"Heaven On Earth Will Have To Do" Part Two - Embracing The Serendipitous & The Unforseen, With Help From Russell Crowe's New Film; Photos & Videos From The GBS Rogers Show At The Glacier
ETA: I could just wait till the next entry to say what I foolishly forgot earlier today, since that next entry should be fairly soon, given that I've got the house here to myself for the next week, lots of quiet time to get work done - if the weather stops being so lovely, that is. But some things are too cool to wait even a short time to say: After the Borderline and Tønder shows, this blog was googled repeatedly by those searching to hear/see more of Straight To Hell, nearly all of those search requests originating in Europe; now, after the Glacier show, what I am seeing is multiple searches here for Walk On The Moon, and nearly all of these hits are now coming from Canada...more specifically from Newfoundland, I'm assuming. (Note to the searchers: Check out the righthand column here for video links to Walk On The Moon and Straight To Hell, along with so much more.) Now that is cool. Perhaps I need to give some in that Glacier crowd much more credit and respect than was my initial inclination.
I debated for all of about 2 minutes whether to begin with the words or with photos of the most beautiful and persuasive man I've ever seen reign over any and all stages. But since this entry is all about acknowledging the wonderful and the amazing and about embracing the serendipitous and the unforeseen, all while making a path through the midst of the challenges and the constraints of the Real World, it really wasn't much of a debate.
I suppose this entry has now become about the gorgeous and the sexy as well. What odds.
A few more photos from the GBS Rogers show at the Glacier and a collection of video download links - including a General Taylor from Sean worthy of making his Mom proud and a Clearest Indication from all of them that certainly made me proud - after a few of those debate-losing words.
**********************************************************************************************************************************
Isn’t it funny how comics are often the only ones unafraid to call it like it is. Their funniest material is the stuff that is closest to the God honest Truth. Interesting. - Alan Doyle, August 30th Journal Entry
He's not what I expected. - Alice Evans commenting about Ben Wade, a line from Russell Crowe's new film, 3:10 To Yuma (September 7th release in North America - I caught a preview on Sunday night here in St. John's).
I believe in serendipity; I believe in the unforeseen. The original plan for the trip to Europe included staying a week or so after the close of the Tønder Festival, spending some time journeying across England and into Wales, the country which is a significant root of my own family tree; we planned to fly back on September 2nd via Astraeus Airlines, but when Astraeus cancelled that day's flight and Air Canada reacted by increasing their own fare by a ridiculous amount, we had to forego Wales and come back to St. John's on the only other available Astraeus flight that worked for us, the one on August 30th. At first I was keenly disappointed by the loss of Wales, but when I found out about the GBS show planned for September 1st at the Glacier in Mt. Pearl, there was serendipity once again coming to the rescue.
And as it so often seems to work out, serendipity came accompanied by the unforeseen. I walked into the Glacier with a head still filled with images of and impressions from those most recent shows - images of giddy delight and impressions of unfettered possiblities - and with a heart still beguiled and bedazzled by the hope and the promise of What Might Be. In next to no time at all, both head and heart were sent crashing into What Is. Disconcerting and disorienting, but still as familiar as Home.
What I had seen in Europe was what I love the most about Great Big Sea and Great Big Sea shows. What I saw at the Glacier on Saturday night was a mixture of what I love the most and what I find the most troubling about their shows, hope and possibility and promise all tangled up in expectation and limitation and demands.
I walked out of that show puzzled and perturbed, more than a bit shaken. There are times I am convinced that Great Big Sea is less than the sum of its parts, times I am sure that each of the men who comprise that collective entity could do more and be more outside of and away from the boundaries and constraints imposed on them by the selfishness and shortcomings of others. There are times I am not at all fond of many if not most of those who would likely call themselves GBS's biggest fans.
I didn't know it at the time, but I was due for another double shot of serendipity and the unforeseen.
Sunday evening, I went to a sneak preview of Russell Crowe's new film, 3:10 To Yuma. I went expecting to enjoy it: Russell is an unparalleled actor whose choice in film roles is impeccable, and I'd enjoyed the original film version of this Elmore Leonard story. What I had not expected was a film that would intrigue me, challenge me, haunt me...I had not expected a film that would encourage me toward an answer to what was still puzzling and perturbing me from the night before, what has been puzzling and perturbing me for a long time now.
3:10 To Yuma is that rarest and most precious of commodities - a subtle and sophisticated Western, so much so that I am not at all sure how much that subtlety and sophistication will be appreciated or perhaps even acknowledged by those who go to see it. The peformances are excellent, but what fascinated me the most was how the world in which the film's action takes place is depicted - as a world of narrow horizons and limited possibilities, a world populated by more than its fair share of jackals and hyenas, a world within which choices are few and impact is fleeting.
In one pivotal scene, Russell's character, "Bad Man" Ben Wade is engaging in postcoital conversation with a singer/saloongirl, and he suggests that they run away together clean out of that world - jump out a back window and head off across the border. She laughs at him and calls him crazy, and for one split second, one timeless moment, there's a flash of disappointment on his face that cuts straight to the heart. In 3:10 To Yuma, there's no escaping from the Real World, let alone any changing or saving that Real World; each character must do the best he can - bad man and good man alike - to make his way along a difficult and unyielding road, to the point of offering up all he has as no more than a gesture aimed toward having some positive meaning for or impact on another. The line between futility and hope is as sharp and as deadly as a knife edge in the Real World of 3:10 To Yuma.
I walked out of that theatre lost in thought - no higher recommendation than that from me when it comes to a film - and I have been thinking more about it all the past few days. Serendipitous and unforeseen as it was, what I got from the film has become a part of what I am thinking about the experience of the European GBS shows and how that experience connects to the shows that came before and the shows that follow after.
I loved how GBS played their shows in Europe. It felt powerful and balanced and blessedly free. Most of all, I loved how Alan was in Europe. From the first time I ever saw Alan Doyle, I've believed he could do most anything he set his mind to doing; at these shows, it sure seemed as if Alan was thinking of himself the same way, as if he too believed anything and everything might be possible. That's what made the return to hearing idiotic assholes shrieking for Old Black Rum and listening to little twats planning out their attention-getting maneuvers - along with being in the midst of a crowd largely invested in keeping GBS as their own personal Good Time Band - so fucking difficult to accept. Add on the fear generated by the sight of drunken louts climbing up on and taking over the stage. Top it all off with the putrid drivel presently being bandied about on the GBS message board. It made me wish for a back window to jump out of, a path of escape that led to a little pueblo on the other side of some border far and away from the boundaries of this Real World.
But as wonderful as it was in Europe, that isn't the Real World Of GBS, not yet at least. It's not where their CDs or their show tickets are going to be purchased in any pertinent numbers, not yet at least. The Real World that GBS lives in, the Real World that they create and play and sell their music in, isn't a place unencumbered by expectations and limitations and selfish demands. Not yet, at least. The Real World of GBS is a place where they have to make their ways in the midst of drunken assholes, scheming twats, neurotic nutcases, smug bigots, and the generically repugnant - a world in which they do the best they can in the face of those who presume to decide for them what it is they are capable and incapable of achieving. From what I have personally witnessed, it's my belief that in the Real World Of GBS, the knife-edge line between futility and hope can cut straight to the bone.
As ever, though, it is a knife with a double edge. When I think about what they are still capable of creating in their music and in their shows - regardless of boundaries or limitations or the entire spectrum of assholiness that so often surrounds them - when I recall the power and the magic, the sweetness and the laughter, the passion and the energy, that's when I realise that no matter what it is that Great Big Sea might possibly be one day in some New World, or even what they might never be in any Future World, what GBS is today in this Real World is still something wonderful and amazing, something rare and precious in its own right. Not to mention serendipitous and unforeseen.
********************************************************************************************************************************
Another original plan hijacked by circumstance: I'd originally intended to write first about Alan's most recent journal entry, and then to go back and work on shows - including pictures and video links, both of which I have in delightful abundance - in order of occurrence. But I couldn't get this most recent show out of my thoughts, especially not after seeing Russell's new film. I kept thinking about that Other World, the jumping-out-the-back-window world, and comparing it to all that's to be found, a large portion of it shitty and disheartening, in this Real World. But before going into detail about all that was wonderful and amazing about that Other World, it seemed timely and appropriate, perhaps even needful, to first be sure never to lose sight of how much of the bright and the beautiful there is to be found in the Here And Now, along with all of the hope of more to come as they shape and craft and create the music for their new CD and for their own Real World Yet To Come.
So first up is some of that bright and beautiful from the Rogers Glacier show; not all of it, by any means, and nothing approaching a real review or report of that show - that will come later, back in its proper order, probably much later, given my accustomed pace. For now, I won't say much beyond how good a show the players put on in spite of some serious audience shortcomings, with a quick aside to add that while I thought the Food Bank connection was an excellent decision on Rogers' part, some of the other decisions made for this show were much less laudable.
A good deal of the blame for what this show's crowd lacked is directly attributable to the slipshod manner in which Rogers set up the seating, pissing off half their crowd by not telling anyone in advance that the two middle floor sections were "VIP Only" and pissing off the other half the moment GBS came out on stage and that still-angry (and by now inebriated, in the case of too many) first half said "Fuck this" and simply pushed in front of those centre-section erstwhile-VIPs. Then there is the abysmal choice of security employees; whoever it was who was stunned enough to make that choice should be in search of a new job today.
One last quick note before heading into the bright and the beautiful of the Real World Of GBS: Hats off to the GBS technical crew for this one...no obscurant pools of inky darkness on this stage, no muddled or muffled sound doing injustice to the music, and perhaps most of all, a truly impressive job done by Andy, all by himself as instrument tech for the evening. I never once saw Alan re-tuning an instrument Andy handed to him, and that's a sure sign of a job well done.
Now onward to more of the bright and the beautiful...
Video download links from the Rogers Glacier show:
Great Big Sea, Clearest Indication, Rogers Glacier Show, Mt. Pearl/St. John's, 2007 (195 MB - beginning edited to remove adjacent idiocy)
A few more photos from this show for now, with the full set to come later.
The caption that leaps to mind for this photo is "Daddy On The Drum Kit".
Hey, look at Murray in the spotlight.
Sean makes a valiant effort at pacifying the clamoring jerks.
Everyone loves Smiling Alan, myself included. But Smiling Alan is only one of so many other Alans there for the loving, and it is some of those other Alans who are the loveliest and most dear to me: Wary & Thoughtful Alan, right after security has finally removed the idiot interlopers from the stage; Wearily Triumphant Alan, who has just run a furiously paced race to the end of Mari Mac; and perhaps most of all, perhaps even more so than the ever-endearing and loveably sexy Rock Star Guitar God Alan, there is Heart-Upon-His-Face Alan, the man whose passion and desire, gratitude and need, make him impossible to resist or refuse.
This final Alan is the man I trust to find a path toward his Heaven On Earth, in this or in any other world. Unlike Alice Evans on Ben Wade, this man is exactly what I've expected from the first hello - forever blessedly serendipitous, even if not one bit unforeseen.
********************************************************************************************************************************
Next up, Alan's journal entry, Bob's entry too, and the beginning of the European travels in earnest.
Hey Lynda! I loved the GT video! Of course Sean made his mother proud. If it's not asking for too much could you some day make a video close up during one of Sean's songs?
Sean's drum pic is great! You got stunning pics of Alan but what in the world does the boy have in his pockets? Or is he just happy to be home? ;P !
Do you think music fans in Europe generally less fucked up than the ones here or is it only the GBS fans? I agree the OKP has gotten disgusting and stupid. My daughter's word for it is forgettable. The OKP is forgettable. I bet the guys think so too.
RCs movie opens on Friday and it's a western? I've got a happy hubster and a date for the movies this weekend. :)
Have fun in Newfoundland!
L.
Posted by: Laura | 05 September 2007 at 04:10 PM
Hi Laura - first up, apologies about your other comment I seem to have lost somewhere by the wayside. I really do have trouble keeping up when I travel. I did take some travel/tourist pictures and will get them up eventually.
If things had gone according to set list at the Glacier, you'd have that closeup video of Sean. When I heard them working on Turn during sound check, I decided I wanted to get a video of Turn and General Taylor both, if they did both songs (usually, it's one or the other). I had a hunch that there might be special guests in this audience.
I got GT, not close up because of how much Sean moves around during that song (tracking movement makes a video a bit dizzying, I have learned), and kept waiting and waiting for Turn, same as I kept waiting and waiting for Straight To Hell. Both got scratched from the set list, sadly but understandably.
The next time I'm in a video-acceptable situation and Sean does Turn, or maybe John Barbour or Sweet Forget Me Not or Love or some other song that is not Paddy Murphy or Rover, I'll see about getting a closer view of him on video.
I was wondering about Alan's pockets too, given my own penchant for a wandering gaze. Perhaps his car keys? Home show, after all.
I haven't seen enough of European fans of any ilk for too much generalising, but my somewhat-cynical instincts tell me that Fans Are Fans All Over The World (with apologies to Paul Simon for lyric-altering), GBS and otherwise. I sure saw plenty of fan nonsense over there in regard to Runrig and Bruce Guthro. The chick in Renaissance-Faire-type garb who kept billowing herself back and forth along the side trying to get Bruce to notice her was a pip. Then there was the chick decked out in the exact same outfit and makeup for days on end, presumably so the guys would "recognise" her. The utter paranoia that suddenly exploded behind me in regard to the "special section" up front at Loch Ness sounded hilariously familiar.
The overall sullen "Piss off and go away" message sent by some of the regulars toward any new fan (and potential competitor for attention) was oh-so-familiar as well, and doubly amusing when I watched some of the most sullen message-senders among them trying as hard as they could to push up front for GBS.
There was some GBS-fan nonsense too. The loudmouth Ontarian bitch at the Borderline who kept telling the locals that GBS really wasn't all that big in Canada (they only have the same 200 people who see them over and over in Ontario, per her...our unsolicited comments about Molson shows shut her flapping mouth up quick enough) was a pain in the arse, and then there were those determined lingerers in the tent after the second GBS Tonder show who didn't seem to believe that all we were doing was having a leisurely pint while waiting for the downpour to end, a equally hilarious bit of GBS-style paranoia.
The hard-faced silver-haired Grandmother who apparently started the frigging stampede past the poor little security guard was a Runrig fan (no clue at all who started the accompanying stampede on the other side) but that action took place at a GBS show, so I'm not sure how to classify that one. File it under General Bad Fan Behaviour, I suppose.
It was all the same kind of fan silliness, just so much less of it than I have grown accustomed to in regard to GBS, mostly because GBS hasn't been around European fans enough for the "addiction" to get ahold of all that many. And GBS's trophy-value is not yet high enough over there to trigger the same level of dogged pursuit for attention from those predators whose self-worth (and even their self-identity) seems to be wrapped up in the acquisition of more attention-from-on-high than somebody else who wants the same is getting that takes place on this side of the Pond with GBS.
If GBS played Europe regularly, my guess is it would be pretty much the same old song there as it is here (same goes for Runrig if and when they play North America); that is, unless perhaps something fundamental about GBS themselves were to change. Maybe, at least in terms of some of the neurotic GBS-exists-to-make-me-happy shit, such a change might make somewhat of a difference. Then again, maybe not, especially not when it comes to the hardcase attention-predators, who are everywhere...they dress alike, they act alike, they talk alike, they even tend to look alike...like Clones For A Bad Cause. And they all have the exact same voracious gleam in their eyes. By their gleam shall ye know them (do I need to make apologies for altering Biblical references?), on any continent or with any band (or actor); it's a hungry look, if not necessarily always a lean look (now apologising to Shakespeare), that's a dead giveaway every time.
But I am sure that the same good people, the kinds of fans who come to enjoy the music and to give back in applause and appreciation (and, hopefully, in CD-purchasing), were at all these shows as well, because, as ever, the majority of people behaved with class and consideration, equally as consistent in their own ways as are the inevitable pursuers and the inescapable attention-seekers.
I was lucky enough to meet a few of those admirable kind of fans while in Europe - in particular some Danish fans of good music in general (ranging from a sweet little 15 year old girl who adores Alan - with a mother who thinks the same of Sean - all the way to a fellow who went to (the original) Woodstock and even saw the Beatles play in Amsterdam, along with having been at the very first Tonder Festival) - and to run into a few good folks from our prior visit, and I appreciated those meetings there just as much as I appreciate it here. May the numbers of those kind of people in GBS audiences increase on both Pondsides.
What I do know for sure is that these shows felt great to me this time around, and I hope it felt even better to them. If so, that's good enough for me in the here and now.
"Forgettable" sure works for me. Your daughter's a smart girl. She takes after her Mom.
To the best of my knowledge, 3:10 To Yuma opens across the US on the 7th. I think in Canada too. Have a great movie date - I think you'll both love this one. I'm planning on seeing it again when Christina gets back in town. Might even head to the theatre sooner than that and then go see it for the third time when she gets back.
I promise to have a wonderful time while here. I love making promises that are easy to keep.
Lynda
Posted by: lynda | 06 September 2007 at 07:42 AM
GBS was brilliant at Beat The Drum. I get the distinct impression you don't think much of fans!
Cheers,
Paulie
Posted by: P. Martin | 06 September 2007 at 01:07 PM
Hello, Paulie, and thank you for the comment. I agree that GBS was brilliant at Loch Ness, and I was quite impressed with Runrig too, even after having been out in the rain so many hours by the time they took the stage. It takes a really good show to make me forget that my feet have been wet for 15 hours, and Runrig did just that.
Some of my closest friends today are people I met through fan connections. There are fans I like, Paulie. I just don't like predators, especially when their prey happens to be somebody I care about. And I have come to find the self-obsessed - a group which does seem to be disproportionately represented within fan circles - thoroughly boring in their endlessly and relentlessly repetitive solipsism.
But there are still good people to be found in most any group, including fan groups, even when it's the needy/greedy shitheads making the most noise. Sometimes you have to look a bit harder to notice those good people, to find them right there behind the loud and pushy ones who act as if the spotlight belongs to them, not to the performers up on the real stage. I've met some truly great people by looking behind and beyond the it's-all-about-me ones.
My main point was to try to answer Laura's question as to whether I thought there was any fundamental difference with fans in Europe as compared to fans in North America, and that answer was intended to come across as "Not really, not so much as I could tell". If that wasn't clear, then the fault is mine, and I'll try to write it better in the future.
I hope you get to see GBS again sometime soon, Paulie. Maybe I'll be able to do the same with Runrig one of these days.
Lynda
Posted by: lynda | 07 September 2007 at 02:40 AM