All the world’s indeed a stage
And we are merely players
Performers and portrayers
Each another’s audience
Outside the guided cage.
All the world’s indeed a stage
And we are merely players
Performers and portrayers
Each another’s audience
Outside the guided cage.
I’m assuming this is a thread for live performances we’ve been to? (It’s kinda sad that I don’t really go to live performances very often.)
This is the review I submitted to the Bruce Cockburn mailing list for the July 20 (Friday) show at the Blue Note. I went with Tony and two other HBA colleagues, none of whom were the least bit familiar with BC before I invited them along. Review of the Saturday show forthcoming.
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The show was scheduled for 7. The doors were to open at 6. I got there at 5. I was the first in line. When they let us in, the other three in my party hadn’t arrived yet, but I got us the best table in the house. Right near the stage, one column toward stage right. He’s a right-handed guitarist. I knew where the good seat was, and it was mine.
The two friends who sat across me had to turn almost 90 degrees, but the view had to have been worth it. The friend sitting next to me had the second-best seat in the house.
Guitars. Pedals. Tall char. Music stand. Mic. Wind chimes. Short table with a water bottle, and something under a cloth. It didn’t look like the hand drum I hoped to see. It turned out to be the charango.
We ordered food. The Blue Note has a $10 spending minimum on food and drink. This was my third show in the venue, and the food is good if overpriced, but it’s Waikiki, so you expect that. I ordered a burger and fries with a $9 Heineken. Bruce took the stage while I was two bites in. When the show was over, my friend asked for a doggie bag on my behalf, because there still had only been two bites .
I didn’t need a doggie bag for the Heineken.
Here’s the setlist with a few snippets of stage chatter.
(on the six-string)
States I’m In
Last Night of the World
Bruce mentioned that it had been seven years between studio albums, kind of a long time for him. He said something about “this last album” then corrected himself, saying, “I shouldn’t call it the last album.” He talked about writing the book, then said when it was done, he asked himsef, “Am I still a songwriter, or am I Dashiell Hammett?” He talked about how writing “3 Al Purdys” was sort of his test to see if he could still write songs.
3 Al Purdys
“I’m talking too much here,” he said, “but I’m going to continue.”
For some reason in my notes, I have “Tuning!” with an exclamation point. It was just regular guitar tuning so I’m not sure what I was so enthusicastic about. A bartender in the back of the room shook a cocktail shaker rather loudly, and Bruce said, “Maybe he can do that in time with the music.”
Cafe Society
Peggy’s Kitchen Wall
Pacing the Cage (intro only)
“I’m going to move this capo down one fret; my voice doesn’t want to go this high.”
Pacing the Cage
(switching to electric charango)
Bone in My Ear
Mon Chemin
(switching back to 6-string)
“It’s very quiet in here.” Followed by song titles yelled out. I decided before the show that I wasn’t going to do this and wished the others weren’t doing it either so Bruce might fill that space with something to talk about, but someone called out for “Red Brother” and I admit I said, “Ooh!”
If I Had a Rocket Launcher
Wondering Where the Lions Are
If a Tree Falls
(exeunt)
(encore)
“Nobody yelled out Free Bird.”
(on 12-string)
Jesus Train
And that was it. There was a Marlon Wayans performance in the same venue later in the evening, and doors were supposed to open at 9:00. It was getting close to 8:30. The Wayans show was sold out, while Bruce’s show only filled the lower floor. I’m thinking the Wayans show is why we only got one encore song.
When I got to the signing table, I asked him to sign Bone on Bone and my hardcover Rumors of Glory. I appreciate the advice my Humans gave me for requesting a song, but early in the day, I realized the only thing that mattered was that I enjoy every moment while each moment was there. I snapped a few photos during the show, but no video. Whatever Bruce had to share with us was going to be better than great.
However, as I thanked him for finally making it out here, I said, “You know, you wrote Live on My Mind in Hawaii.” Just to plant the seed.
“Did I? Oh yeah. I guess I did. I flew to Maui with Bob Weir and Rob Wasserman for a little songwriting retreat. Bob was too messed up to do any real writing, though, but I guess I got one song out of it. And…well, that’s too long a story. But Bob got one song out of it too, some time later. He used the lyrics I wrote for the verse, and added a chorus.”
“Oh my gosh! Do you remember the title?”
He didn’t. But who cares? I got my own private Bruce story! I also felt good because while I was standing in line before the show, I mentioned to line-standers that Bruce had been here with Weir (I’d forgotten Wasserman if I ever knew that), and they were kind of amazed, so amazed that I questioned my own memory of this bit of trivia.
I said, “I always thought I’d have to get on a plane to see you.”
Bruce said, “Well I got on a plane to see you.”
It was a terrific show. Bone in My Ear was always among my least favorite on Dart to the Heart, one of my five favorite Bruce albums, but it really holds up well, and he tears it up on that charango.
It’s cool that you had a nice conversation with him.
I’m going to Boston for a writers workshop in November. It’s a work trip, but I’m staying a few extra days for some vacation.
Of course the first thing I did was check the Patriots’ schedule. They’re in Nashville the weekend before and they have a bye the weekend after! Boooooo.
The next thing I did was check the Celtics schedule. They’re in town for three games, including the Raptors. But before I bought a ticket, of course I checked Ticketmaster for concerts. That’s usually the first thing I do when I travel but I’ve never traveled during football season.
The Alarm.
Boz Scaggs.
Letters to Cleo with American Hi-Fi.
Alan Parsons Project.
Grand Funk Railroad with Foghat.
Patton Oswalt.
Darryl Hall & John Oates.
Toto.
Bob Dylan (with band).
Echo and the Bunnymen.
Lake Street Dive.
All in the week I’m going to be there.
Honestly, my heart felt like it stopped when I saw the Alarm. I have longed to see them live since the late 80s. And even though it’s basically Mike Peters with a backing band now (no one from the original lineup, I think) I totally would have gone if it weren’t the night before the workshop starts. I can’t risk being up super late before this thing I’m getting paid to attend. Praise God: the concert is sold out so I won’t be tempted. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
Dylan tickets START at $255 and go up to $585. It’s a small concert hall, which must be the reason. Pass.
There are only two single seats left for Hall & Oates, and they’re $155. The Ticketmaster service charge would bring that up to $200 so pass.
I was surprised to see that Lake Street Dive is also sold out.
Anyway, I have to make some choices here. The only no-brainer was Echo and the Bunnymen on the last night I’m in town. I almost can’t believe I’m getting to see them, and if I don’t do anything else while I’m up there except this, it’ll totally be a great trip for me! I splurged and got a seat in the orchestra pit, right on the aisle.
Toto’s not in the city, so I might pass on them. The frontrunners of the remaining acts are Letters to Cleo (they were that band the main characters were always seeing in the club in 10 Things I Hate About You and I really like them but I’d be more amped to see American Hi-Fi), Patton Oswalt, and Alan Parsons Project.
How do people live in big cities like this where there’s a good band in town almost every night?
I’ve never thought to do that when I travel. Would this be a good way to find jazz performances as well?
Anyway, sounds like a fun trip. I assume the conference will be something you would enjoy as well. Also, if you get to try the cannoli at Modern Pastry or go to Helmand, an Afghani restaurant, let me know. I really liked both.
It’s a good way to get the big names. I used to look at those alternative weekly papers (like the Honolulu Weekly) for the smaller names but not many cities have those anymore.