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

"Standing At The Crossroads" Part One - GBS Spring Tour: First Leg, First Thoughts

We finished with a couple of good houses in Columbus and Indianapolis. Good for morale, going into this break before the next run in a couple of weeks. These past ten days were really bout two things; getting better acquainted with some cities in the Midwest and providing ourselves with the opportunity to workshop and experiment with new music in front of a real crowd. -  Alan Doyle's online journal, March 26th entry

No way do I have enough time now to say what I want about these past ten shows (nine, actually, since all I know about Madison is secondhand) before I have to get on today's bus and head to Saskatoon. I'm not quite ready to say all of those things yet, either. I need some quality thinking-time still, and I have a feeling that the long view up and around the Frigging Huge Lake is going to make for just that.

I really do want to have this one thought through before saying too much because I'm convinced that what GBS has done this first tour leg is something important, something significant too. I've no way to know for sure if it's something they will follow up on and continue with - I certainly hope it is, but only time will tell - in the more-distant future or even on the upcoming second tour leg, but even if they don't, this first set of shows has been and will remain something significant and important in and of itself. It has been something that went far beyond what I expected from GBS for this tour, and also beyond what I have been expecting of them for the future in general, though not beyond what I have hoped for.

It's been something I am so glad and grateful to have been able to witness, though it most certainly has not been conducive to achieving Middle Ground. Far from it, I'll have to confess, since I managed only to stay away from Whitehorse (a very hard call) and Madison (which in retrospect seems like a wise call). It is easier to skip shows that are mirror images of one another in terms of set list and venue configuration - though even those shows will each still have its own unique and unforgettable aspects - than it is to miss any show that promises to reveal some new treasure played in a different way at a venue that is not at all like last night's venue. Discovery and wonder are not to be resisted or refused, no more than is any new experience waiting around the corner, and walks on the moon are by definition far removed from Middle Ground.   

Oh yes, and I believe they very well may have given me the final piece of the puzzle I needed for an ending for which I have been waiting a very long time, an ending that is worth writing  because it leaves room for new beginnings, as well as hope for the continuing story.

It's been an interesting few weeks. Too much so to try to write coherently about just yet. I already had so much on my mind about these past shows, and then Alan came along with this journal entry and has given me that much and more to think about too, especially with this comment of his:

I find myself writing a lot these days with the GBS show, and not the CD or album in mind. Is that a problem, I wonder? Am I limiting myself by giving in to the temptation to write a concert and not a record? Not sure. The two set show does allow for such a wide variety of tempo and style that I am starting to believe that anything goes. Hmm. We’ll see.

This is more than enough to keep my mind busy from Sudbury to Winnipeg, all the way on into Saskatoon likely, even through Juno weekend and back to St. John's. There's a whole brave new world of possibility in this comment, which makes for an equally unfettered realm of response. It's a response worth taking time with, one pleasurable enough to linger over - but for now I can say without a bit of hesitation that I love the thought of Alan "starting to believe that anything goes," in his writing, in his arranging, in his performance, in everything he does. That belief is an excellent creative starting point, one that leaves the door wide open for a full range of potential and possibility; it is not at all a bad starting point for life, either, so long as it's grounded in a good heart as well as in an impassioned desire. I have faith in both heart and desire when it comes to this man.

I do like the idea of a world where Alan Doyle believes that anything goes. He could probably be pretty happy in that world, though I'm sure he'd still find something to bitch about there, part and parcel of his being happy, in a way, I suppose. And he could write some amazing songs in that world. Maybe even more amazing than the songs he's already written.

There was a wealth of amazing songs to be heard over the course of these past ten shows, and I think I am going to wrap this up with what I'm hoping is an inclusive list of those songs. Given GBS's rep as a band that sticks with a fairly rigid set list for much longer than some think they should (the first thing I ever read on the Old, Old, Old OKP when I logged on for the very first time was a long debate about this very topic), what they did this first tour leg was totally unexpected and absolutely wonderful. It was ground-breaking.

Bob Whistle (from Tishialuk set)
Billy Peddle
Donkey Riding
When I'm Up
Jack Hinks
Walk On The Moon
Paddy Murphy
Sea Of No Cares
Charlie Horse
Scolding Wife
How Did We Get From Saying I Love You
Captain Kidd
Jackey's Jig (Jakey's Gin)
Old Black Rum
Ordinary Day
Hold On For Your Life (1-2-3-4/Here We Go Again)
I'm A Rover
Shines Right Through Me
Penelope
When I Am King
Helmethead
General Taylor
Run, Runaway (with singalongs ranging fron the usuals to Bohemian Rhapsody to Summer Love from Grease)
Clearest Indication
Consequence Free
Mari Mac
Lukey
Bad As I Am
Excursion
Fortune
Straight To Hell
Process Man
Captain Wedderburn
Feel It Turn
River Driver
Where I Belong
Sweet Forget Me Not
Gideon Brown
Boston
Berry Picking Time
Lucky Me
John Barbour
Rant & Roar
Old Brown'sDaughter
Beat The Drum

That's more than 40 songs over the course of just 10 shows, some of those songs brand new and still evolving, some songs not done in years, some songs rearranged and re-tooled, an astonishing variety of songs that range all the way from wistfully lovely cappella trad tunes to defiantly arse-kicking electric-guitar originals, on occasion encompassing the full range of that wide spectrum from one breathless moment to the next.

I'm with Alan: Anything goes.

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

Alright, I am getting antsy sitting here using the wireless connection in the hotel lobby, and now that the sun is finally up, I badly want to take a long walk before I get onto a bus for a few days. Then I have to get packed up, so this is it for me at least until Saskatoon, where I think I am going to be seeing and hearing a lot of music from the thougtful perspective of thinking about what a band who is not going to be in Saskatoon - and most especially about what a superb writer, consummate performer, thrilling guitar player, and darn good goalie who is also most unfortunately not going to be in Saskatoon - is accomplishing in their own creative world.

I will also be looking forward to coming back to St. John's, and I hope going to see the April 6th premiere of Young Triffie. Maybe even that jaunt Fogo too, if it will stop frigging snowing anytime soon.

Then it will be time for the second tour leg, with whatever wonder and discovery might lie ahead. Now I am thinking about those lines from Walk On The Moon:

It must have been amazing,
What a world they got to see.
So I don't care, my foolish fear,
Won't get the best of me.

'Cause I'm alive,
I've got one shot and I'm takin' it to you.
I'm alive,
And I realised not a moment too soon,
This is my one small step,
This is my walk on the moon.

Each time Alan has sung Walk On The Moon so far on this tour, I have heard people in the crowd break out into spontaneous cheers partway through the song, usually by the second chorus. Each time, Alan has smiled a small, sweetly grateful smile when he hears those spontaneous cheers. Each time, I have remembered that rainy night back in 2003 when he sang this song for the first time, and each time I have thought about the very long and often bumpy road that has led from that rainy night in New Orleans to these Midwestern cities of Ames and Kansas City and St. Louis during the incipient spring of 2007. Each time, I have looked up into Alan's face at the expression he gets in response to the crowd's reaction to his song. And each time, I've thought every bumpy mile of that long road has to be worth it for leading to these cheers and this response.

Just use your imagination to hear the cheers. It's the next best thing to being there. Better yet, go see it and hear it for yourself if you possibly can.

I have some walking to do, while I still can.

"It's The Best Thing We Can Do" Part Two - Rest Of The Indianapolis Music Mill Photos

Still not all of the photos from the Indianapolis show, only the ones I've gotten edited so far. Light issues are making some take more time to edit than I have right now, especially some of the wonderful but dark Looming Giant Alans. I am very fond of Looming Giant Alans.

Some of these are pretty blurry. As the show got closer and closer to its end, the primary object in motion began to move faster and faster, a whirl of heat and passion and intensity, until I could no longer begin to keep up with him, though it was a delight to try to do so. I'm not sure if even a flash can keep up with Alan Doyle when he is leaving it all on the stage.

Singalongs (Bohemian Rhapsody)

Run, Runaway

John Barbour

Mari Mac

Lukey

An Excursion with a lovely belly.

Fortune

Straight To Hell

"So Heaven on Earth will have to do"

I can't imagine too many better images with which to close out this tour leg. Not ones that include pants, that is.

More about this tour run when I get somewhere else. Probably not during the Junos, though. I am going to be busy during the Junos...busy missing somebody who I wish could be there too.

"It's The Best Thing We Can Do" Part One - Last Night Of The Tour & Leaving It All On The Stage In Indianapolis

I know exactly how you feel. - Alan, last night, responding to how the Indianapolis Music Mill crowd was cheering during the final encore for the show to keep on going instead of coming to an end.

Last night of the tour, last night of a short tour that seemed harder and longer than the schedule might have suggested, perhaps partly because of the challenge GBS took on in doing so many different songs over the course of just ten shows, maybe partly too because of how the persistently soggy weather kept them cooped up in a tour bus where flu bugs fluttered threateningly around them. And a few of the shows had to be rough, venue issues in St. Louis and what sounds like asshole issues in Madison.

Whatever the causes and in whatever proportions, there was a whiff of weariness in the Indianapolis air, with an even stronger aroma of eagerness to be home coming from the Seanward and Bobward end of the stage. Though Sean did very well with his Paddy Murphy and Mari Mac and even better with a properly crowd-hushing John Barbour, still, each time I looked at him, I could almost see him already walking in through his own door, happy to be home again. Bob put on a perfectly credible show as well, but when he strode off the stage at show's end, he looked more than ready to walk directly to St. John's, if need be.

Alan was enough of a contrary tide to counterbalance the both of them. As each song was sung and played, as each minute of the last show of this tour leg slipped inexorably from the present into the past, Alan played harder and he burned brighter. "Leaving it all on the stage" is a common expression for giving it everything you have to give, holding nothing back in the performance; with Alan, "leaving it all on the stage" makes me think more in terms of him leaving some crucial part of himself on the stage of each and every show into which he has poured his heart and desire and passion, a crucial part of himself that will remain patiently waiting for him to return and reclaim it on the next stage that lies ahead in his future.

They had a good crowd for this last night of the tour leg, a very good crowd for what was only their second time in Indianapolis. It was a good group to wait in the GA line with too, interesting people from the local area, from other states, from other provinces, with even a few from Newfoundland. They came, they saw, they conquered.  And by the time they climbed back into the tour bus and headed out on the drive to Toronto - the same drive I need to be taking in a few more hours - they very well may have crumbled as well.

I'm going to put the pictures in two entries, in the hopes it will be a bit easier to open the page, but I am posting both entries now before I leave, since I will be offline for a while, maybe until I get into Saskatoon on the 29th.  There are still some things I want to say in general about this ten-show run - I especially want to get a list together of all the songs they did...I am reasonably sure the count is over 40, and that's really something. But that's going to wait until after I get to St. John's, maybe even a bit later than that if I can come up with a persuasive enough argument for going to Fogo in early April.

I took no photos of the first half of the opening set, for three reasons. First, the pre-show information the security fellows gave us about photos was rather enigmatic, so it seemed better to wait and see if others were going to take pictures and what happened wjen they did. Second, I was still feeling somewhat chastened by my own problems with pettiness the prior day; "chastened"never lasts all that long with me, especially not once the show starts, but it did manage to last halfway into that first set. Third, and somewhat less chastened, I had seen Berry Picking Time on the set list and wanted very much to get a video of it, since I always wonder with a song such as this if they'll change their minds and never do it again; I figured there was no sense taking the chance of getting in trouble for pictures before taking the chance of getting in trouble for video. Priorities.

Turns out no one minded photos and lots of people took them. Video was apparently a no-no. End result is I have the first half of Berry Pickinh Time on video and quite a few photos from the last three-quarters of this show.

Photos were difficult because of the angle caused by how close we were to the stage. Sean had the end of Alan's mic stand across his face most of the night, and Bob was hidden away on the other side of Sean the one good shot of the batch of Sean at his mic only came about because I was moderately obnoxioius with holding the camera up as high as I could). There was a blinding light directly behind Murray in my line of sight that made it so I could only bear to look his way when it was not on, if I wanted to keep my retinas unscarred, that is.

But I could quite clearly see the brighter and more dazzling light that was burning in front of me to my right.

How Did We Get From Saying I Love You

Captain Kidd

Ordinary Day

Alan gets an less-than-enthusiastic expression after tasting a shot brought to the stage, which I think was one of the Tuaca Blasters (italian liqueur and Red Bull) that were being handed out back by the merch table as a promotion effort at the venue. I tasted one earlier and probably got much the same expression...it tastes like shitty-sweet cough medicine. It took Alan three reluctant "Sociable" sips to up his bottom. Murray took a polite sip, wrinkled his nose with disdain, and promptly set his cup aside dismissively. Sean chased Alan around with his own shot, trying to force Alan into another three Sociables.

Heading into Shines Right Through, though Les wouldn't make it all the way through the song, and Alan had to finish up on the acoustic. Brit would get Les up going again in time for When I Am King (and Straight To Hell - I love three-Les shows).

I really couldn't get a clear shot of Sean during much of Rover, as far as I recall. But then again, I was a bit distracted by that dazzling bright light directly in front of me.

"Kneeling gently upon a stone"

There are times when the fourteen year old boy inside Alan shines right through.

And then that boy turns into the Rock Star Guitar God.

Winding up this entry with some shots from Helmethead, during which the lighing set-up actually allowed me to see Murray. Or maybe Alan's brighter incandescence overpowered that lesser light.

"Hold On For Your Life" - Petty Foolishness, Truthful Songwriting, And Beginnings Of Columbus (Videos)

Editing In: I did manage to get the video clip of Alan's new song 1-2-3-4/Here We Go Again, as performed last night in Columbus, uploaded.

Here We Go Again, GBS, Columbus 2007  (145 MB, .mov file)

And the "French Song" whose name I can't recall now - it's the one about love being better than good wine.

French Alan, Columbus 2007   (24 MB, .mov file)

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

Mission accomplished in St. Louis. My deepest gratitude to the kind folks who escorted myself and merch guy, Glen, to the heart of downtown St. Louis following our show at the University Theater. We had a rough one as the gig did not go as planned and the theatre and promoter made errors in the seating arrangement leaving audience members scrambling for re-arranged seats. Not quite up to the professional standard to which we aspire.  Apologies. All this strife doubled my resolve to have some positive experience.  The after show adventure made my day. In many ways. -  Alan's most recent online journal entry

I'm not sure how true this is for others, but one of the things I find it the hardest to admit to is when I've been petty.  I'd much rather 'fess up to having been an outright arsehole instead of facing up to having been so selfish and small that I begrudged even the smallest moment of happiness to someone I care about...for no other reason than wishing I could have played some small role in bringing that happiness about.  As I said, "petty,' and when the moment passes and leaves a feeling of shame behind in its wake, "foolish" and "regretful" can be added as well.

Alan's trek to the Gateway Arch does sound like it was important to him, and he did a beautiful job describing what he saw and the impact it had, an impressively written entry overall. He even expressed gratitude to a photographer in his FTR journal, of all places - will wonders never cease. Most important, he looks happy in those appropriately blurry photos. I hope that enjoyable late-night experience gave him something he needed that helps him get through whatever less-pleasurable experiences might lie waiting around the next corner.  Because that is really what matters.

After finding out that the Madison show set list included not only Berry-Pickin' Time but also, for the first time so far this tour, Lucky Me, that was enough to take "petty" all the way to outright envy. It would have been wonderful to hear Lucky Me, but it's wonderful enough that Alan felt like singing it. Maybe that late-night venture to the Gateway Arch played a role in that feeling. It's a good starting place for all explorers, past and present, and maybe even for those who have a desire to walk on the moon in the future.

There's a line from Alan's new song, the one with the tentative title 1-2-3-4/Here We Go Again, that seems to have lodged itself in my mind (actually, it alternates with the chorus of Straight To Hell - the latter of which earns you and odd look or two when you absent-mindedly sing it out loud on a packed Greyhound bus), partly because of how good a songwriting hook it is, but also partly because it feels as if it's aptly describing something immediate and true: Hold on for your life. Words of wisdom to live by, excellent advice for when those pebbles on the gravel road become rocks so frigging huge that you start to wonder if your bus is going to stay upright during the roughest stretches. Sometimes all you can do is hope for the best, and hold on for your life.

I made a good video of this song last night at the Southern Theatre - the first video I made at the Chicago show has very loud crowd chatter in the background - and am thinking about going ahead and putting it up here. There are already video clips of the new songs and new arrangements floating around, some on the official site, so it doesn't seem like much harm in terms of spoiling first experiences. And for those who've got no chance for hearing such a wonderful song, or at least not yet for a very long time, it seems good to share what's wonderful.

Such sharing might not be on a par with providing the means for late-night day-making adventures, but if it makes for even a fleeting smile  and a bit of happiness, that's good enough for me. I"ll try to get it uploaded either before we leave for Indianapolis today or before I head to Toronto on Sunday. I've got my own winding road that eventually will get me into Saskatoon for the Junos on the 29th; lots of downtime to fill, so I'm hoping to get a good amount of photos done.

Oh yes, I have a video from last night of Alan singing most of his "French Song" (the one about love being better than good wine, if I recall the translation I was given). It's a very sweet clip, and I'll try my best to get that one up too before I head North. If one is going to be holding on for one's life, I can't think of a better, more endearing, or more worthy handhold to cling stubbornly to. There are some things, and some people, in this world worth a life of holding on.

Last night's show at the Southern Theatre was the first on this tour to sell out, and it was an enthusiastic and supportive sold-out crowd that showed up for GBS, good timing for that too. It was clear that the players came out determined that this was going to be a memorable night in Columbus. That there was no doubt being allowed as to the final outcome can be seen by the last entry Alan has made to the night's set list: Kisses And Bows.

Even though they wound up doing General Taylor instead of Bad As I Am and an off-mic, stage-edge Rant & Roar instead of Old Brown's Daughter, those changes did not impact at all what followed after. There was cheering and there was applause; there were indeed Kisses and Bows, as well as Alan's handing out of guitar picks to all the children within his long reach.

As sweet as those Kisses and Bows were, it was the last moment when Alan cast a long thoughtful gaze up into the Southern Theatre's two lofty balconies - balconies that on this night were filled with cheering, adoring, grateful fans - and the expression on his face that are at the heart of what matters the most to me about this show. Yes, I have dozens of pictures from last night of Alan tearing up and pounding away on all of his stringed instruments - pictures I love and moments I loved even more - but this one photo is still the nearest and the dearest to my heart.

This was a night where I went into a show asking myself questions about whether there is any point to what I have been trying to do these past few years - whether there is any purpose that justifies being snubbed on a street or made invisible inside a venue, being unquestioningly believed to have done horrible things to someone I care about, having psychotic crap incessantly clogging up email, setting aside all conventional and deeply ingrained notions about what people who have "self-respect" should and should not accept in terms of how they're treated, caring about people who are convinced their lives are easier when spent among those who do not care, wanting to write about a group of people who hardly anyone outside of that group wants to think well of and who hardly anyone inside that group cares what those outside think about them, spending so much soul-crushing and heart-breaking time around too many people who have scant interest in seeing one other as people...or simply not being able to be one of the "kind folks" who wind up with deepest gratitude from being conveniently and oh-so fortuitously onhand to provide day-making late-night adventures. Hard questions. 

This is the picture that gives me as much answer as I need to those hard questions.

Though I must admit, I am awfully fond of - and find a few more pertinent answers to hard questions in - shots such as this one too, pictures that show what was abundantly clear last night: not only does GBS put on a grand overall show, but also that Alan Doyle is a performer without equal who is completely unstoppable whenever he sets his heart and mind and desire to be that performer. One of those "whenevers" was last night in Columbus, particularly during the  second set. He was amazing.

Point and purpose well worth the sage advice of "Hold on for your life." He made my day. In many ways.

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

Last note of one final "Happy Birthday" wish to Glenn. I hope he had as much fun as he deserves to have. I like Glenn a great deal, and not because I want to use him to suck up to others who aren't anywhere near as sweet and genuine as he is. People should be sucking up to GBS so they can get an "in" with Glenn.

I'll have more pictures and most likely the 1-2-3-4/Here We Go Again video clip up either before or  after Indy. And that lovely French song too.

"No Bigger Than A Pebble" - Addendum

I see from Alan's most recent FTR that he found a way to see the Gateway Arch. Funny, my shuttle went right past that same spot the next night on the way to the Greyhound Terminal and when I saw how the reflective surface of the Arch sparkles in the evening light - I'd only seen it in daylight before - it occurred to me that he might like seeing it at night too. It sounds like he did enjoy it a lot.

That's all for now, except for a last bit of editing in the prior entry.

"No Bigger Than A Pebble" - Alan The Offended Explorer, St. Louis GBS Show And Photos & Breaking New Ground

    

   

I protested out loud wondering how any upright human could help themselves from exploring a place with unique and fascinating history, language, culture, cuisine, art, architecture, and music, that was less than half a days drive away from their own front step!  Growing up on an isolated Island must have embedded in me some odd sense of curiosity about all foreign people and places, and it amazes, and even slightly offends me, when others don’t share the same wonder. - Alan's latest journal entry

I sympathise with the feelings of amazement and even a bit of offence, a bit of offence that does seem to go both ways at times; I come across people like this all the time too, the ones who think I am certifiable not because of some lurid notion of stalkers, but simply because of my love for travel and exploration, each of us winding up feeling a measure of pity for the other, I suppose. I'm not sure there's a single cause for why some of us turn out this way.  It's certainly not specific to isolated islands; I grew up in Los Angeles, which has its own version of isolation, to be sure, but not in the way Alan is talking about, I don't think. And my guess is that he has found his restless curiousity and love of discovery to be as much  of an exception among his own isolated-island-born-and-raised friends and family as I've found the same to be among my living-life-in-the-fast-lane loved ones.

Whatever the cause, some of us have and will always have that desire to explore. We get excited by something as simple as finding ourselves on a brand new road, travelling its path for the very first time; winding up in a new town, especially one filled with striking outward manifestations of some previously unknown culture, is cause for celebration. But even the less exotic has its own unique charms for those who are susceptible to the allure of such charms: the subtlety of an unfamiliar accent and the cadence of a new turn of phrase; the angle of the late-afternoon light and the sudden warmth of a spring breeze; the first taste of a new food and the first notes of a new kind of music.

Alan sums an entire philosophy neatly in one perfect sentence:

I hate the feeling that some new experience is just around the corner, and I can’t get to it.

Perceptive and  insightful words. They go a long way toward describing how I feel about life in general, travel in particular, and about shows as well.

Large or small, there is always something brand new to discover or learn, sometimes good and sometimes bad, sometimes sweet and sometimes bitter. It's what gives life much of its joy to some people, and it's something that's not much more than a bother and pain in the arse to others. I'm admittedly not all that objective in this, but I do have to add that it's my experience that it is far more often the non-explorers who try to let their own feeling of offence persuade the travellers that those who wander really should instead remain in one place, far more than it seemsto be the travellers pressuring the stay-at-homes to go out and embrace the world. Or even to embrace what lies just beyond their own front step.

I wonder if Alan made it to the Gateway Arch. I'd only been in St. Louis one time before this - on a long layover between some now-forgotten here and there -  and we made  our own way to the Arch. It was cool. And I took umpteen pictures of it.

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

Speaking of long layovers, I'm on one of those again here in St. Louis, this one self-inflicted. As much as I do love each experience that lies around the corner, it's way past Middle Ground Time for this wanderer. I was supposed to skip either Kansas City or St. Louis, and did neither. Not that I regret that choice; it would have been such a loss to miss the Sweet KC King, and no way did I want to miss new ground being broken here in St. Louis. So Madison is one new experience that will stay around the corner from me; I'm staying here until my Hotel Greyhound bus leaves for Columbus tonight. I've done my local exploring (and had some fantastic ribs) so far today, and now the nice folks at my hotel are letting me hang about in the lobby and make use of their wireless connection. It seems like the perfect opportunity to do a bit of going on and on.

This is probably a good time to make a moderately discreet comment about comments. Some people have noticed there haven't been any comments to entries here in a while, and I apologise for that, as well as for not explaining. There's been some idiotic nonsense going on with comments here and I was advised to leave them open and not explain while the nonsense was being investigated and resolved, which seems to finally be the case. Unfortunately, part of that "resolution" appears to have wiped about half of the backlogged comments off the books, and I'm even more sorry about that.

I did read all of them, at least I think I did, and in a few days I'm going to put all of the comments I still have in one entry; if you sent one in and it's not there, please feel free to re-submit, and, once again, I am very sorry. There is something very dark and twisted that comes to the surface in some people whenever GBS starts to tour again, something pathological far beyond my ability to understand, and something along these kinds of lines is sadly not unusual at such times. Another folder to file away under Tired Old Crap. And then to shut the file drawer and go someplace where I can give the sun a chance to find me.

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

I don't know how anyone other than the totally blind or the utterly selfish could not see that the show at the Touhill Performing Arts Centre had to be a tough challenge for the band last night. The venue holds 1800; around 400 tickets were sold for this show. They were facing a long drive to Madison after this show - with another long drive back to Columbus after that show - and to top if off, the venue fucked up and neglected to open up orchestra-pit and set up the first two rows of seats, a snafu that created a substantial delay as people tried to figure out where their non-existent seats had disappeared to, only to wind up being for the most part relocated back to much-less-desirable seats (I simply picked out a group of empty seats and sat in one of them...no one ever came to sit there, making me one of the fortunate ones).

Add in that it was clear enough as soon as GBS came out (about a half an hour later than the show had been scheduled to start) that Sean was still feeling under the weather, and you'd have all the elements for what could have been a shitty show, go-through-the-motions on the part of the band, cranky and surly on the part of those who felt they'd had their seats taken from beneath them (counterbalanced, of course, by the giddy delight of those who discovered their "third row" seats were now first row...the best thing about that seat screwup is all of those little boys over on Bob's side who wound up right at the edge of the stage). Looking back at the tiny crowd seated on the floor and those two huge empty balconies looming up above them, it occurred to me that there are all kinds of ways to break new ground.

It could have been a shitty show, but it wasn't. Credit first goes to the crowd, who seemed to feel the need to clap and cheer as if GBS had drawn as many people to the Touhill as GBS deserves. The effect of the small crowd's enthusiasm during the opening numbers made an immediate impression on Alan; it was a bit like watching a sunflower perking up and turning its face toward the warmth of the sun's rays.

Alan led, and the rest more or less followed. It wouldn't wind up being the greatest GBS show ever, but it was so much better than there were many reasons for it to be, sometimes cute and goofy (as when Alan went on at length about how he had kissed Bo Derek during the filming of Orca, and how she had kissed him back, too) and at other times it was genuinely impressive (as when an openly under-the-weather Sean sang an absolutely gorgeous Captain Wedderburn). Bob didn't retreat into stoic sulking; just the opposite. - he was emphatic and energetic and put on a good appearance of being rather bouncy. Murray did his own Rock Star move on top of the (very small) monitor and Kris put his time in at being a roving pest and focusing on keeping up the spirits of those on stage.

Through it all, the little crowd in the big venue clapped and cheered and sang along - admirably so on When I'm Up and their chorus of Lukey, on the Helmethead "Fare Thee Well"s too. And through it alll, Alan looked out with an expression of gratitude on his face. The more they cheered, the harder he played, and that made them cheer even more, so of course he played harderstill. I'm not sure who gave more to whom last night at the Touhill. All I know is that there are indeed all kinds of ways to break new ground, that and you never know what experience it is that's waiting for you around the corner, not until you turn that corner and meet it head on.   

By the time they closed the show with a defiant Straight To Hell and progressed through their usual encores to the final quiet beauty of Old Brown's Daughter, they seemed tired (more tired than I'd normally expect them to be on this short of a run, for all of Alan's "way back when this tour began in Whitehorse"), but far more content with how this night had gone than I could have possibly hoped they might be given how it started. In one conversation with some local people I met who were seeing GBS for the first time, they said they think that the day will come when they are met with disbelieving amazement when they tell the tale of seeing GBS 's first tine in St. Louis as part of such a small crowd since they've no doubt at all that soon GBS will be playing to thousands here. 

I told them I hope it happens, but that on this night at the Touhill, it was my opinion that a few hundred people had given back more to this band than I have seen thousands give back at some other shows. But if there would be thousands who'd respond the way these hundreds did, then I can't wait for the next experience around the corner in St. Louis.

Set List from the Touhill show:

I'm still fooling around with photos from this show, not at all because they're the best photos to be working on in terms of quality - they are most certainly not that...this was another gloomy, dark lighting setup, unfortunately. I am going back on what I said about not beating the dead lighting horse by telling this, but one of the men I was talking to after the show works in the UMSL Psych Department and he asked me if I thought there might be some psychological implications of a band to making themselves nearly impossible to see while on stage. When the shrinks start wondering, it's an issue.

But I liked this show for what it was - if ever one wanted "Courage & Patience & Grit" made manifest before their eyes and ears, this show would be a excellent candidate for such a distinction - so I've been spending some time with these photos. Most suffer from a lack of light and clarity - with the notable exception of the two I started with here, the first when Alan wandered into a spotlight that was not at all set up to shine on him and the second a vision of substance in shadow - and I have been finding a certain amount of metaphorical significance in how they are doing their lighiting, even before my chat with the psych professor. I'm finding something true in the pictures, and truth is as irrefusable as is that new experience waiting around the next corner.

This is the part of the Touhill show that gave me the greatest pleasure, as well as the part within which I saw the most truth.

Alan goes on about how he shared an unforgettable kiss with Bo Derek, when he was nine (but he convinced her he was 14).

Some beautiful acoustic guitar work during Captain Wedderburn.

The Lead-Guitar King.

Murray's Rock Star Moment.

Time for a crowd singalong.

Total command and enigmatic expression, fascination and beauty redoubled. And a strong guitar hand to boot.

Conducting the Bohemian Rhapsody crowd singalong.

Alan plays to the little boys who serendipitously wound up front row.

"God's Flashlight" shines down on Alan....then he and Sean begin to sing "Always look on the bright side of life..."

Heaven On Earth - Straight To Hell With Alan Doyle

Excursion

Alan gives picks to the little boys.

Fire and fury with Fortune.

Then the timeless bliss of Old Brown's Daughter, without flash and then with.

The last lingering moments all by himself at the edge of the stage; Alan blows a parting kiss to the small but splendid crowd.

 

And with that, I am ready to head over to the terminal to catch my bus to Columbus. It is always so much easier to let go of the shitty things when you need to free those hands to reach out for something beautiful. I'm ready for the next new experience that's just around the corner.

One last postscript, speaking of new experiences that should be met and welcomed: I'm still going to the Junos because not to do so would inconvenience two other people. But I will  also say that this year's to-be-broadcast-on-MTV-and-TSN Juno Cup was designed for the pleasure of Alan Doyle, and nobody will convince me that he does not belong there.  He's going to be missed.

"Just Like The Final Movie Scene" - Long Live The Kansas City King (GBS KC show)

I think I have time for a few facts about last night's show, but a few feelings are going to have to come first. As always, I really do plan on more later. Someday soon.

It's not as if I went into last night's Great Big Sea Kansas City show at the Madrid Theatre with any doubts or questions, not as if my opinions and estimation of all the players are not settled and grounded by now. I know who I care about and what matters to me, and why; I didn't come into this from the get-go with very many illusions, and those few I did inadvertently bring with me have more or less been battered into total surrender -"capitulation" being a concept with which I've only recently become reluctantly and inexpertly familiar.

I still hope without limits or boundaries, but I no longer expect much of anything. No, that's not true. I do expect bad treatment; even more, I expect to witness people I care about being treated badly. But I still hope for othewise, part of that idea of no limits or boundaries. It takes a great deal to surprise me these days, especially on the bad-treatment end of the spectrum. But I have also seen so much that is worth caring about and admiring that it takes quite a bit to catch me off guard on the isn't-that-wonderful? end of the spectrum as well.

Last night in Kansas City, I was surprised twice, the first time by the fellow I tend to think of as my favourite McCann when he made what was essentially a chance and offhandedly kind comment in a context within which I have long since given up expecting - sometimes even given up on hoping for - kindness to exist. Of course, I was too much of a fool to tell him this; because he caught me off guard, I got choked up and simply smiled and then turned and then ran, ranaway. I'm not at my best when caught off guard; I suppose few of us are.

Then I was surprised the second time, this the best kind of surprise because it was all about a man who I already think is wonderful being even more so than I thought he would be. I really did not need any more evidence to convince me that Alan Doyle is the man I've thought him to be from the first hello; I was immediately persuaded and have never wavered in that assessment. So even though what Alan did during the show last night was sweet to the point of making me want to wrap my arms around him and tell him how wonderful a man he truly is - and then to get everyone else there to do exactly the same thing in turn - I guess I should see it more as Alan being Alan, rather than as Alan doing something surprising or out of the ordinary. His "ordinary" is extraordinary, and that's pretty much what I was thinking about him last night, and am still thinking that this morning: what an extraordinarily sweet man he can be.

Yes, I am getting mushy. Not much to be done about it. I have a soft spot for little boys of all ages, and when one Big Little Boy reaches out to two Little Little Boys to give them a memory that will last a lifetime, that's definitely going to go straight to my heart, each and every time.

A friend of mine brought her two little boys to the show last night, and her mother had made each little boy a foam-board guitar, one red guitar and one green guitar; they had also made a bright yellow crown for King Alan. It took King Alan all of two songs to notice the two little boys looking up at him, especially the one right in front of him with the green guitar. "That is the coolest green guitar I've ever seen," the King said to the wide-eyed little boy. "If you are going to play guitar, you need picks," the King added wisely, and then he handed each little boy one of his own guitar picks.

A very sweet act by a kind and generous man, but only the beginning. When it came time for Alan to start singing When I Am King, one of the two little boys held up the bright yellow crown that said King Alan on it . King Alan looked down at the proffered gift and he smiled a wide smile at the little boy. Then he reached down to accept his crown. He put it on his head and struck a regal pose, the crowd cheered, and then he looked back down into the adoring face of the little boy and gestured to the boy's mother to boost him up onto the stage.

Alan signed the crown while the little boy stood there on stage with him; Alan asked the boy a few friendly questions - "Is this your first GBS concert?," that sort of thing - but the little boy was too awestruck to reply.

Then Alan did the one thing that shows beyond doubt what a good heart he has. He remembered that there were two little boys - one with a green guitar and one with a red guitar; he looked down into the crowd along the edge of the stage and found the little brother of the boy who was up on stage with him. And he was so thoughtful and considerate - perhaps remembering what it can be like to be that younger brother - that called that boy up on stage with him too, so that the littlest boy would not feel left out.

The very sweetest photo of all is the one where Alan knelt down and put his arms around the two little boys, holding the pose until the pictures had been taken, a look on his face that I don't see how anyone could keep from loving. But since I forgot to ask their mother if I could post shots of her little boys here, and since she's on the road home now  and I still can't ask her, I can't put that shot up, for the same reason that I have had to edit the little boys out of the other pictures. Though this edited photo, taken when the oldest boy first came up on stage, does quite well in showing the face of a man who really could be/should be King Of The World. In my book, at least

Long live the King.

Last photo for today: This is what the guitar of the Littlest Boy looked like after he used Alan's pick all night long, strumming as hard as he could from start to finish of each and every song (even the a capella ones), a strum so energetic and relentless as to remind me quite of bit of Alan's own way with a guitar. The next generation of fast hands and strong wrists, perhaps.

Alright, I have to pack up, so just a very short blurb on KC. The crowd was tiny (200 or so in a 800-capacity venue) but amazingly enthusiastic. Sean was feeling a bit dazed from having taken Alan's and Bob's medical advice and dosing himself on DayQuil, following that dose up with a hot toddy (Sean: "You know how they say you shouldn't mix Dayquil and alcohol? Guess what? You shouldn't!"). It all made for a relaxed and loose show, the feel much like the club/pub shows of earlier tours, though played better than those often were.

I have a set list, but there is one important subsitition and an addition. Instead of Bad As I Am for the first encore, Alan came out with Les and rocked the house with authority when they performed Straight To Hell. And at the very end, for the first time this tour, they did Rant & Roar. It's something special when 200 people manage to sound like 10 times that number singing along.

Since this was a GA show, there was plenty of time to talk to people in line beforehand, something I do miss with the reserved-seat shows, even if I do not miss the actual time spent waiting in line.  There were quite a few there who were seeing GBS for the first time, having come across the music in all sorts of different ways. The universal response after the show - in direct conversation and overheard - was that this one had been spectacular, 200 very happy people making their way out into the Kansas City night. As soon as people find out I've seen a bunch of shows, they always want to know where "their" show falls on the spectrum. I love it when I can answer with absolute honesty that "their" show was a blast.

I love it even more when I can say with absolute honesty that I believe Alan Doyle is about as special as can be. There have been times when I've wondered why in the world it is that so much nonsense and abuse have to go hand-in-hand with the simple act of caring about another person, thinking him to be pretty darn wonderful, and hoping he winds up getting everything that makes him happy. Then I see that same person be subjected to far worse nonsense and abuse, and that makes it all even harder to understand or accept.

Then something like last night happens - carrying with it all of the accompanying wonder that a man who has endured such bad treatment over the years is still capable of being, and willing to, so giving and kind - and I realise all over again that I really don't care about the nonsense and abuse. I think about the look of awestruck joy on the faces of two Little Little Boys, I think about the tender smile on the face of a Big Little Boy, and I remember to care about what matters.

Still, it's not at all bad to be caught off guard and surprised by someone being sweeter, kinder, or more wonderful than you thought he might be. That something pretty darn wonderful in and of itself, something that's fit for a King.

"Tell Me What You Want" Part Two - A Bit More Unashamed Sweetness From Ames, Iowa & Alan Doyle, The Consummate Newfoundland Songwriter

Spring seems to be well underway here.  Yellow grass giving way to eager green.

Lovely.  - Alan Doyle's most recent online journal entry

I haven't gotten much writing or photo editing done yet since I've been distracted by taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in being in one room for two whole consecutive nights. It's been a pleasure bordering on the wanton. I even made it down to the hotel breakfast this morning - the complimentary breakfast I almost always miss because I leave so early to catch a bus that invariably winds up being hours late anyway - and now I am eating oranges and cinnamon rolls, while sipping a cup of Earl Grey. Decadent. 

I won't be getting much done this afternoon, either, since I plan to go over in a bit and wander around leisurely in the cool shopping area (The Plaza, I think it's called) that is a few blocks from my hotel. Absolutely decadent and wanton. I might get more done later tonight, before I have to skip tomorrow morning's breakfast so I can catch another early bus that will likely be hours late. All the more reason to be wanton while I may.

No worries about waiting on the writing, though, since I am still more in thinking mode than writing mode when it comes to what I want to say about a GBS tour which has so far been truly a departure for them in many ways - the increasingly astonishing variety of their set lists being one of those many ways - and I want to be sure I think about all of those ways before I start going on and on about them.

And I will take my best shot at as many of the lyrics as I can make out from the video clip of 1-2-3-4/Here We Go Again. There is one line in this song that is repeated with much effect (in fact, I think this line would itself be a good title for the song): Hold on for your life. A wonderful description of, and advice for, surviving life on the road, and I have to wonder if memories of what happened last year in the GBS tour bus along the highway on the road to Vancouver might be what first put that wonderful line in the mind of a certain accomplished songwriter.

But since I am indeed presently being such a wanton woman, I did indulge myself in a bit more in playing with photos from Ames. I have found out that I had missed the very best image sequence frame of that lovely view I was trying so hard to get, and I've also been working on a few more of the photos, trying to learn how to work with the lighting situation within which GBS currently finds themselves (is that a tactful and discreet enough way to say it?...and is there any discreet way to say "please note spelling of 'discreet'"?), instead of fighting futilely against it. Which is not to say I don't still hope it changes.

Alan's moving Boston & St. John's solo encore from Ames.

Alan working hard singing Excursion, me working hard to get a picture of my favourite view.

Thanks to the  techno-wizardry of video, something very beautiful for sharing.

Who am I to try to outwrite the Master Wordsmith Himself?  I'll just quote him, instead: Lovely.

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

We debuted another new tune, Straight to Hell, a song I wrote in about ten minutes one day at the cabin in Rural Newfoundland.  I was listening to a blues dude on CBC radio and we were singing one of the million tunes about the famous Johnson story of selling your soul to the devil in exchange for the gift of maestro guitar playing.  All of those tunes tell the tale of the depressed walking damned whining his way through life waiting for Satan to collect his debt.  I figure that if you sold your eternal soul in exchange for a mortal life of Rock and Roll, you should frigging well live it up and get the most out of it before the horned dude comes calling. - Alan, online journal

Alan's two most recent online journal entries (still not calling them "FTRs" since I'll keep on stubbornly hoping Alan does not limit his entries to when he is on the GBS road, especially since it looks as if he will be on that particular road much less in the future than he has been in the past) were excellent and enjoyable, especially his impeccably well-written description of the the yellow grass giving way to the eager green of incipient spring that I quoted at the beginning of this entry. Lovely writing, indeed, and a lovely sight to see as well. It has been awhile since I've seen green.

The account of how he wrote Straight To Hell  is much appreciated. This is one hell of a song, pun intended, and in some ways, especially in terms of the song's tone, it makes me think that Alan has been influenced at least a bit by his collaboration with Russell Crowe, assuming, of course that Straight To Hell was written recently; if it predates their collaboration, you could argue that influence in the opposite direction. The speaker in Straight To Hell could be the same fellow who takes the "sodden walk to Jesus" in Russell's and Alan's co-written song Testify, with Straight To Hell continuing the tale to tell where that fellow winds up after his escape from the long arm of the law. There is also something about Straight To Hell's melody line that makes me think of Bruce Guthro's songs. Both comparisons are excellent songwriting company for any songsmith to be keeping.

But most of all, I see Straight To Hell as yet another example - another in a remarkably prolific current wealth of such examples - of what a skillful songwriter Alan himself is, as well as yet another example of the expression of a depth in Alan's writing that I've come to see as being partly characteristic of his being a Newfoundlander, but also something that is unique to his own self-expression and creativity. Straight To Hell is a celebratory, sexy, defiant, arse-kicking tear-the-house-down song; it can be (it will be) enjoyed tremendously based solely on how much delightful fun there is to be found in it.  But I can also hear in the song's lyrics an echo of a hard, serious question that nearly every passionate, committed artist faces, or is faced with, over the course of their lives: "You'd give up almost anything to get what you want, wouldn't you?" The fun is real, and equally real is the thoughtful foundation that underlies the fun.

Dealing with difficulty and struggles by expressing them in terms of celebration and delight is a charactreristically Newfoundland way to accept reality, to embrace reality in a grip that is at the same time a welcoming hug and a wrestling stance, and I suppose it is also often a characteristically non-Newfoundland way to react to such expression by choosing not see the serious and complex issues beneath the dazzle of light that sparkles on the surface of the deep water. Straight To Hell can be enjoyed immensely strictly as hell-raising fun for those who look for no more than this in the song. For those who are more inclined toward taking a longer and deeper look, the song can be glorious fun that has something thought-provoking to say about how we choose to live our lives and what we make of our choices, both the potentials and the consequences of those choices.  All whiles tearing down the house and making that guitar cry out in sheer delight. 

If it turns out that some will never see Alan Doyle's songwriting as having the depth and intelligence and thought that it does have - choosing instead to see what he creates as forever being nothing more than light-hearted, cheerful fun - well, since that exact same response is so common when it comes to those who will not see the same depth and intelligence and thought in Newfoundlanders and their culture, then that consistency of reaction might very well be the single best and most compelling piece of evidence to support my own firm belief that Alan Doyle is the consummate Newfoundland songwriter. Which is not to say that I don't still have high and stubborn hopes for the day to come when both writer and culture are seen and admired and loved for all of the complex, brilliant, turbulent and wonderful wealth of what they truly are.

And he looks gorgeous in that Security hat picture. He looks compelling and demanding and powerful, like a man who is willful and impatient and tempestuous and tough, stubborn and relentless, a rock-star artist who at times acts like an utter pain in the arse. He looks irrefuseable. He also looks like a sweet, adorable ham of a small-town fisherman dude, a lovable, endearing, tender-hearted boy who likes to play Let's Pretend and who is really an utter delight. And still irrefuseable. He looks like Alan. I could quote what Russell Crowe said to him in that inimitably amused and affectionate Russell tone of voice at the Coffs Harbour show when Alan was trying to pretend he was some silly sci-fi personage from behind a welding mask: You are Alan Doyle. Or, again, I could just quote Himself and say all that need be said: Lovely.

Now I am heading off to take my own turn at light-hearted, cheerful fun, as well as wantonness and decadence. I'm going shopping.

"Tell Me What You Want" Part One - With Sweetness and Without Shame In Ames, Iowa

The original plan was to stay in Iowa today and get some work done, but since every bus I've been on so far has been running late - sometimes hours late - the plan's had to be switched. As much as I'd like to stay here another day - I'm beginning to understand why the "Is this Heaven?"..."No, this is Iowa" line from Field Of Dreams after meeting a few dozen of some of the nicest people I've ever come across in less than one day - I decided it's safer for my own schedule to head into Kansas City this afternoon instead. Now, if the bus wants to be late, there's a whole extra day for it to do so.

Not really how I want to spend my day though, so I hope this bus winds up being on time. If it does and if there's nothing irresisitible happening on a Kansas City Monday night within walking distance of my hotel room, then I'll for sure get some writing and photos done this evening, and I'll finally get around to the comments I've not been diligent about, and I do apologise. Email has gone straight to hell too and I'll try to catch up on that.

Which leaves me quite a bit behind with all sorts of things that could be said about Chicago, St. Paul, and maybe most of all, Ames. Not to mention a load of photos that probably won't all see the light of day for some time. All in its own time, but for right now, before I pack up the mess I've made in this room in the short time I've been here, here are a very few pictures I played around with last night after the show, and the beginning part of what I want to say about Ames, the part I don't want to wait to say about Ames, with more to come.

I wound up really enjoying this short time in Ames, Iowa. I was even fleetingly tempted to stay here a much longer time when I saw the Help Wanted sign in the local "Kum & Go" gas station/convenience mart last night. I'd love to work for a time at a Kum & Go, if for no other reason that to be able afterwards to write about that job metaphorically; you could use that metaphor to describe entire periods of the lives some of us have lived through. I'm still not sure how the Kum & Go chain gets away with that name, especially in the Bible Belt; all I know is that every time I pass by one of their signs, it always makes me smile.

There was plenty to smile about in Ames, especially how nice the people are here. One small indication of that took place right before the show started. As people came in and wandered over to the merch table, I saw something happen that I have never before seen at any of the many GBS shows I have been at: each person would walk up to the table and look behind Glenn to check out the display and decide what they wanted, and when they had made that decision, they would promptly and politely walk back to their place at the end of the line that had formed. No pushing, no shoving, no "I'm the centre of the universe and should go first" crap. Just a wonderfully polite (and far more efficient and orderly) line of patient folks. That all by itself would make me think well of Ames, Iowa.

It might have been a small crowd - maybe 450 in a 800-capacity Ames Community Auditorium there for the first-ever GBS venture into this town - but they sang and clapped larger than their numbers. There were many locals there, and also many "sort-of locals" who had come from the wider region, sometimes driving quite long distances (as in 500-1000 miles), to be able to see GBS for the first time. Mix that group in with established GBS fans who had travelled to Ames to see another show, and it made for a very good crowd blend of first-time wonder, have-waited-forever-to-see-you-live excitement, and this-is-going-to-be-as-great-as-it-always-is enjoyment.

Ames was good, and my guess is Ames is likely to get the opportunity to be good again for GBS, especially if they wound up having as much fun at the local pub last night as they were hoping to have.

A glance at last night's set list shows how differently they did their show in Ames, with much more of a focus on the trad songs. Given the circumstances, crowd composition, and venue - and making a final judgement based on how the audience wound up responding - it looked to be a wise call.

There's more to be said about Ames a bit later, but since my time here is rapidly reaching its limit, I want to say the part that is not willing to wait for a bit later. Something happened last night during the show that caught me off guard at the moment, though after thinking about it I figured it out, and why it happened has a lot to do with how special I thought this show was.

For the first encore, Alan came out alone with his guitar, and I was hoping so hard that he would perform Where I Belong, because I very much want to hear it again and because I really would like to get the lyrics for the Russell Crowe fans who genuinely love Russell's music and have enjoyed Russell's and Alan's collaborative work; I had the camera set to video so I could get a file that would be replayable to help me to figure out those lyrics later, without my having to be a distraction by frantically scribbling those lyrics down while Alan was trying to sing.

When he began to play the opening chords for Boston & St. John's, that made sense to me - it was a very good choice for this kind of crowd and it fit beautifully with the pace and tone of their entire show. I decided to go ahead and video Alan's solo Boston, just because I love how he sings it and especially how he plays his guitar during it.

I can't begin to count the number of times I have seen and heard Alan Doyle perform his Boston solo encore - so many times that I am thoroughly familiar with all of the different moods he performs it with on any given night: the pleading Boston, the insistent Boston, the demanding Boston, the wistful Boston, the tender Boston; I love each way he does his song...I love the song.

But because I have been there so many times when he has done Boston, what I did not expect this time was to be suddenly and unexpectedly swept away by a song I have heard those many times - no matter how much I love it and how he performs it, I did not expect to respond that way. It felt a bit like standing on a beach on a calm and sunny summer day with your back to the sea, heedlessly unaware of the calm ripple taking shape as a demanding wave that catches you up and has you off your feet and carried off in its tide before you are sure what has happened to your once-firm footing.

I have only the first part of Alan's Boston on video. This time, the impact of how he was performing this so-familiar song was so strong that I shut the camera off almost without realising it, all of my concentration now turned toward simply hearing and seeing him.Alan is still challenging my descriptivre abilities with how he is coming across during the shows on this tour...in a prior entry here I said he seemed "resolute" to me, and now with this Boston, for now I am going to have to settle for "reconciled"; Alan sang Boston as if he were the Rover who knows and accepts who he will forever be - what he is "bound" to do  - and who offers all that he is and will do up with self-acceptance instead of with excuse - offers himself without apology or regret or shame - hoping to be loved for the man who he is and always will be. It was a masterful performance, absolutely rivetting and moving beyond words, beyond my words, at least.

Part of what gave it even more power was Alan's stage demeanour during this show, the way he had been sweetly self-deprecating with his tale of wandering into the auditorium earlier that morning  during the church service there, how he had slipped into a back seat and stayed for that service, and how he had at first been worried the very large "farmer dude" who came up to him  - a self-described "little fisherman dude" - might be going to tell him to go away. The smile on Alan's face when he went on to explain that the Large Farmer Dude extended a hand to him and welcomed him to the church was so open and honest, and it revealed so much of the man behind the warmth and gratitude in that smile; it felt like an embrace, one that was returned with equal warmth as the sounds of friendly chuckling could be heard throughout the listening crowd. The bonding between the man on stage and the people in the seats was so strong that it felt near-tangible.

Alan continued on in this way throughout the show, his tale about him and Bernie singing each year at the Petty Harbour Christmas Pagaent also clearly eliciting an affectionate response. Even what has been a more or less foolish and offhand joke at other shows - when talking about the recent 14th "birthday" of GBS, Alan says how he has slept with Bob more than he has slept with his wife - was transformed into something honest and self-revelatory because of how he said it on this night, like something that has a wistful seriousness and a fundamental connection to who he is and how he lives his life. Again, it was moving and touching where I was used to expecting foolish and offhand. My guard was down because I was not expecting to be pierced straight through the heart with honesty and truth. 

As I was walking out of the Ames Community Auditorium, two elderly women were making their slow and careful way ahead of me, each holding onto the other's arm for balance and support. They were talking about the show, and when I overheard one say to the other, "Wasn't the boy who came to church this morning an absolute love?" I wanted to shout out "Yes!" in eavesdropping response. Then what the other woman said made me laugh out loud. "I wish I had a grandson half as sweet as that one."

So maybe if I make it an indirect quote from one of the upstanding citizens of Ames. Iowa, I can get away with saying it: Alan Doyle was an absolute love last night in Ames, Iowa.

More about Ames later, as well as the other shows. For now, here are a few photos from the end of the show, most simply sweet and one shamelessly sweet. Feel free to guess which is which.

This first picture was lucky for me, if perhaps not less so for them and their eyeballs - I shot my nonflash shot from up very close during the show-closing Old Brown's Daughter at the split second someone else took a flash photo of them. The rest of the pictures from OBD are taken without piggybacking on somebody else's flash, less crisp and clear to be sure, but a bit less guilt-inducing as well

And this is my shameless photo, or rather this is the photo I was shameless enough to work quite hard to get; actually, it's a video frame, since I am so very shameless that when I realised the stage was too dark for me to get this shot without resorting to flash, and then found even the flash did not get that which I wanted so badly, I decided to video the sequence and hope to get the desired view from an image-sequence frame. And now I am shameless enough to put it up online, because I am shamelessly fond of and delighted by the content of the video frame. To me, it's one of the most lovely (and unfortunately one of the most rare) views a person can be fortunate enough to get a fleeting glimpse of on a GBS stage. It's also one of the views I enjoy the most.

Yes, I know...shameless. Or, perhaps better said, unashamed. Admittedly and unrepentantly so. And at the present moment, gazing at something beautiful, quite happily so as well.

Time to be Goin' to Kansas City, Kansas City, here I come...

"Sick And Tired Of Waiting For Dreams That Never Come" Part Two - Diving Into The Future & Going Straight To Hell With Alan Doyle (St. Paul)

This time I really, truly do only have a very short time since there aren't all that many schedule options for buses to Ames, Iowa. So most of what I'd like to say about the St. Patrick's Day show last night at St. Kate's in St. Paul is going to have to wait with the Chicago show until the off day tomorrow. I can say that it was a sold out crowd that came ready to celebrate (and drank the place completely dry of beer before the close of the intermission) and that it was a fast and furious show, fitting to the celebratory mood of the evening.

People were up and jumping so hard that the temporary flooring beneath the seats in the orchestra pit felt as if it were on the edge of giving up the ghost. The constant motion of the floor wreaked havoc with photo focus, but it did make for one hell of a fun ride. Even more fun was having two people attending their very first GBS show next to me; that's three out of four shows where that's happened, something that makes their shows especially enjoyable for me and, far more important for them, an indication that they are reaching a new group of  show-attenders. More on that next time since I don't have time to go on and on as usual and this is an on-and-on sort of topic.

Sean was especially sweet last night. He mentioned that he had his own "peeps" in the crowd - members of his family by marriage - and their presence made for a performance that was even better than his usual, a performance topped by a beautifully wistful sitting-at-the-edge-of-the-stage Danny Boy. I'm not sure what was up with Bob, and from my far-left angle he was a bit hard to see clearly at times (the lights and especially the fog were better last night than they've been at most other shows, but still not as good as Chicago was). I could hear his playing clearly though, and that was good.

Excellent sound on the instruments this night, amazingly good sound for being so frigging close to the stage. I could finally hear that banjo Alan is playing in Jakey's Gin/Jackey's Jig - it sounds nearly as sexy as Alan looks playing it. Well, not quite that sexy, but it surely does sound good. I'm still  more than a bit bemused by how fond I have suddenly grown of banjo; I have never once before thought of it as an exciting or arousing or commanding instrument, I must say.

Alan had his own special St. Pat's Moment when he led the crowd in Molly Malone, and for the entire duration of this show he looked like he was having about as much fun as he could take without spontaneously combusting.  I could go on and on describing how excited and delighted Alan looked last night, but since I am so short of time, I'll say it succinctly for once: He looked like he was in the exact place his heart and desire most wanted for him to be at that moment in time. He looked like he was where he belongs, and he looked beautiful there. When he tore down the house in the final encore with Straight To Hell, he was spectacular. And he looked even more beautiful and even more like he was right where he belongs.

One more song added to their repertoire this time out: Beat The Drum. I'll put the usual photo of the entire set list up in the next entry and maybe some of the photos I can salvage from the motion blur.

ETA: My memory was not at all reliable in my hurry to catch a bus that wound up being two hours late. And I think I was still a bit dazed by the memory of Straight To Hell. Right after tearing down the house with this song, they ended the show with the blissful beauty of Old Brown's Daughter, off mic and at stage edge. That they could move with such grace and ease from the one moment to the other says more about Great Big Sea, and says it more clearly and succinctly, than I will ever be able to say with my own words. Not that it will stop me from trying.

I'll have to confess that my main reason for doing this entry when I have so little time to catch my bus is that I did finally manage to get the video clip of the (Chicago performance) sizzling and raucous new song Straight To Hell to upload and I wanted to post the link. I've decided it's the only video of any of their songs I'm putting up until after this run of shows is completely over, both legs, though I will put up the lyrics of 1-2-3-4/Here We Go Again next time - partly because I can't resist Alan's great lyrics and partly to help with singing along - and maybe some of the singalongs and spontaneous extras (Alan on Les playing Jesse's Girl while Sean sings...very nice). Oh yes, and if/when Alan does Where I Belong again - it really wouldn't have worked that well in these past three shows, but I have high hopes for Ames - I will  put up those lyrics as well if I can, for the benefit of both the GBS and the Russell Crowe fans, and most of all for those of us who are both.

But no more videos of the songs they're doing, at least not during this tour.They've done some exceptional work with arranging (Bad As I Am is breathtaking to the point of being dizzying) and instrument-playing on the songs (Alan's guitar and Bob's whistle on Captain Wedderburn are superb, Kris's percussion work on Process Man and Bob's fiddle on Walk On The Moon are impressive, and then there's that sexy banjo-playing) both old and new, and all of the new songs are absolutely great. I can feel the awe and amazement in the crowd all around me at each show when people hear these songs, and part of that feeling of awe and amazement in the crowd comes from the fact that they're hearing these tunes for the first time, from them not knowing what to expect and then being blown away by what they hear. I want the men who've worked so hard to achieve that effect of unexpected awe and dazzled amazement to get the full benefit of of all their hard work.

But Straight To Hell is definitely an exception. It just might be the hottest, most exciting and the boldest music GBS has done so far, and Alan is so frigging spectacular singing and playing it that I'd feel ashamed of myself not to share such a delightful treasure as far and wide as it/he deserves to be shared. I believe this song going to blow people away no matter how many times they hear it, that its fire is going to burn with a inexhaustible flame. It's my own personal opinion that whole frigging world needs to hear Alan Doyle and Great Big Sea going Straight To Hell, even better if the whole frigging world can see Alan Doyle and Great Big Sea going Straight To Hell. Here's my small part toward accomplishing that worthy goal:

Straight To Hell, GBS, Chicago 2007 (208 MB,.mov file)

(There was some trouble earlier with this file, but it seems fine now - my thanks for the assistance in making that happen. If anyone has further trouble with it, just let me know and Alan will be right back up again.)

It bears repeating, over and over, again and again: Wow, he's hot. And while we're repeating, how about another Damn, GBS is great for good measure?

I have a bus to catch Straight To Ames.

"Sick And Tired Of Waiting For Dreams That Never Come" Part One - Going Straight To Hell, Walking On The Moon, & Finding Heaven On Earth (Chicago Show)

I'm sick and tired of waiting
For dreams that never come
And games I never played in
But still wish that I had won

Now I'm alive
I've got one shot and I'm takin' it to you
I'm alive
And I realised not a moment too soon
This is my one small step
This is my walk on the moon - Walk On The Moon, Alan Doyle & Gordie Sampson

Love me now while we're alive
It's the best thing we can do
We'll have no time upon Cloud Nine
So Heaven on Earth will have to do
I can sing like a bird and dance like a devil
And I do it all so well
'Cause I made a deal with the devil and when I die
I'm goin' straight to hell. - Straight To Hell, Alan Doyle (or so I'm assuming)

"For dedicated fans, it's going to be a real walk way back in the past and a real dive into the future,'' he said.

The new music probably won't be released on recordings until early 2008, and Doyle said he sees it being rowdier than anything the group has done. Each song will still come from members' personal experience, however.   -  Interview with Alan Doyle, Kalamazoo Gazette, March 11

I just begged my way into an early check in at my hotel after what's been a very long night, first at an absolutely jam-packed Chicago Greyhound terminal - the Friday night that's starting spring break for a lot of people, I suppose - complete with the expected short tempers and even-more-expected schedule delays; then an even-longer overnight bus ride here on an equally jam-packed bus. I need to shower, sleep, eat - and so of course I am sitting here writing instead.

And I am also trying as hard as I can to get the video file of Alan's incendiary new song Straight To Hell uploaded despite my dubious connection. (I'm assuming this is Alan's tune, though it could be another co-write...actually, this one sounds a lot like Russell Crowe could have something to do with it, at least in terms of influence if not actual writing). It probably won't work, but I'm still going to keep stubbornly trying. There is no way anyone should have to wait any longer than can be avoided to hear this amazing song, though I have to say it's been worth the five years of waiting I've done to hear it. Even that's not so bad compared to how long Alan has been waiting to play this song - this kind of song - out on a Great Big Sea stage.

When Alan  used the word "rowdy" to describe some of the new music, he wasn't shitting. "Rowdy" is an understatement for Straight To Hell. My Dad had his own expression to describe a song like this one: Almost as good as a great roll in the hay. Not too many songs have the requisite intensity and impact to rise to such a standard, but Straight To Hell does it without doubt or hesitation. Ass-kicking, balls to the wall, sizzling, raucous, arousing...it's pure rock and roll, as purely good as rock and roll gets. Which is, in my own estimation, as good as it can possibly be.

I cannot wait for this song to get radio airplay - and it most certainly could and should get that airplay - to overhear the debates that will ensue as people try to figure out who the hell that is rocking out with such passion and heat:

- I know I recognise that voice, but I can't figure out who the hell that is.

- I don't know, but it sure sounds like Alan Doyle's voice.

- Alan Doyle? Alan Doyle from Great Big Sea? No fucking way, man! No way GBS does rock music. Listen to that guitar wail. Listen to that guy belt. He's singing about living and loving and getting it all now, then going to hell because he sold his soul to the devil.  No way that's the Newfie folk band doing that song.

- Yeah, I hear you, man. It sure sounded like Alan Doyle though. Cool tune, isn't it?

- Yeah, man, it fucking rocks.

Straight To Hell does rock - it fucking rocks, man - and one reason it rocks so much is because of the what kind of song it is and how Alan sings it and how all of them play it. Another reason Straight To Hell rocks is because it is Great Big Sea doing this song that goes so far beyond the constraining limits of what kind of music GBS is expected to do, as well as not to do. That part of it rocks my world as much - well, nearly as much - as does the sight and sound of Alan making that guitar wail and belting out those gloriously and defiantly impassioned lyrics.

If what I am seeing of Great Big Sea over the past three nights of this tour is truly the future as they are going to shape and direct that future, then the future is going to be more wonderful than anything I'd dared to hope for. The music they're doing - old and new - is a delightful blend of the best that they can be, all of the many different kinds of the best that they can be, and even better than the music is the definite feeling to these shows that they are now playing what they genuinely want to play, that they are moving away from being constrained by external expectations and accepted routines. 

When this tour was first announced, my initial assumption was it would be a re-tread of the shows from TH&TE tour, a way to bring that music and sell that CD in a few new markets and get paid decently while so doing. I thought they'd be a ways from starting to plan a new GBS CD, especially since the winter months are usually popular months to vacation away from St. John's and it's been pretty well known  (at least in ever-gossipy St. John's) that Alan's been away for some time in the Bahamas. Given what I'd expected from this brief U.S. tour, I'd have been perfectly happy just to see them doing exactly what they'd done last year so long as they were having fun doing it.

Stopping to think for a moment about what they actually have done so far - and I have been thinking about this all during this past long night, this and so many other things that follow after it - to call it "impressive" is nearly as much of an understatement as is "rowdy" for Straight To Hell. In the course of just three shows, these are the songs that GBS has performed (the first batch is also the Chicago show set list):

Whistle/Billy Peddle
Donkey Riding
When I'm Up
Jack Hinks
Walk On The Moon
Paddy Murphy
Sea Of No Cares
Charlie Horse
Scolding Wife
How Did We Get From Saying I Love You
Captain Kidd
Jackey's Jig (Jakey's Gin)
Old Black Rum
Ordinary Day
1-2-3-4/Here We Go Again
I'm A Rover
Shines Right Through Me
Penelope
When I Am King
Helmethead
General Taylor