So, in 2001,
Hawksley Workman came and played at Bard College and he rocked it hard. His performance and his music made me a fan, and I have remained one ever since. Problem is that he never played in the states, or at least not south of Buffalo. So, last week when I just happened to think about looking and seeing where he was touring, I was was blown away to learn that he was playing in Philadelphia that very night. I agonized over the distance it would take to get me to the show, the fact that I would be going alone, the fact that I was pretty broke, and that in going to his show I would be missing the World Series. But, after countless back and forths in my own head, I decided to go. It was a very good idea.
Jenn Grant was the opening act, and she was truly good. She had a nice stage banter, and her songs are pretty, pretty, pretty; the girl can sing. I don't think I realized what a fan of Hawksley I had become until I realized that I could sing along with all but one of the songs he played during his set. This, coming from a girl who can barely remember the chorus to, well, anything. Seriously, the man can sing like some sort of crazy sexy beast. It was funny to think that the the only other time I had seen him I was 20 years old, maybe 19, and he was, hm, 24? So much living in between. I can really only speak for myself, of course.
I did gather my courage to tell him how great I thought that Bard show was, and that I put a certain song he wrote (Your Beauty Must Be Rubbing Off) on mixes constantly, especially for boys I liked...I remembered his encouraging us all to dance with people we had crushes on at that show and thinking what a great idea that was...oh it was a good show. He remembered that the show was just a few days after September 11th, which may explain why it is such a crystallized memory (that or because I was on acid...sorry mom). I even braved the 'can we take a picture' fan-dom, and it was worth it, even though I look a little crazy...he looks crazier! Sigh. This night made me realize that I can totally go to shows without a friend, and that, if I'm truly a fan, I will be able to come up to a musician and not make a complete ass of myself. Well, maybe I did make an ass out of myself, but it's not like he's going to tell anyone. My word, that is the only word you have to go by.
I did gather my courage to tell him how great I thought that Bard show was, and that I put a certain song he wrote (Your Beauty Must Be Rubbing Off) on mixes constantly, especially for boys I liked...I remembered his encouraging us all to dance with people we had crushes on at that show and thinking what a great idea that was...oh it was a good show. He remembered that the show was just a few days after September 11th, which may explain why it is such a crystallized memory (that or because I was on acid...sorry mom). I even braved the 'can we take a picture' fan-dom, and it was worth it, even though I look a little crazy...he looks crazier! Sigh. This night made me realize that I can totally go to shows without a friend, and that, if I'm truly a fan, I will be able to come up to a musician and not make a complete ass of myself. Well, maybe I did make an ass out of myself, but it's not like he's going to tell anyone. My word, that is the only word you have to go by.
3 comments:
awesome outfit, c, clinton and stacey can't see this!
thanks you kindly
i'll dismantle the blog and they'll never know
Wow. The only time I ever braved speaking to a musician was when somehow I found myself backstage in Atlanta after a Mothers of Invention show, or maybe just Frank Zappa with a band, in Zappa's dressing room. We had all dressed up as different vegetables, I was in a 1950s too tight red suit with crazy stiletto heels (a chile pepper don't ya know), just in case they sang Call Any Vegetables...they didn't but whatever. And I was transfixed by this hectoring "girl reporter" from an alternative rag wanting to know if the dental floss reference in the song was code for cocaine..Zappa rolled his eyes and said no, no, really it was dental floss. Then he asked me what was I, a reporter? I said no a chile pepper...to this day I am mortified that I had no wonderful thing to say...but he was cool. The whole deal was cool. Good for you for going and meeting and picture taking! We should all be bold when we are fans.
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