A funny thing happened on the way to the John Prine Songs And Souvenirs thing.
No recording, please.
That poses an existential threat to me since I’m there to do exactly that.
It happens; this wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. There’s a reason why I ask for permission to do exactly that in the first place. That little moment of agreement (or lack thereof) is not a fan boy thing, it’s a context marker, an element of my memory of the event. It usually spawns a conversation and often slightly changes the trajectory of the artist’s presentation of the evening.
And sometimes it doesn’t.
My favorite justification for “no” (and I don’t ask for one) is “aw jeez, man, we kind of suck right now”.
Those two guys did not suck. They delivered a very professional show that was paced brilliantly and they sounded great and their song selections were interesting. I wish I would have returned to my origins and produced a hand made set list because I’d like to study it, but I didn’t and now have to rely upon memory. Sometimes that’s a handicap.
In the absence of the Taper’s Table (the no recording provision was in the contract), I wise-cracked “fine, I’ll go sulk in the back corner booth”-I kinda like it there anyway. That placed me between Chip Albright and Todd Partridge, two singers in their own rights, and the audience was regularly encouraged to sing along. If you’re me, you can do worse.
So, much as I’d like to tackle a review of the night, I tried that once in 2019 for a site that looks like it’s still there and thriving, but that wasn’t for me. They published the review, but aw man, I kind of sucked in that one.
