Tuesday December 18, 2007
I’ve been sitting on these photos for a couple of weeks, waiting for an opportunity to post them. The short version: The new Sweat record store (/coffee bar!) is impressive, with fully-stocked bins and empty-canvas walls, and the evening was lots of fun.
Here we go. So, count me forever among the hordes of Rachel Goodrich devotees. One nice thing about having 3751 MySpace friends is that when you play a show, the people that pack your house have an undeniable affection for you. Rachel returns that affection, and was as exited about her crowd as they were about her. Her songs are great, and her performance was homespun and rollicking. Typical between-song banter: “We’re going to fuck this next song up, but that’s okay, because you guys are drunk, right?!” Also, the kid seen holding the kazoo for Rachel in this picture was great. Perhaps a younger brother that got dragged along to help, he was perfectly bored-looking and reluctantly, eye-rollingly supportive throughout. Great bass player, too.
After a big autoharp number (“Can somebody run out to my car and get my autoharp?” (which actually happened)), Rachel closed with a sweet song on ukulele. Note the semi-audience, semi-crew guy holding her microphone. There were lots of these folks at the show, sort of like a living-room performance.
The Jacuzzi Boys, sort of a Velvets-influenced thing, but with stuffed birds, only good. Really. Going on tour in January, I see. Send us a postcard, gang.
Update: Article in the Herald.comments powered by Disqus