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The Touch and Go Records Anniversary two weekends ago in Chicago was amazing. It will stand as one of my top ten favorite musical events ever.
I flew in on Friday and spent most of the day running around the city doing all the big-city things I just don't get to do in Austin. By the time I got to my digs, I was feeling pretty peaked, but after a shower and an obscenely large dinner, I headed down to the show just in time to catch Ted Leo. By the time I got there, he was playing new material I'd never heard before, and I didn't have the energy to listen that closely. Instead, I gave into one of my obsessive behaviors: crowd-scanning. The pickings were especially good — I spotted, and was spotted by, people from all over the country and from almost every period of my life. !!!, the last band of the night, played a dead boring set that sent the audience running like the band had spewed a cloud of teargas. I joined the crowd, went home, and rested up for Saturday.
I showed up on Saturday just in time to catch the last half of Pegboy's set, which I heard was brilliant. Mel from Austin said she felt like she was 16 again, a common theme of the weekend. She noted that the crowd's excitement was so palpable, it vibrated.
Afterwards, I grabbed some food, then worked my way to the front of the crowd to see the Ex, whom I enjoyed immensely. I could watch Kat drum all day — she has a wonderful, loose style, and there was a huge smile on her face the whole time. They didn't play my all-time favorite, "Gonna Rob the Sperm Bank," but they still made me a bit teary once or twice, because they were just that good. I saw a lot of people with similar reactions that weekend.
For many, the standout band of the weekend was the reunited Didjits, who were joined by the Gaza Strippers' Mark Allen on backup vocals. I could barely move among the six or seven thousand people packed in to see them, but I squeezed my way in, careful not to spill my beer. They blew us away with a tight, energetic set, including favorites like "Max Wedge" and "Who's Ready To Get High?"
The Didjits |
Says Doug Didjits: "It was a trip. It was a lot of fun, that's the best thing I can say. I was really surprised at how excited people were to see us. The whole place was just going crazy. That was cool, and I totally didn't expect that." It was good to see a kick-ass, chronically underrated band get some love.
Next up was a soul-scorching, far-too-short set from Scratch Acid. David Yow was completely in his element, and put on the best show I've seen from him in fifteen years of fangirldom. Scratch Acid! I'm still bitter that friends of mine caught their sold-out show in Austin without thinking about picking up a ticket for me, but the healing process has begun.
The biggest disappointment of the weekend was Big Black, the band that many people were most excited to see. Unlike most of the bands that had reformed for the festival, they seemed to be phoning it in. They played favorites like "Dead Billy" and "Pigeon Kill," but didn't show a whole lot of enthusiasm.
By the time Shellac came onstage, I was musically overloaded and sore from eight solid hours of standing and doing that funny little vertical hoppy dance that one does while standing in a tightly-packed crowd. I got a beer from one of the selfless, frantic volunteers manning the drinks line, and sat down to discuss the day with some fellow Texans.
Poor Drew talked about missing Scratch Acid the first time around because he was only 13 and his dad wouldn't give him permission to go. He also gushed about Killdozer: "They're a band that I've loved for years but never got to see. With them, it wasn't so much the age thing — it seemed like there was some higher force steering me to book shows with my own band on nights when they played Houston. Kinda weird. As far as highlights go, when they played a few bars of 'La Grange' by ZZ Top and then broke into 'King of Sex'...that was definitely a standout moment for me."
My evening degenerated into debauchery after that, and I was grateful to take refuge on my friend's sister-in-law's futon and spend some quality time cuddling with their pit bull, Inez. In the morning, we set off in search of breakfast and then headed back down to the show. Most of Sunday's more sedate lineup was populated by various permutations of Three Mile Pilot, to greater or lesser effect. It was a rainy, cold day, and this Texan wasn't dressed properly for the weather. Most of the music provided a pleasant background for huddling together and chit-chatting with groups of friends, but except for Armistead Burwell Smith's always-lovely bass playing, there weren't a whole lot of stand-outs for me. I left before the sun went down, ate a huge burrito, and fell into a food coma.
I went to Chicago on a whim, really, but I'm so glad that I made it out there. So many variables go into a really great show by one band, much less thirty. The event ran so smoothly, the choice of bands was perfect, and the energy was contagious. All too often, when I go out to see bands, I see far more good hair than I see enthusiasm, and that makes me grumpy. This weekend reminded me why music has been one of the great loves of my life for the past twenty years.
I arrived home very sore and slightly hung over — but mostly, I came away from the weekend feeling inspired.
So, what's next???
Posted September 2006
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