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Re: @ Peter Mulvey
Mischeivous femme #1 - amyraven
> >Let the beatings commence,
> >Raven-amy
Mischeivous femme #2 - yz
> Oooh! Ooooh! Can I watch? Can I HELP?
such violence from fellow semi-goths. so be it!
it is a unique love we all share on this list here.
Bruce called me yesterday at the office.
Peter Mulvey. The Ark in Ann Arbor. 8:00 free show.
bring some canned food.
not much sleep the previous night, never heard of Peter Mulvey
before, save for a few comments between yz and Dan last
week...
i trusted Bruce's ravings and, let's agree here, a bad night out
with Bruce is better than most good nights of sleep.
(pure speculation here - i've yet to have a bad night out with Bruce)
~ the arrival and the reunion ~
interesting fact about this place, The Ark - one cannot simply walk
in expecting to buy a drink. The Ark is a bar, a bar that you must
buy a membership for. limited liquor license, strangely. so i
purchased a membership for five bucks that'll last through August,
marched on up to the bar, proudly holding my fresh orange-coloured
membership card. with my name on it. MINE.
(yes, this all still strikes me as moderately queer, too.)
membership has its' privileges - with a membership, one can have
as many guests as one so chooses.
at this very moment, enter one Bruce Lachey. he's thirsty.
~ the flagrantly filamented opener ~
i caught the last three or four songs of Pamela Means' set.
she looked kinda mean, and even more edgy, IYKWIM.
her presence was an intriguing one, with a two-foot fro to boot.
her songs that i'd caught were passionate in their delivery, and she
would later tell us at the Brewery that she's often compared to Ani.
there was good enough reason for me to sign up on her mailing list.
~ absolutely not relevant in any way ~
joyous! this morning's Y2K meeting was truncated to fifteen minutes.
they're almost as much fun as flossing toes.
~ songs of love and keen observation ~
[background]
first of all, i am not a man prone to listening to music in the format of
one guy and an acoustic guitar. to me, it's been done before. bleeding
heart, folky, pseudo-clever, whatever... trite. cliche'. corny. tired.
i do appreciate a good amount of folk music, don't think that i do not.
i appreciate early Dylan, sure, i enjoyed Nicki Beurig's (sp?) opener set at
Canal Street, and i am stirred by Woody Guthrie. but mostly, the roots
of folk music and celtic music are where my folk passions lie.
i am the most snobbish and deprecating connoisseur of music that i
know, and it takes A LOT to keep me interested in this guitarguy format.
[target]
Peter Mulvey is an impressive songwriter and performer. his playing is
among the most interesting guitar work i've seen or heard.
(quick sidebar: keep in mind, i am no guitarist. i am a drummer with a
lust for light and an iron will. [where did that come from?] this is to say
that we have our own way. we all have different leanings, different
coloured glasses. accept my non-techie guitar commentary as it is
coming from an inspired drummer.)
his techniques of mixed textures and tunings are deep and rich. i usually
judge music by what i see while experiencing it, and Peter is a master
muse to the stirring of my daydream landscapes.
he uses his entire person to play this old and worn guitar of his,
striking and popping with so much affection.
he is also a master story-teller.
~ the two most effectual chanties ~
aurora borealis is a phenomenal song, the guitar work rising and falling,
spiraling in and out like breathing. above this he spins his web of a boy
that he and his wife had taken in for awhile, until that boy and the man's
wife "started makin' eyes" - all through the song i wondered on if this
boy was Peter himself. i believe he could've been.
of course, if i am confusing songs here, please associate the above
proper lyric with the appropriate song yourself.
or drive to your nearest 7-11 and pick up a cool refreshing goth drink
like Strawberry Quick.
then flash your teeth for a brief moment and think of me,
incriminating carton in hand.
everyone do your own part to stop the madness.
Peter came out for a second encore, and my blood spiked as he started
singing "I am stretched on your grave" with no accompaniment.
his subsequent guitar entry saw an unexpected beauty, and those few
minutes alone were well worth the travel..
this is such a moving song, and so very warm and endearing - in spite
of the sickly and neurotic lyrical content. i have never heard Sinead's
rendering of this song, however, Dead Can Dance does a gorgeous
expression of it.
[see NP: below, and it also has a home at Chris' Funky Good Time (tm)]
i gained alot of trust somehow in Peter's music after the listening of this.
~ on Washington Street ~
after the show, Bruce, (another OtR fan) Denise, and myself jetted down
and over to the Arbor Brewery Company, where there was to be an
after-show after-glow with the musicians. good conversation - Bruce again
proved himseld as a skilled and comfortable conversationalist, by the way.
Peter seemed semi-reciprocal of Bruce's
shameless advances before we left.
er - maybe i should modify that as "shameless [will ya play on
the Over the Rhine tribute album - huh, huh, pleeeease?] advances".
(i might have exaggerated slightly just now. might have.)
thank you Bruce for the good word and evening.
thank [most of] you all for being so very lovely.
straight from the ubiquitous lovegrove that Planet Michigan is,
edward jay
NP: Dead Can Dance - Toward The Within - 07 - I Am Stretched On Your Grave.mp3
"i am yours lady - scrawled an thin"
David Eugene Edwards - 16 hp
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