your last bit was totally brilliant.
My Trusted MOGs
Girlcrawl: Just trying to get the word out, ma'am. As regards the ignorant, I have considered goin' Medieval on they asses, but am unwilling to risk the stockade or worse for a few moments of satisfaction.
El Monko and Son: Seriously, man, I'd love to own a theremin. If only there was room in the Knife Archives for such a device...
My Trusted MOGs
do you think it's the way the venue is set up? i've had this in some popular and lovely venues when the bar/toilet area is situated in the same room as the performance. or usually during the opening act, i can't stand this. happened to me with annie clark and joan as policewoman. this sounds like a good evening still, perfect itinerary anyway. can't wait to check these two films. thanks for the good read.
My Trusted MOGs
You're welcome, Lady C. As it happens, the toilets are outside and adjacent to a spacious lobby, but there were two bars in the back of the main room. That said, the audience was much more polite to Glen and Marketa - except for the apparently uncontrollable whooping from some overzealous fans that accompanied peak moments. Perhaps it was the Guinness talking...