Charlottesville (Day II) “Summer’s Gone” Tour Report
Exhale… it’s Sunday. Today, I rest. I’m still in Charlottesville, back in the UVA computer cluster with my cousin. I’m much, much worse for the wear. Same clothes as Friday. Dehydrated (sympathetic dehydration — there’s a draught in the region despite Isadore’s recent rainfall). Head ache. You get the picture.
It’s the basic residual affects of collegiate life. I think we finally trailed
off into a Best Western slumber around 5:20 a.m., filled to the gills with Nilla
Wafers, Newcastle Brown Ale and numerous unidentifiable shots created by the
benevolent Buddhist Biker Bar staff.
Last night’s show was very interesting, very different, and at times very
difficult. I was on a small stage on the patio. I looked up during the first
song to see the crescent moon rising through the leaves. Not one but two trains
rumbled just behind the bar during my set. It was surreal at times. The
atmosphere at the venue was a challenge. College kids probably don’t want to be
turned on to some new singer/songwriter at 12:30 on a Saturday. Especially one
who sings about broken hearts, broken homes, and broken promises — even if all
the songs have a happy ending. But I persevered, peppering the set with covers
(“Let It Bleed,” “Pictures of Matchstick Men,” “Here Comes Your Man,” “Brown Eyed Girl”) and won over a fair number of unwitting patrons. I had a few young coeds doing their best dancing nancy, spinning around all Grateful Dead like. I sold some CDs. Mission accomplished.
The real fun came afterwards — I finished at 1:45, fifteen minutes after last call — hanging at the bar with the staff: Jeremy, Dewey, Matt, Dan, and a few other randoms singing along to Billy Joel and Hall and Oats and consuming all sorts of strange drinks. Luke and I fell outa’ the Buddhist around 4, ditched the rental and traipsed across campus looking for more food, more fun, more drink. No success. So it was back to the Best Western, Nilla Wafers, etc., and off into a short but deep sleep. This morning, er, this afternoon, we refueled on eggs and pancakes at The Tavern, I’m gonna’ pick up some UVA shwag, and head south through the rolling green hills towards North Carolina.
This whole mini-tour thing’s been interesting. A learning process, to be sure. It’s been lonesome at times. And (as Radiohead say) meeting people isn’t easy. But I feel like it’s making me stronger somehow, surviving all of this uncertainty, rolling with the variables, finding my way through the South. It’s exhausting, bone tiring. And arguably less rewarding emotionally (and certainly financially) than I might have thought. But in every town, there are a handful of people who “get it,” who appreciate it, and who make this whole thing worth while. ‘Cuz it’s not about Me, it’s about Us.
Charlottesville “Summer’s Gone” Tour Report
It’s 70 degrees, sunny and beautiful, but my cousin and I are bathed in weak AC, bad floursecent light and the hum of hundreds PCs here in the outside the UVA computer cluster getting our marketing plan together for tonight’s Charlottesville show. Of course, it was supposed to be last night’s Charlottesville show.
It was a 4+ hour drive up and over from Raleigh. The sun was out much of the way, but some residual Isadore cloudburst rendered I-64 unnavigable for a while, so I pulled over and sat it out. When I finally got back on the road, and the sun burned off the gray, I started scribbling a new song, “Good Things” on a scrap of paper perched precariously on the steering wheel. I was motivated by a comment my former music teacher, Mr. Vandeslice, made to my brother after hearing my CD and seeing my show in Philly Monday night. He thought that my lyrics were depressing. Which is kinda’ funny to me, and kinda’ true. Of course, I’m always looking on the bright side of things in the songs, despite the darkness. To me, they’re all a variation of “The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow.” But apparently Mr. Vanderslice wasn’t in tuned into that minutia. So anyway, “Good Things” is nothing but: all optimism, all about being in love and making it work and bridging the miles and appreciating just how lucky we are. Can’t wait to record it and get it to Mr. V!
So I got to into town around 5, checked into my Ramada Inn (so swank), then went for a run around the beautiful historic campus. It’s exactly what college should be like: rolling green hills, old brick buildings with white columns and domes. Bustling and beautiful. Then Luke and had some sushi and got our shiznit together for the show.
Long story short, we walked into the bar around 10:00 with the gear and such. Apparently, bands typically perform on the patio. It was pouring, so that wasn’t happening. “Rained out,” Jeremy the bartender said before apathetically walking away. They had already sent home a bunch of folks who came all the way from Richmond to see me play. I kept smiling, despite my urge to throttle the guy. We got the booker on the phone, and spoke with the manager, and seem to have arranged a show for tonight. Whether it rains, or another band’s there (though they assure me it’ll be fine) I will play a set. So we’re making some flyers here to hand out at UVA’s RocknRally (featuring OAR, Skinnee J’s) to get some extra folks out, and we’re gonna’ take another stab at rockin’ Charlottesville.
P.S. If you’re in the Chapel Hill area on Monday, I’ll be on WSOU-FM in Elon, NC, doing a little in-studio performance and interview. If you’re not going to be in the area, rest assured I’ll tell ya’ all about it here in The Daily Journal.
P.P.S. If you haven’t purchased the “Summer’s Gone EP” yet, please click on “Buy CDs” and do so!
Raleigh/Durham “Summer’s Gone” Tour Report
Breakfast at the La Quinta Inn: Raisin Bran and Mello Yello. I looked down at USA Today just now and thought, “What day is it? Where am I?” Ooooh, right. Raleigh/Durham. North Carolina. Friday morning. Ok, allgood. Everything in it’s right place.
This time yesterday morning, everything looked pretty bleak. I was exhausted. My brother dropped off the tour. I had a 450 mile drive down I-95. And it began raining. But I had a show to do, so I pointed the Escape south around 10:30, and got to it. The interstate was obviously lame and ugly and choked with traffic. It was a white out for a good portion of the drive. Pretty unfun. I listening to Joni Mitchell’s “Blue” a few times, some Elton John, Incubus, REM, Coldplay. I listened to Colin Powell, Madeline Albright and Henry Kissinger debating the potential of war with Iraq on CSPAN. While the hawkish tone is larming, at least there’s an iota of dialogue. Also listened to lots of NPR. Drank lots of coffee and Gatorade. And about 6:30, I pulled into Raleigh as the blue sky actually broke throught the clouds.
My friend Jyl from high school hooked me up with the show. She works at a 96 Rock, which I was listening to on the way into Raleigh, all 50,000 watt flamethrowing radio towers and big radio voices. Just as I drove past the venue, a bar called Ruckus on the NC State campus, the 96 Rock DJ was like “We’re gonna’ be out a Ruckus Bar later on. 9′ til 11 with the Bottom Dollar Blues Band! Dancing on the bar guaranteed!” I was like, “Fuuuuuuuuck. This is gonna’ be weird.”
So I get to the hotel, ‘cuz I got nothin’ left in my cell phone. I call Jyl. She tells me I’m opening for the Bottom Dollar Blues band and everyone’s excited and that she and her roommate’ll be right over to pick me up. So I grab my guitar and start cramming “Let It Bleed” and “Hide Your Love” and all these rocknroll covers thinking that these folks don’t wanna’ here me cover The Pixies and all my sensitive stuff, but Jyl and Jessica show up and we gotta’ roll.
We walk up to the place — it’s a bar and pizza joint — and there are 96 Rock banners and a 96 Rock 4×4 and radio folks everywhere. Jyl inreoduces me around to all these nice people, the owner and manager and stuff, and everyone’s smilin’ and being so cordial, and the place is already rockin’ at 8:30. So I set up, and Andymon — who is doing remotes from the bar — gets on stage and does the big radio voice, “Hello Raleigh! All the way from Hell’s Kitchen, New York City!” etc etc and just whips ‘em up and then, bam! I’m on, in this crowded, smokey, rockin’ little bar where people are kinda’ listening, but not entirely. There’s a Florida State football game on. There’s video trivia at the bar. You get the idea. So I come on as fast and loud as rhythmic as I can with “Play” then “Interstate” then “Difference” then The Replacement’s “I Will Dare.”
I was just doin’ my best to project over the din, and keep it rockin’. And miraculously, people were boppin their along and smiling and whoopin’ it up. I was kinda’ amazed, ‘cuz I was so wound up about a potentially hostile bar crowd. But these folks were pullin’ for me from that start, so I just stood up there, kinda’ laughin’ to myself havin’ a good ole’ Paul Westerberg kinda’ night. I (not surprisingly) skipped the quiet stuff, though I did sneak in “Dear Elizabeth,” which went over well. As did “California.” Then the manager, Ryan, popped up on stage to whip into an encore frenzy, and I launched into “Summer’s Gone” (with the “Yellow” intro, which always gets people smiling and nodding knowingly) and nail it at 110%.
So I stepped off stage, sweating like mad, Ryan hands me a shot of Jaggermeister, all these nice people flood around me being so kind, so complimentary, buyin’ CDs and askin’ about the next show, signing the mailing list. And it’s so allgood. I’m having such a good time. I go outside and sit a while with all these new friends — Jessica (who found my CD online months ago and has been encouraging me to play the south), 96 Rock’s Andymon and Brad and Jyl, Elizabeth, Kara, Neil — talkin’ about the South and New York City and music and life and it’s like a college party. People are partying hard. They buy me beers. Dinner. And at some point (the endpoint), Andymon suggests we shotgun at Budweiser. So there I am, sitting between these two DJs from the big rock station in Raleigh/Durham, sucking 12 ounces of Budweiser through a hole in the bottom of the can in record time (beating them both), crushing the can and dropping it dramatically onto the concrete floor. Now THAT shiznit’s rocknroll. Thank you Raleigh!
Philadelphia “Summer’s Gone” Tour Report
I’m sitting in my mother’s kitchen eating a bowl of tuna fish and a fistful of tortilla chips. So rocknroll. Jut in from The Point show afterparty, which was at the Wayne Pub (where half the patrons were alumni of my high school). Weird.
Anyway, tonight’s show was, as Bono would say, some sort of a homecoming. My junior high school music teacher, Mrs. Culp, was there. She tought me how to harmonize in seventh grade. My high school choir director, Mr. Vanderslice, was there. He put up with all sorts of punkish behavior. My 10th grade English teacher, Mrs. Barry, was there. She encouraged me to write poetry. Plus all sort of friends from high school and college and neighbors and family. It was really remarkable. Really gratifying.
The Point is a listening room, not a bar or rock venue per se. There are pictures of previous performers — Bruce Springsteen, Billy Joel, Jackson Browne — on the walls, which was humbling and terrfiyng and exciting concurrently.
I performed for about an hour and a half, which is, of course, about three times what I normally do in NYC. And I am, of course, solo acoustic on this tour. So the amount of things that could have gone wrong was staggering. But I think I held it together quite nicely. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever had such a good time on stage. I was able to stretch out, tell stories, talk about growing up in the area, inspiration behind songs, stuff like that. Which was really fun and unusual. And I pulled some old stuff outa’ the hat, like “Used” and “Way” from 1996′s “Out of Your Head.” And “Waiting At Graceland (First In Line),” which has never been recorded. Plus the new stuff that I love: “Shiver,” “Hollywood Arms” (which my brother thinks should be my next single) and “California” (which I think should be).
Probably my favorite moment was playing “Anywhere Mine,” a random middle-of-the-album song from “Out of Your Head.” It breathes. It has space. It’s pretty. That and telling the story about watching the sun set in Santa Monica on Sunday night, boarding the red eye, then watching it rise in NYC Monday morning and thinking (per Aimee Mann), “It’s a wonderful life, if your don’t weaken” before launching into “California” (“A song about love and earthquakes”). So, my homecoming was rewarding, meaningful, fun, kinda’ rockin’, kinda’ deep and some sorta’ kharmic payback to all the people who make it all possible: the friends, the family, the teachers.
I realized today (Doogie Howser moment of the show) that these gigs — no gig — aren’t just about the guy on stage. They’re about everyone involved, everyone invested. We all want to believe that it’s possible, that “Maybe, Maggie it’ll come true / For you and me and all that we do.”
The time is right, for all that we know. Next, though, five hours of sleep, wake, run, eat, and drive to Raleigh (as hurricane Isadore bears down on the South).
Meetcha’ on the other side.
Leaving New York Is Easy
Here’s what the rock star does moments before the tour: pays bills. How un-rocknroll. Oh well. There’s room on the cards, and that’s what I need. I’m supposed to pick up my rental car in four minutes, grab my brother, and head south to Philadelphia.
I’m on in 8 hours, and would like to squeeze in a run (again, how un-rocknroll).
Instead, my clothes aren’t packed, my p.a. system, dv camera equiptment and cds
are spread out all over the living room, I haven’t showered, etc etc. Complete
chaos. At least I had a minute with the NY Times and a cup of coffee at
Starbucks, and a sound breakfast at the Olympic Flame Diner. But I really should
be going. See you online, and on stage.
New York “Summer’s Gone” Tour Report
It’s 1:28 a.m. I’m running on three hours of sleep (on an airplane), a turkey sanwhich and four Vitamin Waters (in the following order of consumption): Energy, Stress-B, Focus and Balance. I’ve been home from the Mercury Lounge show for about an hour. So I’m all about the balance. And, any minute now, all about the sleep.
But first, can I tell you? This was it. The breakthrough. Brian’s liner notes for the new EP (click here to purchase it, please, and you can read ‘em for yourself) were prophetic, or at least serendipitous. The less I worry about hipness, or coolness, or nitpick every element of my performance, the better it is. Kinda’ Zen, right? I just needed to let go — of the moment, of the outcome, of the external — and just be. And for a good portion of tonight’s show, that’s what I did.
“California” was really on. It is SO the lead single on my next CD (whenever that may be). “Hollywood Arms” was so sparse, so atmospheric — a solid line drive to center field. “Shiver”? Gorgeous. It ebbs and flows, rises and falls like a river or an earthquake. Better yet, like a storm that rolls in from the distance, then off again towards the dawn. And I opened “Summer’s Gone” with a few lines from Coldplay’s “Yellow” and it was so beautiful, falsetto and all. And I’m not patting my self of the back with “beautiful” and “georgeous” or whatever. I’ve always said that if my songs aren’t my favorite songs, then how
can I expect them to be anyone elses? And sometimes it sucks and is no fun and
I’m no good. But generally, I think the shit’s pretty on. I just gotta’ get some
other folks with a few bucks to spare to believe.
Anyway, there’s so much to write about — like the whole Sony Music story, or the many Budweiser bottles I consumed (I never drink Bud, so I think it was the influence of my recent trip to Iowa), but it’s late, difficult to type with all these beers, And frankly, it might be a good idea to get some sleep. Seeing as I’m on tour and all.
Short, Sweet, And Beautiful
I sat on the beach in Santa Monica last night and watched the sun fall into the Pacific. And hour later, I was on a plane to Las Vegas where I laid over a while, then caught the midnight red eye back to New York. We landed at JFK at 7 a.m., and I was into work by 9:30. In just over 6 hours, I’ll be on stage at the Mercury Lounge launching into “Crash Site,” the first of eight songs on our short, sweet, and beautiful EP Release/Tour Launch set.
I felt out of body in Los Angeles this weekend. Like a dream. It’s so beautiful, so tranquil there: Hiking up Topanga Canyon, then leaving the scattering lizards in a cloud of dust as I run down the mountain. Jogging along Ocean Avenue looking out at the tiny white sailboats in the deep blue diamond-strewn Pacific. Coffee and The NY Times on a quiet street side cafe in the sun.
It’s just too much. Too nice. The quality of light and air and sky is breathtaking. I can’t imagine why I would live anywhere else, except that, well, I guess one’s career realities play a part (the battleship is slowly turning). But it’s still a miracle to me that I can go to sleep on one side of the coutry and wake up on another. I’m just so lucky, and I know it, and I feel it, and I’m grateful for it, and I hope I’m endeavoring to do good with it. I presume that space, that feeling, will rub off on tonight’s show (it already has, what with two new songs “California” and “Hollywood Arms”).
Last Night I Dreamt
I dreamt last night that I was flying in a military-style silver propeller-powered airplane. I was up front with the pilot. We were flying low, between mountains and over a harbor filled with sailboats.
The pilot said to me, “Most of the guys are afraid to fly up front because when the enemy attacks, he attacks from the front and rakes the cockpit with machine gun fire.”
Welcoming Benjamin Wagner
New York City singer/songwriter Benjamin Wagner may be one of the music world’s best kept secrets.
Wagner has been writing, performing and recording music for more than 10 years and released his fourth major self-released album, “Crash Site,” in 2001.
He is also about to release “Summer’s Gone,” the second single from the album, which features several remixes and two new recordings, “Hollywood Arms,” and a cover of Phil Collins’ “Take Me Home.”
To celebrate the CD’s release, Wagner is launching his first-ever solo acoustic tour September 23 — a six city tour trek that begins in New York and heads south, hitting Raleigh, Charlottesville, and Chapel Hill.
“I’m leaving my town and putting my money where my mouth is,” Wagner said.
“Crash Site” is a raw and honest, acoustically driven album, and Wagner’s reedy, passionate and world-weary vocals are earnest, yet hopeful.
The album is well produced with a full band, but it seems pure and untainted, often making it feel as though you’re overhearing him jamming alone in his Hell’s Kitchen apartment.
It’s difficult to categorize Wagner’s music, but his mellow pop/folk rock style has been compared to David Gray, Pete Yorn and Ryan Adams. Sometimes he rocks out with sing-along melodies, but most of the time he takes a more contemplative and melencholy approach.
“[My music is] decidedly inside. Remarkably uncool,” he wrote in his daily journal on his website (www.benjaminwagner.com). “At long last, I’ve settled into the fact that I write melodic little songs about relationships. That’s what I do. And that’s OK.”
Most of Wagner’s songs are about loss, but there’s almost always a thread of hopefulness throughout.
“I think that comes with growing up,” he said. “In junior high, it’s the end of the world when some kid makes fun of your pants. Now, when you experience pain, it’s like, ‘OK, that hurts, comma, but… What are you gonna’ do about it?”
The new single, “Summer’s Gone,” reflects that theme. Although describing the end of the carefree joy of summer and the decay of fall, the song is more about things that pass and figuring out what to do next with your life.
“Summer’s Gone” was originally set to be the lead single off of the album, but with the release date scheduled shortly after the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001, Wagner opted to release the timely title track, “Crash Site,” instead.
The song is about the catostophic wreckage of a plane crash that Wagner had nightmares about for years, which he later associated with the catostophic failure of his parent’s divorce when he was a child.
The song, written more than a year before September 11, gained new meaning after the attacks, so he pushed back the release of the album and instead put out a “Crash Site” CD single.
The CD featured remixes of the song with a modified ending that was more uplifting. The proceeds benefitted the United Way’s relief efforts.
Now that all of that’s behind him, Wagner is looking towards the future, but he isn’t ready to move on from Crash Site just yet. The “Summer’s Gone” CD single, Wagner says, serves as a bridge between Crash Site and his next album.
“I have 10 new songs and I could easily make a new album,” he said, “but I’m not ready to let go of Crash Site yet. I don’t think it’s run its course.”
Wagner has no official plans for his next album, but he is writing new material.
“Songs just come over me sometimes,” he said. “I was reading the paper on Sunday and all of a sudden I was like, ‘Uh oh, a song’s comin,’ and I grabbed my guitar and wrote ‘Us Around.’”
Wagner said most of his new songs were more future oriented than his older material.
“Crash Site kind of looked to the past,” he said. “The new stuff is more future-forward, more present. It’s what could be, not what was.”
The Collegian (Richmond, VA)
Everything In Its Right Place
Everything in it’s right place.
I picked up the “Summer’s Gone” CD singles on my way home from work today. They look gorgeous. I love how the purple in the waves picks up on the purple in the sky on the “Crash Site” LP — they’re connected. I love how the plane that is missing on the back of the “Crash Site” LP is actually landing on the single — there’s closure.
The band rehearsed last night, and is ready to rock. The show’s going to be more Aimee Mann, less Nirvana; more subtle, less bombastic.
“California” sounds great, and is a good indication of what my next record (I haven’t even released this one yet!) will sound like: the beat’s a bit more urban, more complex. The lyrics remain dark, but hopeful (as always).
And we played “Shiver” together for the first time, which bassist Tony called my best song yet. I’m looking forward to playing it with them, as well as solo. I like the chorus: it just
makes sense. “I shiver to keep myself warm / I shiver to keep myself strong.”
And late last night, after rehearsal, I was interviewed by a sweet young reporter from UVA’s student newspaper. Somehow we got on what it’s like being 31, and how that has a bearing on my music — I just hope she doesn’t write too much about that. Although I guess one can’t move any faster than they can, can’t be anywhere other than where one is, and I feel like I’m in a pretty great space.
