matt nathanson :: the beacham, orlando :: 09.02.2019
Since moving to Florida, I’ve been missing out on one of my favourite things - music therapy.
It was so much easier to get in the car and drive the four hours to Albany every couple of weeks when I needed my fix. I definitely don’t have that here… not even working at the arena could cure my need for live music. Mostly, because I couldn’t connect to the music. I saw three concerts the entire time I worked at the arena… and bands that can fill an arena generally aren’t my thing any more.
Give me the bands no one’s ever heard of. Give me the bands that aren’t on the radio twenty-four-seven-three-sixty-five.
Enter Matt. We’ve seen him twice in the past year, once in Pompano and yesterday in Orlando. He’s definitely a one-hit wonder, but his live shows are something else. When he’s allowed to truly be himself on stage, it’s amazing. Last night was definitely no exception.
We paid for the meet and greet, which is something I normally don’t do, but it was worth it for the three extra songs we got from the soundcheck.
He also brought his song wheel. Motherfucker, did that make the night even better. Spinning and hoping that it landed on something he actually wanted to play - it was the best mix of drama and comedy. (“The wheel is like democracy - you get what you don’t want”). The wheel fucked him so bad at one point, that he moved the wheel to the song he actually wanted to play. (“You drink the beer, the beer doesn’t drink you.”
Other bits that I made note of:
Nobody can fuck up a song like Matt Nathanson.
We’re hear to see Mike Nickerson.
No one wants to hear an angry folk guy do metal.
And I can’t forget his story about the hippie chick that LICKED HIS ELBOW. (I suppose, in her defence, she DID ask him to bed, and she DID ask him if he wanted to try something…) The best part of that entire story was when he looked at the fourteen year old girl standing at the barrier and told her to close her fucking ears. He loves making a big deal out of kids in the audience, and then he forgets they’re there and it can get pretty raunchy.
He also told the story about how his daughter has an entire pintrest board dedicated to him, and also how she busts out bits from “Run”. I cannot imagine hearing an eight year old sing “I wanna watch you undress”...
I’m still kind of reeling from the events of late November / December / early January and waiting for the other shoe to drop and last night was EXACTLY what I needed. Plus, we squeezed in a couple of hours at Universal, and we all know how much I love hanging out in Diagon Alley.
Gavin DeGraw is at Universal next weekend as part of Mardi Gras and I am so very very tempted to go back for for the day. Even though I’m not a huge fan, I like him enough to attend a free concert. I can’t afford another overnight, but the concerts get out early enough that the drive home shouldn’t kill me.
I mean, it is only a three hour drive…
OE at MSG - 03.04.17 :: easily the best concert i’ve ever been to. ever.
Today’s my Hitchhiker’s Birthday… it’s been kind of meh, to be honest.
Saturday was the 25th anniversary of my mother’s death and I decided to go to CT. I ran in almost knee-deep snow (in sneakers!) to her grave and spent 20 minutes spewing every negative thought I’ve had during the course of those 25 years. Yeah, it was fucked up, but it was SO freeing.
After that, I stood at the side of the road and read a blog entry to my grandparents. It was the blog entry I wrote about our trip to Lviv. My pronunciation sucked, but the thought was there.
Totally random - next to my usual parking spot, they were preparing for a burial. It was a woman I’d grown up with, a close friend of my grandparents. Wasn’t ready for that.
Another totally random thing - my uncle’s been dead for FIVE YEARS and the stone hasn’t been updated yet. FIVE FUCKING YEARS. WHAT THE FUCK IS MY AUNT DOING?!?!!?!?
Once I got my fill of hanging out with dead people, I went to my little brother’s house for a birthday lunch. It was a good time. We went for a walk and shared some deep things that we both needed to unload. I don’t want to go another six months before I see him again… I’m not sure I can go another six months without seeing him again.
Then, I went to a BMS show in Cambridge. So nice for there to be a show only an hour from home. Their drummer’s been problematic since he started and this show was particularly horrid. It wasn’t helped by the fact that the old drummer was there. He was singing because one of the other members had laryngitis and it did not go over well when he pointed out that the drummer was too loud or too fast.
It was a nice break from the shitshow that my life is. I’m working through a lot of things right now and I’m not sure what’s being exacerbated by the bipolar and what’s just really fucked up. It’s harder to make decisions when everything is murky. Either way, I knew which decisions need to be made and I know what my decision is… I just don’t have the balls to pull the trigger and walk away from a situation I might be reading wrong.
Я не здамся без бою.—> The story of my life right now. *sigh*
Стіна, Для тебе, і Мить
Gearing up for a concert that I don’t yet have tickets for… but I have THREE alarms set on my phone so I don’t miss the presale.
That’s not obsessive, is it?
I just came back from a week in Phoenix and I AM DYING.
I went on this business trip with an extroverted co-worker and even though we had separate hotel rooms and were in separate classes, she was like this huge energy vampire whenever we were in each other’s company.
I got home well after midnight last night and was just so emotionally drained that there was no chance I would be functional today.
I’m pissed and disappointed, but judging by the amount of energy I’ve had today, I definitely wouldn’t have survived. I lost $75 if they won’t let me reschedule. I don’t mind losing it; it was for the best.
I also cancelled my trip to the Putnam Den to see Black Mountain Symphony.
In happier news - here’s a kick ass cover of Okean Elzy’s “In Heaven / In the Sky” (depending on the translator, I guess)
I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death…
My first introduction to music, real music, was at my aunt’s house. Bowie and the Stones were played in constant rotation. My aunt had a love for Bowie that was only rivaled by her love for Mick Jagger. She loved Bowie so much, she dressed up as Ziggy Stardust for Halloween.
Bowie’s music was so woven into the tapestry of my life that when things disintegrated between my aunt and I, my CDs and mix tapes went into deep storage. I only listened to him when I happened upon his music via the radio or tv. To willingly listen to it tore open wounds that - a fuck ton of years later - still haven’t healed properly. It’s weird how music gets tangled up in the mundane operations of day-to-day living to the point where the situation and the soundtrack are so intertwined that you can’t have one without the other. Bowie will forever be trapped in 1975 - 1992, at 26 Marmor Court, Wethersfield, CT… and the mere thought of hearing any of Bowie’s music takes me right back there. It’s not always a happy place.
Worlds collided in an unexpected way the other day when I saw the headline on the Ukrainian language version of the BBC’s website. The photo caught my eye, and I skimmed the headline looking for words I recognised. It was easy enough: Died Singer David Bowie. I was so thrilled that I understood the headline, that its meaning didn’t sink in right away.
And then the tears came…
And Ziggy played guitar…