10:13 a.m.
I feel like it’s been ages since I’ve updated you lovely readers on my weekend events. Have you felt like something important in your life, say like your leg or your dog, was missing? Did you wake up one morning and think, “Oh my god. I have no idea what she did this weekend? What am I going to do?” Well, I offer my most sincere apologies and vow to make a strong effort to update you on a regular basis.
So, here we go. Friday was pretty great. After work the boycotter and I drove to Bloomington, IN to see the number 3 band on my list of Top 5 Favorite Bands: Umprhey’s McGee (1. Widespread Panic 2. Talking Heads 3. Umphrey’s McGee 4. Led Zeppelin 5. Calexico - this list is subject to change depending on my mood and the time of the month).
If you are a Panic fan and have been for a decade or more, you will know what I’m talking about here. You know that feeling of excitement you get when you’re on your way to a show? It’s sort of like the night before Christmas. You know you’re about to get some gifts. Yes, they’ll probably be a pair of socks and maybe a sweater that you don’t really want, but that’s okay. Because under that tree is also a Playstation 3, a new laptop, the latest ipod and a flat-screen plasma t.v. Oh, and in your stocking, a $250 gift certificate to Best Buy. Well, here lately, that’s the feeling I get before I go to an Umphrey’s show. I guess you could say they’re my new Panic. Not that they would ever replace my boys from GA, they’re just gaining on them in the last stretch.
So, we get to Bloomington and have no freaking clue where they are playing.
I thought I read (a.k.a. assumed) they were playing at the basketball arena. Well, that wasn’t correct. Luckily we saw some crazy colored lights and some pseudo hippies and figured we were headed in the right direction. We run to the box office to get tickets and these morons are taking freaking forever. So, of course, we miss the first song. That’s okay though. It’s only one song. We will survive. We finally get our tickets, pick our seats in the nearly empty balcony and prepare to get our groove on.
The venue is a pretty small theater, much more intimate and enjoyable than a basketball arena. And we pretty much have the balcony to ourselves, which is great. At the last Umphrey’s show we saw, we didn’t really have room to fully get down to the ground with our sweet dance moves. However, this time, we had the whole row to ourselves and I was able to play my air guitar until my pulmonary-stenosis affected heart was content. And while we were roboting and sliding our way around the aisles, the rest of the losers (not that I am a loser) were just sitting around like they were watching Les Mis or something. Attention losers: You are at a rock’n’roll concert. It is acceptable to stand up and dance. In fact, it is practically illegal not to. Stand up and move. You will feel better and will probably burn a few calories at the same time.
The first set seemed to fly by, and with it our bourbon buzz. Yes, this lovely theater on a college campus sold no alcohol. Nothing. They didn’t even have snacks. All they had to offer was water and Coke products. Yay. Luckily I was still having “tooth pains” and had something that could ease my suffering.
Ahem.
Here’s the first set:
Set I: Andy's Last Beer, Divisions> Ringo> Dear Lord> Ringo, Mullet (Over), The Haunt> Divisions
After a quick set break, the boys were back and ready to rock. Luckily those boring non-dancers from the first set left and some energetic new blood filled their seats. They kicked off the second set with a nice reggae version of Pink Floyd’s “Breathe.” Following that was a brand spanking new tune, that had moments reminiscent of Don’t Fear the Reaper. It had my head ringing for sure. And next up, one of my favorite songs to spazz out to, “Hurt Bird Bath”. Now, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression when I say I “spazz out”. I don’t start having seizures or anything and I don’t start dancing around like I’m doing the African Anteater ritual (Ronald Miller is the coolest).
When I say that I “spazz out,” I simply mean that I get very into my air guitar. I somewhat start to channel Jake and his movements and I become one with the band.
(source) (source)
Does this make me crazy or a freak in your eyes? Hopefully not. I just appreciate music and their level of talent and in hopes that I could ever even dream of playing one note that they do, I try to emulate their every waking move (creepy laughter and hand rubbing ensues). I kid, I kid. I totally sound like a psycho. I just like to rock out.
Here’s the second set:
Set II: Breathe> The Floor, Hurt Bird Bath, Slacker> Sweetness> Slacker, Alex's House> Prowler> Breathe
So, during the end of Prowler, they totally teased my all time favorite song, “The Triple Wide.” I just knew they were going to play it. I’ve only heard it a couple of times live and the boycotter has never heard it. Just once, I thought they were going to make my day. WRONG. Those jerks didn’t play it. Oh, but I looked at the setlist for the following night. And you know what they played? Yeah. “The Triple Wide.”
They can kiss my triple wide ass. Kidding again. I love you guys. They did, however, encore Much Obliged, which always rocks and the kick-ass Fugazi cover, Waiting Room.
The first time I heard them play this song was at Tipitina’s in New Orleans during Jazz Fest.
This was the longest show I have ever seen in my life. Literally. We got there at midnight and they began playing shortly afterwards. I don’t know what time it was when they took their set break, but I’m guessing it was somewhere around 3:00 a.m. Gabbi La-La and her freaky ass came out and played during the break and then stayed on stage with them for a few songs.
It was pretty bad ass. But by about 4:45 I was starting to struggle. At some point in the morning, I remember leaning my head on a post (while standing up) and taking a quick nap.
Well, around 6:00 the show was over. Or was it? One more song. I didn’t think I had any energy left in my body to even shake my booty one time to the right. Well, then Ryan kicks off that bass beat and people start screaming “I am a patient boy…” and suddenly I was revived.
I no longer felt like I was in the waiting room. I could dance again. It was a miracle. Well, then the song ended and we walked outside to be blinded by the sun and the faces of the sketched out hippies. That’s always the first thing I like to see when I walk out into the morning dew.
Anyway, what was I talking about before I started rambling? Oh yes, so, the show was great. We opted to drive back instead of spending money on a hotel. I started the journey and made it all the way to I-65 before my eyes began to get heavy, heavier, closed. Thankfully, the boycotter is a trooper and drove the rest of the way. I wanted to stay awake and talk to make sure he was alert while driving, but after about 2 minutes in the passenger seat, I was on my way to Snoozieville, not to be confused with Louisville. Somehow that’s where we ended up though.
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