Between The Rock And A Hard Place: Newfoundland, Great Big Sea, Alan Doyle, And Even Russell Crowe

"In The Middle Of It All"

Starting off with two new links for Alan's singalongs at the second St. John's show:

Singalong With Alan - second St. John's show, third enthusiastic boat ride

Singalong With Alan - second St. John's show, you can't keep a good boat down (thanks again, Lisa)

I have another clip of the singalongs from the third show, and this time I did get Sean in the picture too, even Bob a bit. But this is me, and the star of all my video productions is always going to be Alan, who even did a bit of Sonny's Dream, along with the usual suspects, tonight. I've also got a video of Murray's bass solo in Sweet Forget Me Not and Bob's whistle part/Alan's guitar intro in Tishialuk/Billy Peddle. None of this is going to get uploaded until after I get to Halifax, though, and by then I am going to be completely and thoroughly (and delightedly) distracted by Juno Cup Hockey and the Songwriters' Circle, so it may take even longer than that, same with photos. (But if someone would like to re-upload Walk On The Moon and send me the link, I'd be very grateful, since I keep getting requests for that one to be put up again, as well as both the Vancouver and Halifax Old Brown's Daughter versions.)

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Now for the shows...

About 10 minutes before we came out, I decided that we were going to be awesome tonight. - Alan, beginning of the third St. John's show

He was. They were. So much so, I've been reduced to communicating in two-word sentences.

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The original post-show plan was to take advantage of Christina's finally being off call, and also the utter pointlessness of going to bed when we have to be at the airport for a 5:25 am flight - we were going to stop by the Duke before coming back to get packed up and ready to head off to the Junos. Last-minute changes turned that plan on its head, though, probably a good thing in the long run; unlike the effect it has on some others, Guinness does not make me articulate, just the opposite - all it does is short-circuit my impulse control, and that's not likely to lead to effective actions of the verbal sort. So we did not indulge at the Duke, and here I am, dutifully (and I hope coherently) writing about how awesome he (and they) were at the third and final St. John's show.

I feel diligent. I feel almost virtuous. I still want my Guinness at the Duke, but I'm a patient sort of person; all things come in their proper time and proper place.

Three shows at home, three shows at home in the middle of a tour - as Alan said, "It's kind of like being on a road trip at home". It's off to the Junos in the morning, then a bit of a break, and then it all starts up again with the third tour leg. None of it can be easy, no matter how much they make all of it look that way. Singing so many of the songs that the people in these audiences grew up singing themselves, putting on shows in the restrained (constrained) atmosphere of the ACC, and doing it all with one foot in their own doorway and the other foot on a tour-bus step, caught between the coming and the going...it may be a very long way from St. John's to Tucson, but the distance is equally great from Tucson to St. John's.

Three shows, each with almost an identical set list (they dropped Shines Right Through as the set opener - moving WIAK up into that spot - and added Beat The Drum for the second show, and I think that was the only change), quite a few similarities in the crowds as well. The ACC is one of those "subdued atmosphere" venues, and home crowds by and large don't indulge in some of the usual antics that take place at away GBS shows. It might be harsh to say that a good number of those at home shows tend to take GBS for granted, but if it were harsh, it would only be a bit harsh. Maybe better to say that it's more like family interactions: Our families might love us and support us, but they're not about to go getting themselves all worked up being excited to see us, and even if one or two of them did act that way, the rest would treat the excited ones like proper fools for doing it.

Merch is a good example. There was poor, lonely Glenn at the merch table, next to nothing to do all three nights. Hardly anyone buys/wears GBS merch to the home shows; I had to promise Christina I'd cover up my Hard & The Easy shirt with a sweatshirt before she'd go out to dinner with me before the show. She was kind of kidding about that, but only kind of. God forbid you get caught acting like you're the fan of someone who's family.

It all makes perfect sense, but it also has to make for a tough show from the performers' point of view. Everyone there can love who you are and what you're playing, but hardly anyone wants to show that love too much, for fear of looking silly in the eyes of the others. It gets even tougher when you add in the fact that the performers are standing there in front of not only honest-to-goodness family members, but also the people they run into day-to-day at the bank, the grocery store, the dentist's office, the gym, and on a casual stroll along the street (St. John's is a very small town, in ways that go beyond population count), and just about everyone there is expecting them to be entertainers, at the same time they are expecting them to be themselves.

No wonder they get so nervous about home shows.

As a general rule, crowds at "add on" shows tend to be the most lackluster of all, since they usually contain so many folks who were undecided enough about whether to come at all for them not to wind up with tickets for whatever shows were originally scheduled. The first two crowds, those who did buy tickets for the shows that were originally scheduled, had not exactly blown the roof off with their enthusiasm, though both of those crowds had eventually been won over to the "this show is something you do, not something you watch" notion (as one audience member would say the next day, "My arms are gone from clapping"). But getting to that point had taken hard work, skillful handling, and an abundance of irrefuseable charm. Standing at the top of the ACC stairs and watching people come in for this third show that had been added some time after the first two sold out, I wondered how Alan was going to handle this challenge. It never even crossed my mind to think "if"; the only question was "how".

When Alan walked out onto the stage and made that statement about how they were going to be awesome this night, he was issuing a challenge to everyone in the ACC, on stage and off stage, himself included. I said a few posts back that I am going to stop underestimating Alan Doyle's balls, and I meant it. When he made this statement, as bold and cocky as it was, I had not a wisp of doubt that it would come true, that he would make it come true by sheer force of will and intensity of desire, make it come true for everyone in the ACC, on stage and off stage, himself included, by persuading all who were there into wanting it to be true as much as he wanted it to be true. And damned if he didn't make it happen, damned if he didn't convince each person there to play their own part to make it happen.

Damned if I didn't hear the fellow behind me on the way out say it: "They were awesome tonight, weren't they?"

Yes, they were. Yes, he was.

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And now, time for Juno Cup hockey and the Songwriters' Circle. The Glorious Goalie and the Master Songwriter. This is going to be so good. 

"Close Your Eyes And Dream"

This first video clip is absolutely, completely priceless, filled to overflowing with the sweetest and the sexiest showmanship from the sweetest and sexiest Showman of all. If ever anyone wanted to know where my heart has gone and why, all they would have to do is watch this clip. This is all of the pre-RRA singalongs from last night, I Fought The Law, Jesse's Girl, Summer of '69, and just about the deadliest Phantom to be heard in any theatre. My sincere apologies up front for not panning over to Sean, especially during Jesse's Girl, but I could not possibly look away from the pounding that guitar was getting. Next time, I promise to get Sean into the picture, because his dancing and whistle-conducting needs to be seen too.

A big clip again, 180 MB, and it will take a long time to download, but it will be so worth the time and the effort. When it comes to boats, my decided preference is for the swift and sure small boat that is always at the ready for yet another pleasure jaunt; but when it comes to video clips, it really is true that size does matter. Note for those who like Alan as big as possible: If you have Quicktime Pro, you can see these full screen.

(Note: This clip is so absolutely and completely priceless that the first link is already used up. But not spent, not a bit spent yet. Like that enthusiastic little boat, it is already up for another ride, and here is a fresh link, thanks to Lisa:

Alan's RRA singalongs, second excursion around the bay

I'm already taking my turn at working on getting it up for the third time. - gotta love teamwork and sharing)

And I did manage to get his ECMA version of Raewyn uploaded again. Thanks to Kohaku, who was kind enough also to re-upload Raewyn for me, there are now two links for this one:

Alan's Raewyn - ECMA Songwriters' Circle, 2006

Alan's Raewyn - ECMA Songwriters' Circle - 2006

Huge thanks to Kohaku for doing this (and for sending me the link so I could re-post it here), and to Lisa for her re-uploading generosity too. It's hard to keep these links fresh (now I hear that Danny Boy needs to be gotten up again...too bad he's not a bit more like those enthusiastic small boats that are always raring to go on another quick spin around the bay) and the help is very much appreciated. I'm currently working on getting the Murray Version of Old Brown's Daughter uploaded again, and I think I'll also re-upload the one I got in Vancouver, which was done from the other side. This way, if I put them both up, the folks who are sitting in the first two rows of the ACC for these shows will be able to see what the song looks like from the front side. Though I am still not  complaning one bit about having the chance to share "Kris's Show View" for a few moments.

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I'm still not "officially" writing about the St. John's shows, not yet, still trying to stick to the original plan of waiting and watching and listening at all three shows to get the fullest impression possible of what it is all like and how the people both on stage and off stage act and react at these home shows. Trouble is, I forgot to factor my own reactions into that equation; it's not like I'm any kind of objective, disinterested observer. I look up on that stage and see men who are glad to be home but still having to work, knowing that those men have to be even more aware of all the further work that lies ahead, and all I want is for everyone in that theatre to give them a standing ovation, to bring the house down with cheering and applause, all for acknowledging how much those on stage are still giving and how hard they are still working to give this audience the show they are presently enjoying.

And, of course, the people in that audience do cheer, they do applaud, and on occasion they even stand (when Alan asks, "Could you stand for me?", some might be able to resist that request, but I will never be able to do other than what he asks), as much standing as one could expect from a home crowd in the ACC, but because those men on stage are so skilled at making it all look effortless - because they are so good at creating that atmosphere of celebratory fun and carefree delight - the hard work and the persistent weariness and the determined resolve that lay at the foundation of the performance are not readily visible beneath the charming smiles and the silly jokes and, most of all, the music that stirs and touches.

All of it is there to see - weariness, resolve, delight, celebration - for those who choose to look closely enough to see it, or not, for those who choose instead to see the parts of it that give them the greatest pleasure and enjoyment. And it's not like those parts aren't equally as true as are the other parts; all of it is true, simple truths and complex truths, wonderful and terrible and terribly wonderful all at the same time. More and more, their shows are becoming a metaphor for their home, even those shows that take place in their home. More and more, when I look up into Alan's face and see the complicated beauty of that mixture of worry, passion, pleasure, weariness, pride, need, and stubbornness, I feel as if I am looking up into a face that is a map of Newfoundland herself. It is a face that is an honest ambassador for the complicated truth of that place, a place I have come to love.

To be an ambassador for the truth of your home, even when you are at that home - that is quite an accomplishment, one that merits pride and a sense of "job well done". And if you can also be so wonderfully sweet and sexy in the bargain, well, it's hard to imagine it getting much better than that. Hard, but not impossible; I do have an excellent imagination, and there is still the matter of those speedy and sure small boats making those repeatedly delightful swift runs, though I am still wondering where is it that the green boat fits in the framework of this particular analogy. Perhaps part of a St. Patty's day celebratory ritual, or series thereof.

This - all of it, the serious and the sweet and the silly and the sexy - is what I spent a good chunk of the early morning hours thinking about, sitting by the window, sipping tea, more than a bit bedazzled by the moonlight shimmering on that mountain of snow in the backyard, waiting for that absolutely, completely priceless video clip to upload. When I finally gave up on the video clip and drifted off to sleep while it still laboured on in mid-upload, these same thoughts took up persistence residence in my dreams. This is my non-objective, non-disinterested personal reaction to the second show at the ACC, though I will come back with a bit more factual information later, after the third show. I'll write it while staying up to catch that godawful early flight to Halifax. But I'll be back much sooner than that to edit in a few photos from this show - I finally got the perfect shot of the climactic moment of The Mermaid.

Editing In Photos: I will eventually make up a photo album for this show, for the other shows I take pictures at too, but for now, just a few (though it is hard to choose just a few) from this one.

"And the bottom part was...A GIRL!"

A fish-loving man.

A serious musician, and, as Alan never fails to point out, the sexiest bodhran player to be found anywhere at all.

The best pair of performers to be found anywhere at all.

 

A St. John's man and a St. John's fiddle.

A map of the Rock, one sure to lead you safely home.

That wound up being a few more shots of the Newfoundland road map than I'd intended, but I have always had a special fondness for maps, which I suppose is a common enough characteristic of those of us who love to travel to - and maybe even to begin to understand, as well as to love - the wonderful places we see on those maps.

"Half An Hour Of Sunshine"

I'm editing in two links for a video clip of Alan's pre-RRA singalong rendition of Phantom Of The Opera from last night's ACC show. Same clip both times, just getting ahead of the whole re-uploading issue by posting two links instead of one. It's a MOV file, but not too big this time, about 40 MB. And it is very cute, which kind of goes without saying, given the performer.

Alan's Phantom Of The Opera - First St. John's Show, 2006

Alan's Phantom Of The Opera - First St. John's Show, 2006, second link

I'm working on getting his ECMA Raewyn uploaded again, but that's a big one and it's giving me trouble, so it may take awhile.

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Yes, I know I said I would wait until all three St. John's shows had been played before taking a shot at writing about them. But I also said I wouldn't take photos, and that resolve lasted only through the first set. When the second set started, there was That Man with That Guitar, and there went my resolve, off to the same place my resolve always disappears whenever That Man and That Guitar come into sight. At least I am consistent, reliable even.

I won't go into detail yet, I'll just say that they did very well tonight at the first ACC show. Yes, they all still look tired, Alan most of all, and no, it was not the most lively of home crowds, though they did inspire Christina's mom to pound on the stage at one point, quite a testimony to their performance skills. They all worked hard to put on a show they can be proud of, and no one up there worked harder than Alan did. Watching him tonight, seeing the skill and craft and determination that was the foundation of a performance that was coming across as being so effortless and spontaneous and utterly charming - and through it all having some small inkling of just how exhausted he has to be and how much more he still has ahead of him - all I could think was that I am never going to see anyone else come close to accomplishing what this one man accomplishes on all of his stages. He amazed me yet again on this night, and if that's still happening after having been amazed by him on so many other nights, I think it's safe to say that the amazement is never going to cease.

That's enough for tonight, except maybe just one or two more comments. First and foremost, I'll once again cast my vote - and cast it with great enthusiasm - for those wonderfully swift, gloriously frequent, boat rides. I'll also add that I think Kris has the best view in the house during shows. Those of us in the ACC's front rows got a lovely example of that best view during tonight's show-closing Old Brown's Daughter - a unalloyed pleasure for me, to be sure, but I still wish some of the other folks in the front rows would have been included in being able to see the facial expressions they all get during this song, as well as Alan's crowd-commanding hand gestures.

Talk about Best Seats.

Ah, yes, one final comment: Sean is so frigging cute when singing The Mermaid that it is next to impossible to give much of a shit where the song came from.

"With Life To Live Over"

If it's alright with those who sent the "glad you made it safely and hope you got some sleep" messages, I'm going to answer them all here in a new post, instead of each one in Comments on the last two posts. Thank you to everyone thoughtful enough to make those comments. I seem to be spending an inordinate amount of time these days puzzling over why it is that some people are so much kinder than I could have ever expected them to be, while there are those others whose lack of kindness gives at least as much, if not more, cause for pondering the whys and wherefores.

I did put my "St. John's bed" to good use - only very recently (and reluctantly) crawling out of its warmth - and I too am glad to have gotten here in a safe and comparatively timely manner, even if I had not planned on spending 18 hours in the Ferry Terminal. I certainly did not plan on that 5:45 am flight from Sydney to Halifax in that tiny plane, 16 passengers filling it up, each of us with an aisle seat, and each of us with a window seat as well. I think it wound up being rather a bumpy ride; at least it started out bumpy enough, and that was when I decided the next 45 minutes weren't the kind of minutes best spent awake and aware, so I chose to sleep for the duration, the Cat Method of dealing with any unpleasant reality by out-sleeping it.

After the startling wake-up call of a Big Bump landing, I looked around blearily and the fellow sitting across from me (as in about a foot across from me) asked me, "Did you really sleep through all of that?" in a disbelieving tone. What can I say? These past few years, I have learned how to tolerate a rough ride. It's all a matter of staying focused on destination instead of route, and of being able to sleep when things get at their worst. Survival skills.

But even the strongest survival skills start to wear thin when you get weary past a point, and the most determined resolve begins to fray. I did not do so well on the flight from Halifax to St. John's, which wound up being much less smooth in its own way than was that bumpy ride down from Sydney. But when the ride gets too rough to be quite so easily tolerated, too jarring to allow for even a cat-nap as a temporary respite from the turbulence, that's when the memory of all the thoughtfulness that went before, as well as of the warm-bed generosity that is to come, is enough to make it alright. As well as that continued focus on destination.

Three shows in a row to come here in St. John's, all in the intimate confines of the Arts & Culture Centre. For me, this is going to be fascinating. Each night we are bringing different members of Christina's family, for what I am guessing will be their closest-ever show experience with GBS, or at least since when a few of them used to go with the MUN crowd to hear that fun local band play at Jungle Jim's way back in the early '90s. And the rest of the crowd will be equally as fascinating, as well as enlightening. The crowd that comes to GBS home shows is a different kettle of fish from the crowds they encounter out along all those bumpy roads away from home, which makes the men that home crowd has come to see also different in their own turn.

There is an entire world to be discovered in those differences, a world that inspires my continuing curiousity and stirs my creative impulses. More than that, it's a world that has quite a hold on my heart, especially when it comes to some of those who are to be found in that world.

But there is a fair share of worry and concern about these shows too. Home shows are something special, unique unto themselves, filled with their own set of stresses and challenges, and the one thing I wish with these shows is that there were more of a rest coming both before and after them, or at least more of a rest for Alan. No hope for much of a rest before the shows, and now, with the addition of that third show on the 30th, even less of a rest after. He will be flying back to Halifax the morning after having played three consecutive home shows (and that done after coming back home already weary from this past gruelling tour leg) to play in the Juno Cup that same evening. Then there is his hosting of the Junos Songwriters' Circle on Sunday, not to mention such other incidentals as being nominated for a Juno and presenting a Juno (along with Bob, I believe) at the awards show.

As far as getting a bit of a break, it looks like that would be today, and only today. I hope he has the chance to make the most of it.

Note about the ACC shows: Even if photography winds up being allowed at any or all of these three shows, I'm not planning on taking any photos, though if they do something unique on stage (or wind up being joined there by anyone else), I may record it or take some shots if I'm permitted. With show photos in general, I really don't want to run the risk of doing anything that might add to the stress. And I think I will wait until all three shows are done before even taking a shot at writing about them. That's at least what I'm planning on - we'll see how things wind up going.

"Not As Easy As It Seems"

Two quotes caught my attention today. The first was from Alan's latest FTR entry:

We had two completely different crowds in one room in Sydney. We had a great crowd of listeners who wanted to sit and enjoy a quiet theatre show, and another group of excited partiers who wanted us to blow their Saturday night minds. We were happy to have them both, but I got the impression each of them wished the other would go home.

It took me paragraphs and paragraphs to write about the Sydney show. I admire the writer who finds such a succinct way to say his piece. His "I got the impression that each of them wished the other would go home" phrase is absolutely perfect, both as description and as expression.

The other quote is more simple, more direct, and it came at a time when it was most needed:

I know you're tired. I'll pick you up at the airport, and your bed is waiting for you.

I have a bed of my own in St. John's. Now that is cool, as well as much appreciated. Much needed too.

I still can't quite get over how nice everyone was to me at the Ferry Terminal and on the Smallwood. Again, it came at a time when it was most needed. Being on the receiving end of so much generosity and kindness is a little like eating a hearty home-cooked meal; it keeps you going during the lean times that will most assuredly come after. It also reminds you how important it is to take your own turn on the giving end of that same generosity and kindness, to do what you can to help someone else the same way you have been helped yourself. It's not like there aren't others who are travelling roads far rougher than my own who might have an even greater need for a bit of patience and a bit more understanding.

Still not as skillfully succinct as he would be, but getting there. Now I am going to go make good use of my St. John's bed.

"The Prettiest Boat That You've Ever Seen"

Again, first things first. A few re-uploads, thanks again to Lisa.

Old Brown's Daughter - Murray Version, Halifax 2006 (re-post, full size)

And for those on dialup, here are smaller versions of OBD and Danny Boy. Sound and picture not as good as in the big MOV files, but a little easier to download:

Old Brown's Daughter - Murray Version, small size (AVI file)

Sean's St. Pat's Day Danny Boy - small size (AVI file)

More of those best-laid plans for me, I fear. It is nearly 2 am here in North Sydney...yes, I am still in North Sydney, which is definitely a problem. It seems there is a storm off the SW coast of Newfoundland, and the ferry is not going anywhere until the winds decrease. It might be Monday afternoon or even later before the boat sets sail. I've now been here at the terminal for 14 or so hours, with a little over three more to go. That's when my cab comes, the cab that's taking me to the Sydney airport for a flight to Halifax, and, if I can slip in ahead of the predicted blizzard that is scheduled in around noon, into St. John's.

The folks here have been great. Of course, I've now been underfoot long enough to be able to work here by now. I have been here nearly as long as I've lived some places, or at least it feels that way. All the comforts of home...shower, Diet Cokes and chips from the vending machine, and a kick-ass wireless connection. It's not so bad.

But I am wondering if some other travelllers to St. John's will be able to get in ahead of that incoming blizzard.

"And It's Go, Boys, Go"

First things first, here are two more uploads of Sean's St. Pat's Day "Danny Boy" at the Carlu in TO, and thanks to Lisa for uploading one of them:

Danny Boy 1

Danny Boy 2

I'm working on Old Brown's Daughter - The "Murray Version" from the second Halifax show. If it uploads before I'm done here and have to go catch my bus to the ferry, I'll edit it in. Otherwise, it may not get posted until I get to St. John's in a few days.

ETA: Just enough time to add this in. Here is Old Brown's Daughter, from crowd shushing to last lovely views leaving the stage, this one from the left side (watch it and you will see why it is called the "Murray Version"), from the first Halifax show at the Rebecca Cohn Auditorium.

Old Brown's Daughter, Murray Version - Halifax, first show, 2006

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Alright, now for Sydney.

It's probably a good thing I had to take that long, cold, dark, meandering walk back from the Membertou Convention Centre (which is apparently located in Sydney's ass end of nowhere, or that's at least how it felt while wandering through the proverbial Black Hole Of Calcutta trying to get there from the highway, and back again); it gave me the time I needed if I were going to cool down a bit. I know that as I walked out the door at show's end I was more than ready to say my piece about what went on at this show, and if my hotel had been adjacent to the venue, I have no doubt what would have been the first word I'd have typed...

Assholes

But it was a long, cold, dark, meandering walk back, and I did cool down a bit; more important, I started to see things with just the tiniest amount of perspective. That walk gave me time to remember that I know better than to think that one pack of fools at a show is a fair reflection of a town, and also better than to think that the pack of fools is even a fair reflection of all the rest of the people at that same show who really did come to hear the music.

Once I got to that point, which was about halfway back from the ass end of nowhere to my hotel, the next step was easy: Instead of being furious about seeing a kid in wheelchair nearly being knocked over, or about being groped and mauled when trying to help move some of the drunken louts back away from pressing in on that kid, I thought about what it must be like being on stage and having to keep your show going in that kind of atmosphere. Even worse, what it must be like to be so tired that you're ready to drop, and having to find a way to keep your show going in spite of that kind of atmosphere.

Half the reason why I got so angry that I came close to turning around and decking one or more of those jerks is because I'm tired enough to drop myself, and I haven't even been to all of their shows, and even what I have done is only as an audience member. I'm to the point with being tired where I have little or no defence left against much of anything that others do - the slightest coldness wounds me to the quick, the smallest cruelty makes me angry enough to...well, angry enough to want to deck the perpetrator, especially when the victim is a handicapped kid. To be far more weary than that and to have to not only watch some people in your audience act like such unmitigated twits but also to have to find a way to keep it all from getting worse while you keep your show on the rails - that has to be quite the challenge.

By the time I made it back to my room, I was thinking more about the men who have to face and deal with such challenges than about the idiots who create the challenges. Also that this Theatre Tour is making a softie out of me. On the GBS-Show Asshole Spectrum (which runs from 1 to 10), this show was really only about a 5 or so. It had the potential to become a 6, maybe even a 7, if it had not been for security wisely deciding to crack down and force people out of the aisles and back into their seats when things started to get out of hand (first time on this tour Alan has had to resort to his plea that the "little people" be looked after) - as well as the venue deciding to close the bar partway into the second set, another excellent call - but compared to some of what I've been in the midst of in the past at GBS shows, this was small potatoes (too bad I couldn't use that description in relation to a Charlottetown show), though I'm still feeling the stray urge to mash a few of those potato-heads.

One thing I have most certainly not missed on this tour are the inebriated (and sometimes the simply selfish among the stone-cold sober) fools who define "celebration" as an oblivious and thoughtless crashing about at the expense of,and risk of harm to, anyone - children, elderly folks, small women, handicapped people, you name it - who happens to get in their way. That is not how a kitchen party works; that kind of behaviour would be a disgrace at any kitchen party. There may be other issues that come into play with reserved-seat shows, some of them genuinely troubling issues, especially when the best of those reserved-seats are limited to those who frequent an online official fan site (it has taken me a while to find the Newfoundlanders at these shows, but I finally did - I''m finding many of them are some ways back, since quite a few of them are not likely to take part in GBS-fan web sites...if what you want up front are "loyal fans" defined as the kind of people who take part in online fan communities, then that means those who are not that kind of fan are going to be pushed back a ways), but at least what has happened for most of these shows is that many who would get cheated out of being able to enjoy a show because of the bad behaviour of those thoughtless and oblivious folks who tend to take over at many GA shows are now getting the full experience of how wonderful this band can be live. Most shows, at least.

Thanks to the security people, thanks to the bar people, and most of all, thanks to Alan (thanks as well to Sean, whose continuing good cheer throughout this bumpy show was, I suspect, quite a welcome support to the fellow on his right..Sean also gets credit yet again for being responsible for the sweetest moment of the night, when he helped a little boy up on stage to dance during Lukey - I have wonderful shots of that, but I still worry about putting a child's photo online without parental permission,so you'll have to use your imaginations to have an idea of how sweet that sight was) the majority of those who wanted to be able to enjoy the show without encroaching on someone else's desire to enjoy that same show got what they wanted. I could see Alan watching what was going on all around the venue, assessing the crowd, making the decisions that would keep the set going at a swift enough clip to keep things from spiralling out of control. There were no pre-Run, Runaway singalongs this night, and that was the wise call of a very experienced (very experience-with-assholes, sad to say) front man; they also switched from the living-room version of SoNC to the radio-CD version, another excellent decision.

There was next to no stage conversation (have I ever mentioned that I really detest the word "banter"?), especially in the second set. Alan talked a bit early on about how long it had been since they had played Sydney (and now I know some potential reasons why it has been such a long time between shows), and "complimented" the new Membertou venue by saying that he felt like he was at the prom (big room, folding chairs all in rows, bad sound...yeah, it did feel kind of like a prom, one with a hell of a spiked punch bowl); they did some of the regular song intros in the first set (when the crowd was quite restrained, reluctant even to stand much at all, all the way up to the set-ending Lukey), before the worst of the bad behaviour started, though that would change in the second set.

Not to say that the first set saw no jerkdom of its own. In what was a harbinger of rudeness to come, there was the matter of photography, how some in the crowd chose to handle that matter, and, best of all, how Alan chose to handle their choice. It made for a priceless moment in the first set, a moment that would have made the trip to Sydney worth it to me all by itself. Some people were being remarkably obnoxious about photography, getting up out of their seats, coming all the way up to the open space in front of the stage, and standing right in front of the band members (as in a few feet away), taking all the time in the world to set up their shots, and then taking pictures, just flashing away in the faces fo those on stage (usually in Alan's face) as they tried to talk and sing, as well as blocking the view of the folks sitting in the front rows in so doing. It was distracting enough that Alan completely lost his place in Charlie Horse at one point, and he said, with clear sarcasm, "Thank you - I hope you enjoyed that" before resuming the song. At that moment, he reminded me of Russell, and that was a good memory.

You'd think his reaction would have deterred others from coming up and doing more of the same, but you'd have thought wrong; they kept coming up, they kept flashing, and the irritation level of those on stage kept going up. Then Alan did something that made me want to hug him, high five him, pat him on the back, congratulate him, and most of all to tell him that he is simply wonderful. Alan channelled Russell Crowe for real, and he was magnificent. No, more accurate to say that he was Alan Doyle, not The Great Big Sea Guy, and Alan Doyle was magnficent.

During the recent Australian tour of TOFOG, the band of Russell's that Alan is also a member of, whenever would-be photographers would start to piss Russell off, what he would do was create a sarcastic "photo opportunity" where he would call all of the band members front and centre and then they would pose with the most sincerely insincere smiles they could muster plastered across their faces...those who were insistent on getting photos were invited to shoot away for a moment or two to satisfy the urge to photograph, and then to "put your fucking cameras away". Some would see the blatantly artificial smiles on the faces of the band members and realise the cutting-edge of the moment, and that would be all it took to get the message across as they sheepishly tucked their cameras away. Others would shoot away with abandon, blissfully clueless.

It was one of several tactics I saw Russell use for jerk-control that led to my thorough admiration of how he handles himself on stage (my absolute favourite was when he looked down at a persistent heckler at his feet and said, "Why don't you shut the fuck up? You're interfering with other people's enjoyment."), and I came back from Australia hoping that, as much as Russell had learned about performing from Alan, Alan might have in turn learned a thing or two from Russell as well. But I never expected Alan to do the Group Photo Opportunity routine at a GBS show, never had hope enough that he'd have the balls to do that one. One of these days, I will learn not to underestimate Alan Doyle's balls.

Sure enough, right before they went into Gideon Brown, Alan mentions that while it's fine if people want to take photos from their seats, the coming up front and taking shots in their faces is a distraction. "So what we're going to do is all five of us will come up front together and I'll invite all of you up to take a photo now." And damned if he didn't do it, call all of the rest of them up to the edge of the stage, all of them standing there with fake cheesy grins and the sardonic smirks. Double damned if dozens of the stunned didn't charge down the aisles to the front to shoot madly away. And this time, I did take my own set of photos of the photo-takers...I still regret not capturing the absolutely delightful irony of any of those TOFOG Group Photo Opportunities. I've got one shot from this show where the look Alan has on his face is beyond priceless, and it is as clear to read as is the most well-written story from the pen of any great author...he looks so proud of himself for what he has just done, and he looks like he is remembering the man who taught him this tactic. I know I was as proud as I could be of him for what he had just done, and I was sure remembering that same man.

GBS Group Photo Opportunity - The Other Sydney

 

 

Alan Doyle out-Russells Russell.

From that moment on, not a single soul ventured down front to take photos. There would be other foolishness that needed to be contended with, to be sure, and Alan would do what needed to be done in that respect, do it all with skill and poise enough to engender pride in his accomplishments for that too. But it was that "Other Sydney" Group Photo Opportunity that made me the most proud of him. And it made me miss Russell and the other TOFOG fellows the most too.

A few other set list changes in response to crowd mood: There was no a capella Old Brown's Daughter this night, quite understandably so (it is a shame that those who would have been able to appreciate it missed out on it, but given the predominant mood of the ones still pressing to get up front, to do it would have run the "pearls before swine" risk), and for the first time in a few shows, Old Black Rum made a reappearance. If ever there were a crowd perfectly suited to getting Old Black Rum as a show-closer, this was that crowd. And then the stage was empty in a blink, their exit was so swift, leaving behind what felt distinctly like a collective sigh of relief that they had gotten through this one.

On to Saint John. For them, at least. As for me, I have a ferry to catch and a new road to travel. I have a tropical island as my destination, parts of which I'll be seeing for the first time, and other parts to which I'll be gladly returning. I have found that it is a very good place to go when you're feeling tired enough to drop.

One final note: Way to go, Fog Devils!

 

"Fast As I Can"

I did say I was working on uploading some files last night, along with writing a few alternate endings to Alan's last FTR. Both attempts had successful outcomes, though I think I'll limit the sharing here to the video uploads. 

Here are two of those files:

Sean's "Danny Boy" at the Carlu, St. Pat's Day, 2006   (Sorry, I missed recording the first verse because I was too lost in enjoying his performance) 80 MB, .mov file

Alan's "Walk On The Moon", ECMA Songwriters' Circle, 2006 (I'll keep re-uploading and re-posting this one as long as people keep asking for it) 182 MB, .mov file

I got a gorgeous Old Brown's Daughter at the first Halifax show, this one from the left side where Murray can be clearly seen and heard. Next hotel with high speed (which I think is tonight in Sydney), I will try to get both OBD's uploaded, one from each side, and post those too, maybe even the "Farewell To Nova Scotia" clip from the second Halifax show. And I will put the rest of Alan's SC songs back up too, as soon as there is time and high-speed to cooperate, maybe when I get to  St. John's. One of these days, I'll get some real web space and bandwidth allotment and put all of these up online in one permanent place.

But not today. Today is Sydney.

"One Thing I Know, I'd Stage My Own Show"

I hope Lisa and Christina don't mind my doing this, but a few of the comments they made about the "Something (Really) Beautiful" post got me to thinking hard (and thinking easy), so I'm going to re-post them here and go from there. The topic under discussion is our response (individual and group) to Alan's most recent FTR:

Sorry, Christina. I'm with Lynda on this one. I'd rather my neurons were firing due to the memory of, rather than the fantasy of, being there. :) And Lynda, direction and focus are a very good thing.

Posted by: Lisa | 24 March 2006 at 07:09 AM

Lisa, I completely agree. One of my professors once told us that 90% of the medical literature is bullshit. Somehow I don't think he ever meant that in the context of fantasizing about Alan Doyle, but I think it applies. :-) I would rather have been there too. Pity we weren't all there- that could have fixed the temperature problem.

Posted by: Christina | 24 March 2006 at 04:19 PM

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If the topic under discussion is to be fantasizing about Alan, I'm more than willing to take part, especially since I'm spending a quiet evening here in the hotel in Halifax, my first evening in a while not spent sitting in a crowded venue or dozing on a moving bus.

I've been getting some work done, and also getting some files uploaded on the hotel's high-speed connection, but I keep finding myself distracted, my mind wandering. My eyes have wandering too, as well as my fingers...I just got back from re-reading Alan's latest, loveliest FTR (for the umpteenth time), and I am finding that Alan's tale (oh so tempting to turn Sean's mermaid joke on its head and say "Alan's tail") is getting my own creative juices flowing. Leave it to a writer to want to turn the pleasure of fantasy into the continuing enjoyment of a well-written story.

Each of Alan's two most compelling scenes with the most vivid imagery in that most delightful of FTRS - his having to pull out the bed to retrieve the ringing cell phone and his lunging for his door just as the elevator doors begin to open - are bringing to mind (to my mind, at least) possible alternative outcomes, what-might-have-been if things had turned out differently.

What if someone else had walked into the hotel room just as Alan's fingers wrapped around the cell phone that was behind the bed? What if his speedy goalie's reflexes had been just a bit too slow to stop the door of his room from clicking shut just as those elevator doors slowly slid open to reveal whoever might have been inside? What would have, what could have, happened next in either circumstance? Better yet, in both circumstances.

So many splendid possiblities for second scenes to the story. On this quiet evening in a Hlaifax hotel room (looking at my watch, my guess is that they would be heading into the Run, Runaway singalongs in Charlottetown right about now), I think I might turn my hand to a bit of creative writing.

A whole group in the hallway? Now there's a thought....

"What Counts Is Inside"

So much for plans, so much for Charlottetown. Sometimes, even the most last-minute plans find a way to go astray almost as soon as they are made. That last stay there for the ECMAs made me rather fond of Charlottetown, and I was looking forward to seeing the band in that venue; the series of concerts we saw there during the ECMAs were all excellent, especially the Lennie Gallant show. Some very good memories of Charlottetown - chief among them Alan performing Walk On The Moon at that Songwriters' Circle - but adding new good memories from there will have to be put on hold for the time being, because there are other things that need to be done tomorrow instead; someone who is important to me needs a bit of assistance, and even though I'm not sure I will be of much help, I'm going to do what I can. And then all that's left is hope.

There are worse places than Halifax in which to wind up spending an unplanned day, especially Halifax on a Friday. If the rest of the day goes well, maybe I will go see Cory and Paul play in the evening, even if that does mean going to the frigging Lower Deck. Speaking of the Lower Deck, that was a priceless look on Alan's face tonight when Sean started in with that first line of Barrett's Privateers. Their (and the crowd's) rendition of Farewell To Nova Scotia was nearly as priceless; that one I have on video. Given how few times it's likely they'll be singing that song, it could be a valuable video, but nowhere near as valuable as catching them singing Barrett's Privateers these days would be.

I'm a little too tired/worried/distracted to say much coherent about tonight's show at the Rebecca Cohn, the Second Halifax show. I can say that it would be easy to state that the lively crowd on this night was a far different group of people than made up last night's sluggish crowd, and equally easy to credit that difference as being the cause of tonight's far greater amount of audience participation. Easy to say, but I think it would be dead wrong. I think the people who made up tonight's crowd were more or less indistinguishable from those who were there last night; I think the difference came from the stage, not from the seats.

Alan came out as a man on a mission, a man who had no intention of even considering the possibility that he would not be getting what he wanted. He told this group of people that on this night in this sold-out venue, both those on stage and those off stage were all very fortunate to be in that place together, reminding them that there were many others (bands and fans) who would love to have been able to be there themselves. Because of this, he explained, each person there had a responsibility to make this night as good as they could possibly make it. While he was saying this, the look on his face was a perfect balance of expectation and belief, all underscored with insistence. We should all make the most of this night together, we would all make the most of this night together - you could read that message in the gleam in his eyes, in the set of his shoulders, in the squaring of his jaw. And it was all delivered with that invincible weapon of an irrefuseable smile

As much as I love words, persuasive words best of all, actions impress me the most. Words are easy (at least, I find words easy); actions that support those words are what require the lion's share of courage and commitment. When persuasive words couple with convincing actions, all things are possible, even making the Second Halifax Show into an ass-kicker of an evening, and that is exactly what happened last night.

Of course, it was all helped along by some intriguing (and imaginatively inspiring) talk about how Sean could have Alan for his own with no more than a sweet "hello," given that Alan is "easy as a Sunday morning," as well as Alan's suggestion of "What you gonna do with all the arse in them jeans?" as a potential hit song lyric with those who like the "My Hump" song so much. Then there were the Shantypanties given to Sean by Jana and Honey, helping along the mood of silly fun (and sweetness, when Sean took the panties around on stage to each band member to sign).

They played the whole show broadly and with persistent good humour, and they were too engaging and too endearing for any crowd to resist. The music was excellent, but then, the music had been equally excellent the night before. This night, the focus was on them being excellent, so much so that the crowd's attention and support could not fail to be given back to them in return. They made it as good as they could possibly make it, and they persuaded their crowd to do the same, led each step of the way by a man who used every facial expression in his repertoire, every posture and every tactic, to get them in his power. Led every step of the way by a man who is a master at this sort of thing.

During this show, Alan said (facetiously, or at least partly so),  "I want to be cool, just once". Watching him work his will on that crowd tonight, seeing the determination and command he showed in doing it, left me with no doubt that he is the coolest man I've ever seen, on any stage, in any town. Though I think that Sean wouldn't be all that far behind him on the Coolness Scale. 

Now I have to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. 

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ETA: It's turning out to be an even longer day than I'd thought it would be. When all you want is to give someone you care for a bit of peace, the last thing you expect is for someone else's desire to help you out to get in the way of your own efforts to help the other person. Twisted and tangled, no matter how hard we all try to be kind to one another. No wonder it's the road to hell that's paved with all of those good intentions.

I hope they have a great show in Charlottetown tonight.

"The Sky, The Rocks, And Sea"

I just spent a good chunk of my morning (at least that part of the morning I've been awake during) arranging the trek from Sydney to St. John's, step by careful step, all done in reverse: first the bus across the island, then the room in Port-Aux-Basques, then the ferry reservation. Next the transit from Sydney to the ferry terminal, and finally the room in Sydney. That last step was a killer...it seems there is a hockey tournament going on in Sydney the same night as the show, and the town is practically booked solid. But a little begging usually goes a long way, and that one got worked out too. Now it's all set, and I'm more than excited about it; this is my first time off the Avalon Peninsula, a chance to get a glimpse of what the rest of the island is like, people and places.

As the missus at the hotel told me, no way am I getting more than a first glance at what I need to see much more of at a future date...and then she proceeded to list all of what I need to be seeing and doing and understanding over on her side of the island ("Maybe I'm biased, but I've got no use for the other side, except maybe the Trinity area. Everything dear to my own heart can be found right here.") But a first glance is better than no glance at all. Maybe this summer I can make my way over to her side of the island and do some genuine exploring. Gros Morne has been calling me for quite some time now.

As I said, getting it all arranged - as well as reserving rooms for the last two post-Halifax shows I'll be seeing on this tour leg (as anyone who's travelled with me knows, I tend toward last-minute travel arrangements) - took up the part of the morning that was spent awake, which really wasn't all that much. Last night wound up being a lot of fun, during the show and after too, when I got to spend some time with a first-time GBS-fan-visitor to Halifax and a long-time GBS-fan-local who had not seen them live since 1997. They asked me where I thought we should all go after the show, and when I remembered it was Wednesday night, that was an easy call: Cory Tetford plays at Pogue Fado every Wednesday night, and I do love the way that man plays his guitars.

So off to Pogue Fado we went, where there was some good music (with quite the performance by that fill-in bassist...even after all the times I have heard Danny play every instrument on stage during sound check, and even knowing that he's been in his own bands, I still didn't know he could put on such a good show playing  bass on stage for real) and good times to be heard and had, and where the two ladies with me were persuaded to give Guinness a first try (one enthusiastic thumbs-up, one a little less enthusiastic, but she still went back for seconds). They've promised to give it another try tonight, this time with chocolate added, and I think we'll see how they respond to what I think is the best Guinness to be found in Halifax.

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"Are we in Halifax?" - Sean, commenting after Alan tried to tell people at the Rebecca Cohn it was permissible to stand up and dance during the show.

I've been thinking about what to say about last night's show at the Rebecca Cohn Theatre.  I really don't like to criticise crowds at shows, especially when it's likely that what people in the crowd did that drove me up a wall was done at least partly in response to what they felt was expected of them by the venue staff, but that had to be one of the most sluggish GBS crowds I have ever been in, and in Halifax, of all places. As a general rule, Halifax is the second-most passionate city when it comes to GBS (nobody tops Ottawa), and some of the very best GBS crowds I've ever seen anywhere have been here. Not last night. For all that the venue staff were consummate wet blankets, running around telling those who had stood up (even when the standing came in direct response to Alan's cry of "Get up, get up, get up!" in Lukey), that we must all sit back down again, it wasn't all the staff's fault when it came to that sluggishness. Some of the people around me were clapping sluggishly, sad to say.

I usually try to go with whatever the mood of the crowd is. There have been quite a few shows where it's clear enough that most there want to sit back and enjoy the show in relaxed comfort; it was like that in Moncton, and in Edmonton and also in Victoria, I think, among other places. The crowds at those other shows were enthusiastic enough, and it was clear they were loving what they were seeing and hearing; at the end of the day, that admiration and enthusiasm and love are what matter, standing or sitting notwithstanding. I'm not so sure about last night's crowd, not sure about either the admirimg or the enthusiasm or the love, and given how hard the men on stage were working to put on a good show - how hard they are working each night on this especially gruelling stretch of the tour - I will admit that this time, I thought the crowd in general was a pain in the arse. Even after Alan came right out in the second set and said that those whom "the spirit moved to stand up and dance" should feel free to do so, the response was rather tepid. He had to tell them (and it was definitely "telling" them, not "asking" them) to all rise for Helmethead, and then damned if almost all of them didn't sit right back down again once Helmethead ended and Consequence Free began.

Mari Mac wasn't enough to fire some of them up, and a sizeable number of the truly recalcitrant resisted even during Ordinary Day. It was not until Alan outright insisted people stand and take their "last chance to dance" during Fortune that the entire crowd rose it its feet, though, to give them credit, they stayed there until the second-encore Old Brown's Daughter was completed, but I think how beautifully the band performed that song transfixed everyone to the point where they simply forgot to sit back down again. Once again, excellent way to end the show, and much praise for that decision. To end your show leaving that kind of a crowd in a state of awe is no small accomplishment.

Never, ever would I have thought I'd be saying that GBS deserved a much better crowd than they got at any Halifax show, but there you go. Here's hoping the people coming to tonight's show have a litle more love for the music in their hearts and a little more bounce in their step. Maybe I should just hope for a noticeable pulse.

Separate from the crowd - as much as any GBS performance can be seen "separate from the crowd" -they put on a show that deserved the admiration of all there. I'll say one thing positive about the Rebecca Cohn - the acoustics are superb, which is excellent news for the Junos Songwriters' Circle Alan is hosting there in a week or so, even if the anal-retentive tactics of the venue's staff  bode much less well for that upcoming event  (yes, I did check out our seats for the Circle, and the view from Row C is quite a fine view, indeed), and their own sound was also much better than it has been at some previous shows. It had been better in Fredericton too, but I waited to mention that in case it was only a happy coincidence.

Now the vocals sound more balanced (Sean's GT was powerful, not painful, and Alan's harmony vocals blended beautifully with the rest) though some of the instruments are still not coming through all that well. Bob's whistle on most of the non-solo part of Sweet Forget Me Not  has been almost impossible to hear all tour long, and the banjo on Old Polina still tends to disappear on a regular basis). But some of it was perfect: The sound of Les was almost as spectacular as was the sight of Les, and the balance of the bass fiddle and the accordion is now about as close to perfect as it can be. Still some kinks to work out, but getting better all the time, though I wish I could say the same for the continuing trouble with how the spots shine into the faces of the people in the front rows - I've grown used to temporary blindness, but some of the others around me were considerably less understanding about it...of course, by the second half of the show, I was so irked by how sluggardly most of them were being, my sympathy for them was decidedly scarce.

Best banter for this night was All About Bob. At the end of Tishialuk Girls/Billy Peddle, Alan called for the crowd to give Bob a hand, and he and Sean went into their "How can any band not have a Bob in it without sucking" routine. Alan added that Bob was looking very good this night, very sexy ("I'm going all Brokeback on you here, Bob"). That led to a bit of crooning:

Alan: "Sometimes when we touch...Bob...the honesty's too much...Bob" 

Then Alan mentioned that there should be more love songs with the name of Bob in them. "Hmmm....I wonder what rhymes with 'Bob'?" he pondered, a devilish c'mon-I-dare-you-to-say-it look on his face.

Sean raises an eyebrow and makes the perfect answer "Employment."

Good enough so far, but Alan wants to take it further. "It's like that one fellow who loves his own name...Jesus." Now the laughter is a little nervous from some, though not a bit so from others of us. Alan strikes a penitent pose and looks pleadingly up at the sky: "I said that for entertainment purposes...please do not smite me until a quarter to eleven." Of course, during all of this, and especially when he struck that dramatic pose, what I am thinking about is what Alan wrote in his last FTR, about being naked in the hallway, better yet, trying to retrieve his wayward cell phone from behind the bed while in that same condition. I am indulging in some imaginative endeavours - while he is being charmingly blashpemous, I am picturing him being charmingly blasphemous sans clothing - and in doing so, I too am wondering about the smiting thing, hoping for that same delay until a quarter to eleven. There is still a show to see, after all, as well as a charmingly blasphemous view to continue admiring, imaginatively so.

Alan's Law & Order guitar riff is a greater pleasure to hear at each show, nearly as much as his Jesse's Girl guitar work. As Sean said, "You're just doing that to arouse me." After Sean described his fundamentally innocent Rover as a man more interested in spooning than in forking, Alan's faux-startled "Are you allowed to say 'forking' on stage?" made even the most sluggish souls around me chuckle.

Another sweet bit when talking about it being Glenn's "birthday" and how Glenn and Sean are only ten months apart in age. This fact seems to intrigue, even to inspire, Alan tremendously. The first time Sean mentioned it, at Moncton or Fredericton, Alan's response was a delighted leer and a "Way to go, Mr. McCann!" This night it was, "I want you all to think about it: one child was born ten months after the other, and Sean's grandfather fathered 16 children...that's some randy stock that Sean McCann comes from!" Sean's smile looked to be full of family pride, among other things. Sean smiled a great deal during this show, and on a night when Bob was not doing the same and Alan looked ready for and appreciative of any and all support he could get, it was Sean, as well as Murray and Kris, who wound up giving him that support. God knows he wasn't getting much of it from most of the people in that crowd.

I supppose I should stop ragging on the crowd. It's not like there weren't those there who really were enthusiastic and supportive, and there were likely even more who would have wanted to be that way too if they hadn't felt inhibited by the staff and by those sitting nearby. It's also probably not fair to expect more from a Halifax crowd than I expect from crowds in other places. Slugs are indigenous to many locales, apparently Halifax included. What very much impressed me were those band members who managed to rise above their own crowd and play their show on a level that was for the crowd they should have had there last night, rather than the crowd they actually did have. That's not something that I've seen them do all that much, and to do it now when they have to be on the knife-edge of pure exhaustion is doubly impressive. I thought this rising-above hit its pinnacle for Sean with his GT and for Alan with his WIAK lead solo; both of those moments were examples of showmanship at its finest, and it felt like both of those moments actually managed to create some electricity in what was a determinedly non-conductive group of people. Especially in the second set, they came out and played their songs their way, and they made it fun for those people there who wanted to share in that fun.

Now if only more of those kind of people will show up tonight, it will be a spectacular evening. And even if they don't, it will still be better than what anyone else is doing any place else. Add in how much I'm looking forward to more of that charmingly blasphemous view, and that makes me start to count the hours left until show time.

Now to go for a nice, long walk in my second-favourite Canadian city. And remember to buy the chocolate for tonight's Guinness.

Pictures note: Some of the best Guitar Rock God shots ever, largely because of how wonderful the Guitar Rock God himself was. Also another recording of OBD, this one complete from crowd shushing to final bows. As with all the other photos/video clips, I'll get them up in time, I hope during the break between tour legs. We were not allowed to take photos at the Rebecca Cohn, same as not being allowed to stand. One act of rebellion led to another. The third act of rebellion is going to happen at that Songwriters' Circle, most likely.

"Something (Really) Beautiful"

My eyes covered in shampoo, I run to the door and throw it open to continue my shower. But something is not right. I can’t see anything clearly, but it is the temperature that has changed so dramatically that causes me the greatest concern. As the blur quickly clears I realize that I am not in bathroom at all, but actually standing in the hallway of the hotel, about six feet from the elevator doors. Naked. - Alan's most recent FTR, dated 19 March

I just got into Halifax via bus from Fredericton, hopped out of my cab and scooted up to my room;  the first thing I did when I got into my room was hook up the laptop to check for a new FTR. (Well, make that the second thing I did, thanks to that extra-large tea from Timmie's.) I found the new FTR, and a somewhat-embarrassing sound of pleasure could be heard. And I read. Then there was a moment of utter silence in the hotel room, a moment of intense imaginative energy as the words of the writer became...well, let's just say that the Word became Flesh. Truly a transcendant moment. Talk about your lasting mental picture.

Then I went back and re-read the entire FTR, and found yet another cogitation-worthy image:

I jumped out and ran dripping across the hotel room, grabbed the phone and it slipped out of my wet hand and fell down behind the bed. I pulled the bed out and got the phone open just before the fifth ring.

God bless the faculties of imagination. That image is going to be on my mind during the show tonight, I am guessing. And during the show tomorrow night, and during the show in Charlottetown, and so on.

If you see me smiling, you'll know why...

The Carlu was a little off-putting that first TO show, and now I know why it was that my same-numbered seat moved over to the right so much from one show to the next. When they opened up those big aisles left-centre and right-centre for the second show, that made it possible for so much more movement in the crowd. Good call. And now I also know why Kris kept wandering away during the Montreal show. The least he could have done was share the score with the rest of the Habs lovers there each time he came back. I didn't find out the final score until I got back to my room that night; as a matter of fact, it was my next-door room neighbours who told me the score (of the game, that is). I've already heard plenty about what went on at Hurley's post-show; it sounds like they all had fun, and God knows they deserved it.

The best part about having overslept my own alarm (I answer the phone when it rings too, then I hang it up and promptly go back to sleep) and having to take the later bus out of Montreal was being able to catch that St. Patty's Day Parade. Very cool indeed. And I managed to get in and out of town without winding up naked in the hotel hallway. This time, at least. One of these days, maybe I will tell that story. In my story, I did not move as fast as did the opening elevator doors. Alan has the advantage of those swift goalie reflexes; my own lack of such speedy reaction capabilities was fully exposed in that incident. Not like the two fellows from Kansas City seemed to mind at all.

It is so good to hear his voice again in this FTR, always good to hear his voice and read what he's written. As for that weariness of  his, I picked up the Fredericton newpaper today (what the hell is a "Gleaner"?) and in it was a photo of Alan taken at last night's show. The cutline read "Atlantic Icon" and I have been thinking about that one all day, thinking about all of the responsibilities and ramifications of being an icon, and whether anyone ever thinks of becoming an icon as a career goal when they are young and just starting out. The picture was perfect, as far as verisimilitude goes. Once again, Alan looked beautiful, and Alan looked tired. I may never be able to think of either of those two words separately again.

I  have a show to get to. And I am taking those FTR mental images with me. 

"I Believe There's Something Beautiful"

Alan: And now a song for the ladies.

Sean: Yes, this one is for the girls. Sorry guys, I like the girls. (Looks questioningly over at Alan)

(Alan ponders for moment, shrugs, then grins): I'm not fussy.

*********************************************************************************************************************

I think come Halifax my assigned seats are back over on my "usual" side (exact same seat both nights, as I recall, same as in TO, which is weird, but in TO, even the same seat wound up in different places when they set the chairs up differently on the second night); this is probably a good thing. If I spent much more time over on that "other" side, the rest of my critical faculties would wind up being short-circuited by that unaccustomed view of those lovely parts (a confession - I think Alan has the most appealing belly I have ever seen on any man - or woman, for that matter, continuing with the "lack of fussiness" theme). Right now I'm having trouble remembering as much as I'd like to recall about last night's Fredericton show, except for the memory of how gorgeous that view was. The view itself I recall perfectly; I really didn't need to take all of those pictures...all I have to do is close my eyes.

It's hard to type with your eyes closed. I do remember a few other things from last night's show beyond how lovely Alan looked and his lack of fussiness. It was another tiny theatre (709 capacity this time, sold out again this time as well), so small that I  had to keep reminding myself that these are Canadian shows, not American shows. Many of the people attending these shows - quite a few of whom have been seeing GBS at the rink shows in the recent past - have been in awe of just how intimate the settings are; for quite a few of them, these shows are the first time they've been able to see facial expressions and pick up on so many of the other small nuances of the GBS performance. There are others who saw GBS years ago, back when the only venues GBS played were small venues, and these up-close-and-personal shows seem to be triggering waves of nostalgia for many of them. Then there are the first-time show attenders - and even in Atlantic Canada, there are still some of those at every show - and their first impression of this band is certainly turning out to be quite an impressive one.

Depending on how long GBS keeps touring (if they really do become that "lifer" band Alan goes on about), it will be interesting to see how this tour impacts the expectations, desires, and responses of their fans at subsequent shows, particularly if/when they go back to playing the big rink shows. I have a feeling that at GBS-shows-to-come I'm going to be hearing many reminscences of "I saw them back when they played the Playhouse (or the Capitol Theatre or the Imperial Theatre, and so on)...we were so close we could have reached out and touched them". Creating lasting good memories is quite the accomplishment, and I think that this tour is going a long way toward bonding both new and old fans to the band and their music.

Many people seem to be walking out of the shows realising that they've just been fortunate enough to be a part of something very special. The past two shows, that feeling has been amplified exponentially by how they have closed those shows: By ending with that breathtakingly sweet rendition of Old Brown's Daughter, the sense of awe and wonder (and gratitude - I am not at all used to hearing so many in the GBS audience speak with such gratitude at the end of their shows, but I could happily become used to hearing such talk) is predominant, and that has felt far sweeter and saner than the mood at the end of some past shows. This feels so much more consistent with the music and the place that music comes from.

The road may be long and hard, but they are doing very well as they travel along it.

Each and every show has its own prevailing mood and its own best moments. Probably the best of both at this show was when during the second set, after having seen the theatre's ushers shoo people back to their seats (I had been told emphatically that I must go to my seat and remain in that seat for the entire show) and tell them not to stand up, Sean became The Rebel and said "Someone tell the usher that the people who want to stand up and dance are allowed to". Unlike the Moncton crowd, in which it was clear that the majority did not want to stand, this crowd was tilted toward a majority of those who felt the opposite (the young men up front were priceless in their mobile enthusiasm, not doing it for the sake of getting attention with the bouncy-bouncy - unless perhaps they were taking Alan's self-confessed lack of fussiness seriously - but because they were loving the music and having fun); there had been attentive sitting, for the most part, during the first set, and for the second set, most wanted to heed the cry of "Get up, get up, get up". Thanks to Sean, it happened, and it made for a better show.

Also very good from my own point of view was that The Big Instrument's little instrument seems to be functioning perfectly now and there was an abundance of Freddie being channelled during both Shines Right Through and When I Am King. That view of my favourite Rock Star doing what no one else does nearly as well as he does it was simply spectacular. When is the next GA show again? Poor Bob...blame it all on the eye-opening potential of assigned seating. Speaking of Bob, I thought he put on an especially good show last night, particularly his accordion playing, that ethereal low-whistle part on Tishialuk/Billy Peddle, and his Come And I Will Sing You. On this night, he looked like he really wanted to be out on that stage (again, as with how happy Sean has looked at all the shows, if it is acting, then Russell has some serious competition), and that added both power and impact to his performance. Maybe instead of acting, it's that salt smell of the sea in the air...it is starting to feel like Newfoundland is getting close, even to me, and if I can feel that pull, they have to be feeling it so much more. They are getting close to home, and that has to be something that gives them hope and energy and maybe the performers' equivalent of a second wind.

Here's hoping for as few bumps and potholes as possible along the remaining stretch of road that lies between them and home.  Of course, I'm going to love every moment of each show, no matter how smooth or bumpy the ride. I'm not fussy, either.

ETA: I forgot two things. One was to say how good it was to see Hailey again, and that I hope she has a great time at the Saint John show. The other was in regard to two conversations I wound up having last night about the banter - how much of it is scripted, and if I ever get tired of hearing some of the same things being said each night. As I said in the one conversation last night, nearly everything they say on stage started out as a spontaneous comment at a previous show...one of the things I enjoy the most is being able to hear when a comment is made for the first time, gets a big laugh, and then to watch as that comment gets woven into the pattern of successive shows. It's as much a part of the creative process as are the songs themselves. Which answers the second question: No, it doesn't bore me any more than hearing the same songs as many times as I do. I enjoy how well they do the delivery of the banter, I love hearing the crowd laugh in all the right places, and when the next new comment that is likely to become another strand in the web and weave of their performance gets said, I can look forward to seeing those things happen all over again. I've got my fingers crossed in hopes of hearing more about Alan's lack of fussiness at future shows.

"Ripped Jeans And Rock-And-Roll Hair"

If I were a cat, I'd be purring right now. That's how glad I am at the moment. I just finished eating my first meal of the day (only Subway, but when you have not eaten in a long time, even Subway tastes wonderful), I am drinking a cup of bakeapple tea, and I am snuggled into one very cushy hotel room. I love the Delta. One of these days, I want to live at a Delta for a month or two. Not to make it all sound like sweetness and light, though; part of why I am enjoying this moment as much as I am is because I came into it feeling tired to the bone. And every single time I feel this way, I wonder how much more tired the men up on those stages have to be getting.

Even skipping shows and being a comparative slug to their energy expenditure during those shows I do see, it's already a long road. I was seriously considering skipping the next show and spending another night here in this cushy room with its lovely bed instead, but since my plan to take the Sydney ferry and then the bus across Newfoundland to St. John's (my final as-yet-untravelled stretch of the TCH) means I will miss the Saint John show for sure and maybe the Sydney show too, I think I will force myself to part company with this room in the morning and head on off to Fredericton. That decided, I am going ot concentrate my efforts on enjoying the Delta as much as I can tonight.

Right now, I need the Delta. The romance and intrigue of my last hotel room more or less vanished once I had used up my allotted 30 seconds of hot water in the shower yesterday morning, and last night was spent dozing on the bus seat on the slow road from Montreal to Moncton. But I have a bed tonight, a real bed, and I have hot water too, as much as I want. These are a few of my favourite things. I've already been a profligate user of that hot water, and I am mere minutes away from polishing off the cup of tea and turning my attentions to putting the bed to good use. But first I wanted to mention another of my favourite things: tonight's show at the Capitol Theatre here in Moncton.

Walking out after the show, I overheard the comment that sums up the impression I got from that small (sold out, but at the Capitol, "sold out" means 818 people) but persistently enthusiastic crowd. This from one fellow as he was talking to his buddy:

I knew they were good, I mean, they're Great Big Sea, of course they're good...but I didn't know they were that good.

That comment was almost as much music to my ears as was what we'd all listened to earlier.

And I made a startling discovery tonight. After going to God-only-knows (because I sure don't anymore) how many GBS shows, I have discovered that I may have been locating myself in the wrong place. The vagaries of assigned seating put me over right in front of Bob tonight, and guess what I found out sitting there? The view of Alan is splendid from over there; maybe more accurate to say that Alan is splendid, and I can see that very clearly from over there. I have always stuck to the left side so I can see his hands as he plays his guitar, but what I've been missing is those parts of him I don't get to see because of the guitar and my own lack of x-ray vision. Those are some very nice parts I've been missing. Add in that I also get to see Sean's "good" side (what should really be called his "better" side) from that angle (as well as his non-tipper bodhran hand in action), that I had an excellent view of the other on-stage Big Instrument and its player as well, and that I could actually see Bob play the accordion instead of just hear it, and all I can say is "Three cheers for assigned seating".

Seriously, or at least semi-seriously, it really was a wonderful perspective. I wanted to take lots of photos so everyone else could get to see that splendid view of those lovely parts, but the issue was muddled whether cameras were or were not allowed. It seems they were not, but most people were ignoring that, so I wasn't sure what to do about photos, but since I was very sure what to do about the splendid view - namely, enjoy it to the fullest - I more or less forgot about the camera until near the end of the show, and even then, I only remembered it because I wanted to be able to keep that lovely-parts view for myself after the show ended, not really out of any thought of sharing. Not one bit noble, not on this night. I was far too distracted by lovely parts to have any noble inclinations. Poor Bob...he might find himself stuck with me.

In addition to enjoying Alan's lovely parts, I was also in perfect position to watch him play to the crowd, across the floor and up to the balcony and into the boxes. I think every single person in that little theatre went home feeling the warmth of that beaming smile having been aimed directly toward them; that was one of the most impressive audience-engagement efforts I have ever seen anyone, even Alan himself, pull off, and it paid off in spades with crowd involvement and enjoyment. It was pure pleasure watching Alan deftly play the instrument at which he is most proficient: his crowd. Sean was right there with him each step of the way, as well. The two of them put on a dynamic performance, and the rest of the band backed them solidly and consistently, despite the continuing saga of sound troubles. I love hearing Alan's voice, but when even I think Alan's mic is up too high, that really does mean it is up too high. I'm not sure why the sound troubles have been so persistent this tour, but I would  have thought they'd have them worked out by now; as Sean noted during the show, when they finished the first set, they were at the exact halfway point of this tour, midway through the 26th show. It's past time for the bugs to have been exterminated.

When Sean said that about being at the tour's halfway point, I took a long look at each of them, particularly the one who carries the heaviest load. Even after a day off, he still looked tired. I'm trying to remember the last time I saw Alan when he did not look tired - before this tour began, certainly, before Australia, likely. Even when he is smiling the most captivating smile to be found in any hemisphere, Alan's eyes are intense, focused and determined. He looks like a man to be reckoned with, a man to be taken seriously, a man who is capable of reaching out and taking hold of whatever it is he decides he wants most. As much as the weariness is a concern, his present look suits him perfectly. That look shows in the photos; I'll try to get a few of them up before the Fredericton show so others can see what I'm going on about.

Best comment of the night went to Sean, in response to Alan's mention of how Sean has "eroticised" Law & Order for Alan during this tour. "I'm on a bus with nine guys; I'll eroticise anything and everything I can." As Alan and all the rest of us laughed, Sean added, "I'm not into the Brokeback Mountain thing. I'm straight...and I'm getting straighter." Alan's comment about Barney showing up at the Salmon Fest "with bling and 'ho's" came in a close second. I also liked his "now for another desperate segue" as he tried to get the ever-wandering discussion back onto the song-intro track.

But the best inadvertent comment came from Alan during the pre-Charlie Horse discussion about shaving and waxing, a bit of an errant-tongue moment. Instead of saying "Wax the master," it came out as "Max the waster," and that one is still making me giggle hours later, almost as much as it made him giggle as soon as it came out of his mouth. It was a silly show, which is another way of saying it was a good show. I love hearing those giggles.

Thumbs up for the addition of John Barbour in the set, now being done with a different arrangement, a little less of a dramatic build in sound that how they did it on the SB tour. But it's still a wonderful song, and I'd personally so much rather hear it (or Feel It Turn, which has also turned up in this setlist spot) than General Taylor. But I can also see why they do GT as much as they have been doing it - most of the crowds are more responsive to and more pleased by GT than by the other two songs. It's hard to argue with pragmatics; instead, I'll be grateful each time I get to hear the other songs and realise how lucky I am to have so many chances to hear differences in the shows.

As well as being lucky to experience the differences in the crowds. This was the most determined-to-remain-seated group I've seen so far (partly the theatre environment, to be sure, but Moncton has been a "sitting" crowd in the past, even at the rink shows). They were reluctant to stand the entire first set, hesitating all the way into Lukey, even after Alan had issued his "Get up, get up, get up!" command. But there are those of us who would not dream of refusing his order, and there were enough of the obedient ones to coax the others up onto their feet. They would not get up again until Helmethead, and then, again, it took Alan's telling them to stand up to get them there; and then he nearly lost them again during his brief, sweet guitar intro part to Consequence Free, but the obedient ones stood firm, and that won the day for the duration of the show.

This is not to say they were not an attentive, enthusiastic crowd; they were just especially reluctant to be attentive and enthusiastic on their feet. They did fine once they got onto those feet, and at the end of the show they would find themselves standing in rapt and silent attention as Old Brown's Daughter closed things out. No Old Black Rum or Rant & Roar - the ending was abbreviated, and my guess is that there was some kind of a deadline for something at work in that. Personally, I missed Rant & Roar but was delighted to see a show end without Old Black Rum. Sending the crowd home while they were still moved by and in awe of the OBD performance was a brilliant move, no matter what the reason for it happening.

There were a surprising number of people there tonight who had never seen GBS before, at least near where I was sitting, including the folks right next to me, who had gotten their front-row tickets from the theatre on a last-minute whim, and this may be part of why there was such a willingness to remain seated for the show, since many have not yet learned to make the assumption that a GBS show is somehow lacking if the crowd does not stand throughout. Standing or seated, what struck me the most was that every first-time person I talked to afterwards said they had loved what they'd just seen, and most were also saying that they now planned to buy the new CD. And that's what really matters.

I'm still hearing that fellow's comment about them being "that good" in my mind, and it is still making me smile. And I'm still hearing the very welcome sound of Alan's giggle, which is making me smile even more. Add that in with a photo or two or three of those lovely parts and the memory of that heat-seeking missile of a smile conquering 818 hearts (make that 817...one of those hearts was already conquered by that smile quite some time ago), and call it time to take a very good day into that waiting bed in this cushy hotel room, my last thought of this good day being an unabashedly smug one: I already knew they were that good. 

P.S. Anyone else really looking forward to Alan's next FTR?  It's been a bit of a wait since the last one.

"I Can't Stop Falling"

(Yet another good reason for having started a blog...some of what I'm going to write about this Montreal visit would have never flown on a GBS message board, not without way too many pairs of panties getting twisted.)

I came within a hair's-breadth of skipping the Montreal show. One of the great temptations of the umlimited-travel bus pass is if you feel the urge to alter travel plans and go some place that you love with all your heart - say, Quebec City - then you can satisfy that urge on a whim if you so choose. I stood there in the Montreal bus terminal, gazing at the line of people waiting to get on the bus that was going to carry them off to the most beautiful city on the continent, and I hesitated.

But then I remembered what the Montreal SB show had been like in 2004. It had been one of the rowdiest, most passionate crowds of the entire tour, and that had turned the show into a full-fledged, take-no-prisoners rock show. I remembered Alan being in all his glory at that show. I happen to be very fond of full-fledged, take-no-prisoners rock shows, and I am even more fond of Alan in all his glory. This was also going to be my only chance to see how some of the people of this "other" unique culture would respond to the music of the new CD.  And Montreal is no slouch at being a cool city in its own right.

I turned my back on that tempting lineup and headed out to catch a taxi. It wound up being one of my better decisions.

It would also wind up being a bit of a screwy day of confusion and missed connections: A bus had broken down on the way, and the wait had been long; the street in front of my hotel is being excavated for some reason, so the taxi had to let me off to walk most of the way; the hotel reservation was all messed up and we had fun getting it worked out in three languages (my hotel clerk is indeed bilingual...he speaks French and Arabic); the hotel itself wound up being quite the eyebrow-raiser (as well as the neighborhood - more on that in a moment); a friend who was supposed to meet me at the show so we could swap tickets/seat locations never showed at all - everything was turning out a little tweaked.

Of course, now I have continued that trend into the next day by oversleeping and missing my morning bus, leaving me with a very creative bus run to Moncton, as well as a chunk of quality time tonight in the Montreal bus terminal. The last time I spent the night in that terminal, it was like something out of a Beckett play: the terminal is technically open all night, but after about midnight, they lock you inside with whoever is in there at the time, and your little group spends the night together inside while stray outsiders pound in vain on the door and beg to be let in too; during that long, surreal night, each of the other 11 people locked in with me came up to me in turn to emphatically (and bilingually) warn me not to trust the other 10 people I was in there with, along with that repeatedly shared shout of "Don't let them in!" (bilingual, yet again) whenever I would start to open the door to one of those pounders-in-vain. One of the more interesting nights I have ever spent, anywhere and at any time. So it looks as if there is more tweakiness to come tonight ("tweakiness to come" describes my hotel and its neighborhood perfectly - again, more on that in a moment).

It was a bit of a walk to the Theatre Olympia, made longer by my usual few wrong turns. The businesses along the way were scenic enough, though. I went into one of them to ask directions and got chatting with the fellow there; for some reason, this seems to have sent a message to another fellow, who came up to me and indicated he would be more than happy to pay me the going rate for a blowjob. When I laughed and declined, he took that as my price-negotiating stance and promptly upped his offer. I declined again, and he sighed over what he clearly saw as my (forgive the pun) hardball insistence, making yet another, rather lucrative offer, especially given the current exchange rate. It seems one could make a decent living in Montreal putting their mouth where someone else's money is.

I'm still not sure what it was that convinced this man that my services were for hire, but now I'm wondering if wearing a shirt that has "The Hard And The Easy" emblazoned across my tits might have played some role in it. Come to think of it, my desk clerk has been very friendly too, but I think that goes with the hotel. Last night after I got back from the show, I could hear the folks in the room next to me having themselves a splendid time. Things eventually got quiet after having reached what sounded like an especially rewarding culmination, and a little after that I went out in the hall to the pop machine, only to find the next-door fellow also there, getting a few cold drinks for him and his partner. Again, I started talking to him and that conversation led to an offer, this time quite the generous one to join him and his friend. This intrigued me, given the fact that his friend is a fellow.

My circuitously scenic walking tour of the neighborhood on the way to the show and my adventures of the oral variety in the restaurant had already taught me much about where I was, so I was not surprised when during the show Alan mentioned the fellow who came bouncing out of the bar and enthusiastically put his arm around Alan. I can imagine how thoroughly disappointed that poor fellow was when he asked Alan if Alan was gay and Alan replied, "Not really," although I must say that does seem like a response that could allow for a small ray of hope, as do those comments Alan made about thinking of himself as Murray's bass while watching Murray with his arms wrapped around the Big Instrument; I wonder if Alan has any clue just what kind of effect that comment had on me, or how I am going to be looking at that big fiddle from here on out.

Sorry, got distracted. Back to the understandably hopeful fellow on the street. If I were a gay/bisexual man, well, let's just say I would have eyes only for Alan, for so many excellent reasons, chief among them his delectable swish when walking, and I'm sure the hopeful fellow's disappointment was as intense as my own would have been. Though persuasion can work wonders at times, so perhaps he should have been more patiently persistent. Standing there at the pop machine in the hotel hallway, listening politely to that generous offer of shared companionship, all of this was going through my mind, which was full of thoughts of Big Instruments, and there was most certainly a smile on my face. I'm looking forward to the first bass-fiddle song in Moncton. I think I'm going to start calling Alan "The Big Instrument".

Quebec City is very lovely, but Montreal is fucking fun. Again, please forgive the pun. 

And so was the show, fun from start to finish. Not as rowdy a crowd this time - no crowd surfing that I saw - probably at least partly because of the classy theatre confines, but a crowd that was enthusiastically cheering and clapping from the get-go. Montreal crowds sing well, every single show I've seen; there are always plenty of men up front, unlike the estrogen-overload at so many other shows, and the addition of their voices creates an excellent blend that I hope makes its way up to those on stage. I spent the first set over to the far left side (thanks to a very sweet security fellow who let me stand there even when he'd chased everyone else away...the security fellow for the next set chased me away too, but going back to my assigned seat wound up working out in the long run, so no worries), which gave me a great view of the crowd responding to the band.

It was "the usual" set list for this show - Alan did not sing that French song of his, which was the only disappointment of the evening - but this time they did not play the "trad set" with all that much restraint. It looked like they had gotten some rest the night before (Alan said he'd decided to celebrate St. Pat's Day in Montreal instead of Toronto, and I hope he wound up doing just that), and were ready to play this one hard and fast. He still looks tired  (Sean is starting to look a little weary too, and when in the living-room SoNC talk about beagles he said, "I miss my boys," I have a feeling he was talking about missing more than only his beagles, though I'm sure he misses them too, same as I miss my big-boy cat) but Alan's voice sounded like it had gotten a little well-deserved rest and he was belting as impressively and as beautifully as ever. Sean too - he sang such a powerful General Taylor that afterwards he was looking around the stage for bits of himself that might have been jarred loose during that performance.

Every time I see a show in Montreal, I get the feeling that many if not most there are hearing that show's new music for the first time (which I hope bodes well for CD sales at the merch table and post-show), and it is always fascinating to watch the responses to that new music. The looks on the faces I could see during River Driver were especially striking, as were the smiles coming from the couples during Graceful & Charming. Though Alan's tale of his would-be new friend got the biggest laughs, all of the intro material went over well, with the crowd laughing about shaving your brother and rovers who spoon on the couch while watching Law and Order (I love Alan's L&O guitar riff - Sean is dead-on right about it being arousing).

Even the Gideon Brown "boat envy" conversation, which goes back to the SoNC tour, got plenty of laughs (my vote is always going to be for "small boats that can make many trips" over "large boats that go for long slow rides" - the more frequent the travel, the more enjoyable the travel... and, for the record, my mermaid vote would be for Girl On The Top, and I'm sure my would-be customer would concur). The Mermaid brought the house down, as it does at every show. If I have not said lately what a wonderful overall performance Sean is putting on during this tour - and how much his efforts to communicate with and engage the crowds have added to what Alan always does along the same lines - then shame on me. I should be saying it every show, since he is doing it every show. Sean has been simply wonderful on this tour; he has been the performer I have thought for nearly five years he could be, and that has added so much more to their shows.

I remember the first few times I saw Sean perform, back in the "Sean Is Scary" days when it did often seem as if there were plenty of places he would rather be than on those GBS stages, the times he would stare unblinkingly out into the crowd with such a look of misery on his face. But I never saw him as being "scary". I saw a tender-hearted optimist who had too few things about which to feel optimistic and who was trying to protect himself behind a cynical shield. Dear God, did I get ripped to shreds when I piped up with that opinion of Sean. Seems I had stepped on the toes of those who wanted a "Bad Boy/Suffering Artiste" type. I just wanted to see him look happy and healthy and hopeful. And now, finally, he does, and it has been a delight to see. If that's not how he's genuinely feeling these days, then all I can say is that he's got acting skills that could give Russell a run for his money. He is charming the pants off the crowds with his performances (I didn't really mean that literally, but since I am still in Montreal, take it as you will).

I can't say much for crowd reaction during the second set because that's when I was shooed back to my seat by that second security guard. After that, I didn't see much except for what happened on stage. The second set did start out as that full-fledged, take-no-prisoners rock show with Shines Right Through, Les being played with rock-star perfection by The Big Instrument (oh, I really do like that description), though there were more Les troubles during When I Am King. Bob came up with a credible substitute lead solo when Les could go no longer, bu