A while back, displaced Wisconsinite and dear friend Marnie offered me a ticket to go see Pearl Jam n' Death Cab for Cutie in Toledo on the Move-on tour. "Too busy," said I. As it turns out, not only was I too busy for Pearl Jam, I was also too busy for suprise guest Neil Young.
So I spent the early part of the week kind of bummed that I missed seeing Neil stomp around the stage like a five year old who forgot to take his ritalin.
I recovered, though, and especial thanks are due to Kelly Joe Phelps, who graced West Michigan with his presence last Sunday and Monday nights. Phelps' music is mandatory listening, and his live performance exceeds the highest of expectations. He's a blues/folk alchemist, spinning yarns of sinners n' saints into, well, you know. On the guit-box, he's peerless. His thumb makes those bottoms strings chug like Dock Boggs' Hellbound Train (or maybe like Curtis Mayfield's heaven-bound train. Whatever you're in the mood for...) while the rest of his fingers twist and turn the melody way past the harmonies normally permitted by yer standard I-IV-V progression. It's an intense performance, and his reading of Rev. Gary Davis' "Light of the World" never rang truer:
I got fiery fingers
I got fiery hands
When I get to heaven, I'm gonna play in a fiery band.
Anyways, seeing those shows made West Michigan a little easier to deal with. John Kerry's recent surge has put a rosy tint on the world as well. It was damn near inspiring to see him not even fazed by Bush's shithead cowboy belligerence last night. W. may have improved his performance, but Kerry's Van Damme disposition still gives me reason to hope the good guys will win the day.
So I spent the early part of the week kind of bummed that I missed seeing Neil stomp around the stage like a five year old who forgot to take his ritalin.
I recovered, though, and especial thanks are due to Kelly Joe Phelps, who graced West Michigan with his presence last Sunday and Monday nights. Phelps' music is mandatory listening, and his live performance exceeds the highest of expectations. He's a blues/folk alchemist, spinning yarns of sinners n' saints into, well, you know. On the guit-box, he's peerless. His thumb makes those bottoms strings chug like Dock Boggs' Hellbound Train (or maybe like Curtis Mayfield's heaven-bound train. Whatever you're in the mood for...) while the rest of his fingers twist and turn the melody way past the harmonies normally permitted by yer standard I-IV-V progression. It's an intense performance, and his reading of Rev. Gary Davis' "Light of the World" never rang truer:
I got fiery fingers
I got fiery hands
When I get to heaven, I'm gonna play in a fiery band.
Anyways, seeing those shows made West Michigan a little easier to deal with. John Kerry's recent surge has put a rosy tint on the world as well. It was damn near inspiring to see him not even fazed by Bush's shithead cowboy belligerence last night. W. may have improved his performance, but Kerry's Van Damme disposition still gives me reason to hope the good guys will win the day.
Kerry's giving me some hope, too.... I hope. I wish it were over! It's too nervewracking.
Posted by
Meredith |
11:23 AM