I drove a long and perilous journey back home Thursday morning. Driving through Knoxville is better than any roller coaster on this planet. If you're ever going east through Knoxville get in the left freakin' lane and ride it the whole way through town. It's so much fun. I had a seatbelt on and I was all over the freakin place. Anyway, I got home around 2:30 pm and that's when the real fun began...
Ryland, Austin, Zach, and I parked on Rankin Ave. in downtown Asheville, and started to ascend further into the glorious part of Asheville we know as "downtown Asheville" where the hippies run free, have acid trips, and recite poems for "gas money." Thus begins the next few parts of my story.
Not having any clue where we wanted to eat, of course we ended up at Mellow Mushroom. Just like any other time three or more of us go out we had to practically harass the waiter. He takes each of our orders and finally comes to Austin:
Waiter: And what will you be having?
Austin: *in raunchy voice* I'll have the ten-inch Italian SAUsageeee
*fits of laughter break out*
Yup. Then we got to observe some guy have an acid trip. He was slapping himself and everything. However, this seemed to amuse Zach more than the rest of us... *looks around*...BTW Ryland's "Magical Mystery Tour" pizza, or whatever the heck it was called was f'ed up. Don't ever eat green pizza you freaks. BTW#2: I definitely saw Matt Martin on the patio of some restaurant. It was the most random thing that's happened to me since... Well I would've said attempting to crash Hickie's party, but that was last night. Oh well. IT WAS RANDOM. Matt Martin's awesome. Anyway...
After dinner we ventured up the street to where we were greeted by three charismatic males that looked to be in their early to mid-twenties. One of them proposed the idea in exchange for a bit of "gas money" we would be entertained and enthralled by a simple poem that he would recount for us. Not having any coins I didn't partake in this "gas money" giving ritual, but I did confess to the guy that I would love to hear a poem. Ryland, Austin, and Zach gave them a couple of coins, and I knew exactly what was coming seeing the guy put his hands together in a praying fashion, closing his eyes, so I sat down on the brick wall behind me. I was entertained too many times in Mr. Jolley's class to not know that a slam poem was coming directly our way. Before he began the poem he explained that the place he was describing was his hometown. It was definitely one of the best slam poems I've ever heard. He had the perfect attitude and stance about himself to present the poem. Experiences like that shouldn't require money because you never know when you're going to change some random person's life by simply closing your eyes and reciting a poem. I commend that fellow.
At this point I realize you're wondering where the concert review comes into play. My friends, patience, for this wasn't just the experience of the concert I want you to realize was amazing, but the whole evening was a grand adventure.
Then, we began walking the four blocks down the street to the Orange Peel. We purchased our tickets and hung around outside for a while before going inside the 'venue'. After having our hands covered with black, permanent marker and branded by 'the man' we walked inside the Orange Peel. And I must say, whoever designed it did a very good job. Sound booth in front of a wall that had a hall leading the the restrooms, a colorful bar running the length of the building to the left, tall chairs and tables at the back and to the right of the stage, the stage - fairly big, good size, and of course the merch counter. And for those of you not down with the music biz terms, I'm sure you can figure out 'merch' is the ever-money-making term coined for merchandise.
The first band, as we figured out, was the much anticipated Holy F***. Holy F*** is a band that originates from Toronto, Ontario. If you're like me...not a huge fan of Canadian bands... I was a little concerned with the fact that I paid $15 to see a potentially sucky band. I suppose there's always that risk though. I was disappointed with this band. I'm not a fan of electronic bands. I love the art of songwriting, so obviously I was at a loss here.
As far as I could tell (watching the concert-go-ers on my half of the venue) the crowd wasn't exactly into their music. There were a couple of people acting like they were at a rave, but they weren't even dancing to the beat. I guess all Canadian electronic bands can't make it in hippie-Asheville.
I was expecting another opening band to come on before Wolf Parade, since there was another band listed on the set list, however, Wolf Parade went on about twenty minutes after Holy F***. Yes, we had to part ways with Holy F***. It was hard for me, personally, but I had to let them go.
Wolf Parade has an extremely unique sound. Now, who's to say if that's good or bad... Not me, this time. This was actually the first concert I attended where I was in awe of the kind of music that was being performed. And when I say performed I mean the guys in the band kicked ass by getting the crowd into their music, perhaps more than they already were. But first me in all of my awe-ness. The lead singer's voice was daunting to anyone that was hoping there were going to be amazing vocals involved with this (also Canadian) band. However, Zach brought something to my attention. I was trying so hard to see the lead singer's voice as impeding. However, it fit perfectly...and I mean ideally, with the band's sound. That's where my explanation of how they performed comes into play. It wasn't a lead singer singing with his band. It was a full band playing their hearts out, hardly even paying attention to the crowd, because it's exactly what they love to do. That's an amazing thing to experience. You hear plenty of bands that just play and sing together, but seldom do you find a committed band that performs together.
Everyone keep a sharp ear open for Wolf Parade. They're going to go as far as their talent takes them, and from what I saw...that's to the moon and back.
Lindsay Marcus
(written: Apr 16 2006)
