Saturday, May 9, 2009

Running Angel-ic interference




















I soooooo wasn't up for a concert yesterday. Lost my dream house for the second time in a hellacious round of muckety-muck that probably would have gotten someone sued if I wasn't trying to save pennies for whatever home I do wind up purchasing.

But this one was special. I was a fan of the Arc Angels in the early '90s and an ever bigger fan of Doyle Bramhall II since. And it's just a show I never thought I would get the opportunity to experience. There had been fractious discord in the band caused by that most odious of obsessions -- drug addiction. And it never crossed my mind that I would get to see them.

So with that in mind, I sucked it up and went 'arkless to the show. Got there early and met a small handful of diehards directly in front of the stage. They were neatly divvied up into a small posse of Doylies and a sextet of Sextonites. OK, it was five -- but that doesn't sound as cool. I neatly squoze between both of them and got to be at the very front of the stage in the middle of both, with leanings toward the Doyle side.

We stood for a loooooong time, basically because the opening band had backed out and the Angels were still coming out at 9:20. I couldn't believe there was no merch table -- what the what?!? The Sextonites were already bemoaning lack of promotion for the show, 'cause it looked like the band was going to play to an empty hall until 9:25, when the knowing masses piled in.

I have been in Doyle's Yahoo group of fans for a while, and whenever I've posted no one has ever responded to me. But in the collection of Doylies were "The Famous Jane" (great to have a name made famous in one of your favorites' songs) and "the infamous Johnny," both of whom have also been in that group for a while. I promised to try posting again, they promised to answer.

The venue is the world-famous Fillmore. Well, the reconstituted world-famous Fillmore at the also well-known Irving Plaza anyway. At the hall they have a screen that comes three-fourths of the way down the stage and flashes images to the retro '60s and '70s sounds being pumped into the room. I spent much of my two hours before the show trying not to look at it to avoid dizziness. And when the band came down the stairs, we could watch their legs walking around on stage. Nothing pumps up women like seeing strong guitar legs and this band has two sets of them!

When the screen went up, we could see Doyle was wearing an Antone's t-shirt and ... damn it, that long waistcoast that prevents one from seeing our favorite ass-ets. To his and the band's credit, I didn't even really think about that until the fourth song. That's not half-bad. And I didn't think about the house thing until about the fifth or sixth, so it definitely was helping me out.

Charlie looked like a cross between Steve Winwood and Christopher Reeve in his younger days, very striking. In the back, Chris Layton was pounding away on the drums, he looked so small back there. Unfortunately, original band member Tommy Shannon has been ill and his place was taken by someone who kept reminding me of "Wolfman," the guy who replaces TB Player in "That Thing You Do," a talented guy who seems to be outside of the band's inner circle.

There's such great musical chemistry between Charlie and Doyle, it's better than lead singers who just take turns singing their own songs, because they sing different verses in the same song. It's very cohesive and makes it all, well, just feel right.

They opened with "Paradise Cafe," and Jane got her moment with "Famous Jane" a couple songs later. They did one of Doyle's solo efforts, "I'm Leaving," and "Sent by Angels" and "Spanish Moon" were expected treats. The Sextonites and I got a lot of hooting in whenever there was a chance, and my new friend, fellow hippiester Ruth, and I boogied and sang lyrics at each other.

There wasn't much banter with the crowd, but Doyle did preface "Outside Woman Blues" by saying they were about to head over to London to open for his sometime-boss Eric Clapton and that although EC didn't write the song, his band Cream did perform it. He added that the Angels' version would be nothing like that. And it wasn't! It was like their version with the pedal to the metal, very cool and trippy.

Great interaction between the two guitarists, Charlie liked to meander over and whisper to Doyle and there would be smiles ... when DBII could hear what he was saying, anyway. They would trade solos and it just made for a good time. I thought 'ark would really appreciate it, because up at the front railing, the guitar sounds were awesome but the vocals super-muddied. Since 'ark isn't really into lyrics, it would have been perfect for him.

We got great solos in the encore numbers, "She's Alright" and "Too Many Ways to Fall," as Johnny had told me would be the last number of the night. And then the screen came down and they were gone. Ruth's childhood friend Mary snagged TB Player's setlist, of which I captured on my cell phone to go into the collection.

So as always, very glad I went, and I can't wait for my EC friends heading to London to see them, and I really hope the energy that we fed off in the smaller venue will translate to the world-famous Royal Albert Hall (which I still need to get to someday!)