I used to go out and see live music more nights per week than I stayed in. During my developmental years of 17 or 18 through my mid-20’s I probably spent as much time standing in front of live music as I did sleeping. As I got older and fell out of the scene of people that went out to live music, I never missed it. I have been occasionally drug to something, or chose to go to a show because it was right around the corner. I enjoyed being a homebody, not staying up late, not driving all corners of the country chasing bands. Wifey is constantly telling me how much I love live music, and how much it must be a part of my blood. She tells me that my head lifts, my eyes get wide, and my ears perk up just when I hear something simple, as we are walking by a park, or when I simply hear a guy with a guitar at a coffee shop. I don’t notice, but she does.
My longest running friend Matt Urban (pictured here, the less handsome guy) has a project called In the Light. They perform the Led Zeppelin double album Physical Graffiti. They did it once already back in January, but I was occupied running away with the Carnival. That was a nice built in excuse to not have to stay out late one Saturday night. Selfish I know. In the Light performed again last night. Matt told me about it a long time ago, and I got my tickets. I was going. In my mind I was going to support my friend and his endeavors. I knew I would have a nice time, but dragging my ass out on a Saturday night is a chore all by itself. I went last night with the newly formed Chappy Clan. We got there early and had dinner. The Queen is an excellent place, just the type that I would see any show. I was able to have ice cream, coffee, sit with my legs crossed and partake of the evening. A nice transition back into the live music scene for a fancy man like myself.
As the band took the stage I was leaning against the balcony rail with a cup of coffee in my hand. I was not prepared for what happened next. The first notes of Custard Pie kicked in. My body exploded on me, I mean completely revolted against me and everything I thought I had retrained my brain to think. With one simple drum kick and strum of a guitar my entire body filled with goose pimples and my love for live music flooded every cell in my body instantly. I never could have predicted such an occurrence. I had a blast. All night I got to watch a bunch of guys having the times of their respective lives. Not just a group doing something for the money. Best of all was seeing a man that I admire most in this world keeping time from rear stage right (my left).
I went from supporting a friend to having a great time. That is usually what happens when I take the time and effort to step outside of myself and outside my limited view of the world. Now I am looking forward more than ever to going to see Primus with Matt in a couple weeks. Les Claypool is like a god to me. I could have ridden an elevator with him one time in Vegas. I backed out of the elevator and told him I would take the next one. I made it seem like I was doing him a courtesy, but actually I was afraid I would simply puke annoying fanboy praises at him for the entire ride. Primus is one of 3 or 4 bands that could actually get me out of the house on a dare.
Enough Les, back to Matt. I can’t even get over how amazing this clown is. After the show I take a look at my phone to check the time, because I’m old and need to get into a bed soon. I had a message from him asking if I was having fun. What the hell?! According to my calculations and the time stamp of the message, I’d say Matt should have been somewhere balls deep in The Wanton Song. Thinking back now it must have been the beginning of Ten Years Gone, and he took a second to say hello to me. I don’t know that I have ever felt more special as when is saw that message.