Stranger in a Strange Place (Part 1)

In preparation for tomorrow's concert, I thought that I might as well break out the review that I wrote last year of Ani Difranco in concert. Actually, only the first part for reasons that are within my control but aren't of interest to anyone other than my therapist right about now. Enjoy and expect another late nite post coming tomorrow.

Stranger in a Strange Place
(Ani DiFranco/Noe Venerable, Liberty Hall, Lawrence, KS, 1.21.2004)

When people ask me why I go to a particular show I usually have a really good reason. Like I’ve seen the band before and I am a really impressed by their live show. Or I find their album really engaging and want to see if the live show can build upon it. Or even simply because the artist is from Austin and that is good enough for me (reference ‘Sight Unseen’ 1.17.2004)

This show was a first for me. I’ve never gone to a show on a dare before.

That’s being a little too flippant, even for my taste. I had heard of Ani DiFranco before and had even heard a song here or there. I knew there was an unbelievably loyal fanbase and a pretty strong critical backing of her work but I was never drawn to her music. I appreciated it and had no qualms about it but nothing that I would go out of my way for.

But last summer a friend of mine made an effort to counter the onslaught of Neko Case lyrics that end my emails by providing me with some Ani lyrics. Every time she sent another quote I became more and more impressed by how well written and lyrical and insightful the words were on the page. And I became more and more interested in actually seeing her in person.

So, when I saw the ad for her show I had to call her up and ask if I should go.

“Of course you should go. It would be awesome.”

Any advice for my attendance?

“Yeah, wear a skirt.”

It was with this in mind (and the knowledge that I was going to have to call her from the concert to prove that I was, in fact, attending the concert and not watching Duke-Maryland in a bar) that I made my way to Lawrence. After a quick tour of Mass. St. (and the great disappointment that even a college town has music stores that close at seven) I go to the theatre to see if the doors have opened and I see a line. A long line. A block and a half long line.

Well, I guess people standing in line in January is essentially the definition of a loyal fanbase. The last time I stood in line for a show was, well, never.

You could tell it was going to be an eclectic crowd from the line itself. There were the hip KU students. There were the alternative KU students who would be much better suited at a liberal arts school located somewhere other than Kansas. There were a few people who seemed to have taken a wrong turn at the last Grateful Dead concert. And of course, there were a few aging scenesters like myself hoping that the gray hair wasn’t showing just yet.

But the award for coolest people in line goes to the older couple behind me who were given tickets by their son to attend the show. They had what was clearly my quote of the night.

“Our son told us we would probably be the oldest people at the show”
“Yes, thanks for coming.”

(Like I’ve said, one of the themes of my life is finding out just how old I really am.)

Liberty Hall has that great old converted movie theater feel to it. Which is probably because it is an old converted movie theater. A large portion of the crowd in line went to the upstairs balcony where you could sit and watch the show in peace. Which makes no sense to me as I stood on the floor close to the stage. I didn’t crowd up to the stage, there were more than enough people with that intention. I was content to stand at the edge of the crowd with a great sightline and an ability to scan the crowd. And to not be in anyone’s way.

Because let’s face it, I’m an upper class suburban heterosexual white male. From all my previous experience hearing about Ani I was under the distinct impression that to this crowd I was, for all effective purposes, the enemy.

(That’s not entirely true. The 20 year old, Ambercrombie and Fitch wearing, backwards baseball cap guys in the crowd were the true enemies. I was the guy in the CBGB t-shirt who everyone says is the most amazing guy that you could ever meet and that girls describe as “not the type of guy that you want to date but the type of guy you want to marry.” As I get older, that line becomes more and less sensible at the same time.)

While I’m on the subject, a few more notes about the crowd. A surprising number of guys in the audience, probably 30-40 percent of the crowd. Very young crowd, not surprising, and during both acts they were really attentive. One of the best crowds that I’ve seen in years. However, I need to make one fashion trend argument. No white guy can wear dreadlocks and look cool. Sorry, it just doesn’t work. For women, you can either look really, really good or really, really bad.

Oh, and I only saw one person completely trashed at the show. Which is admittedly one more person than I expected to see. Hell, even I felt weird drinking at the show and I wouldn’t feel out of place drinking at a funeral.

At some point here I should really start to write about the music itself.


(Which I'll do tomorrow, I swear)