Hey, the concert at the Palms was grand. Tab was the same authentic cajun blues boy he always is, and he was on top of his game. And very chatty, which was mostly fun.
My favorite song of the night was a pure blues number from Albert Collins, called Dirty Dishes. It made me wet my drawers, in a good way. Sadly, slow blues isn’t Tab’s favorite thing to do. I wish it was, he’s so damned good at it. I have a movie of it but it will make your ears (and eyes, think Blair Witch) bleed so I’ll spare you. Take my word for it, though, it was really fucking great! Here’s a piece of an mp3. It’s way too short, though. I wouldn’t even bother clicking the link if I were you. Was you. Something.
Tab had a different bass player (Leon Medica) than when he was on the boat with us. He acted like he didn’t particularly like Leon, but I thought Leon was *really* good. He’s from a band called Louisiana LaRoux. He’s had ahold of the bass so long his body has changed shape to accommodate it. One shoulder a little higher, a stance that always takes the bass into account with right hip back a smidgen. He was one with his instrument and I liked it very much. He was one of those old weird cats that I’d sleep with, given the proper circumstances. 🙂 It’s all about the music, baby. And the sex.
I’ve figured out something sort of depressing or funny, depending on your point of view. Has to be mostly funny, I think. When I’m at concerts like this, it’s always a particular crowd, and they mostly don’t move around that much. Old and considerate, I guess. I, on the other hand, look like Autism girl, rocking back and forth in my chair, making weird noises, humping up and down, and generally looking *different* than anybody else in the vicinity. I can’t actually help it unless I’m comatose, but I had never thought about the autism angle before. Made me laugh at the concert. Bob, too.
This is where we were sitting in relation to the stage. Close, and we could set our beers on the table there. The bass kept rumbling them off the table, though. Luckily, the ones that fell were always empty.
Tab, first song, lighting me up. Not the song, just me. WooHoo!
Singing “My Bucket’s Got A Hole In It” (and I can’t buy no beer!)
He said, “I’ve got them deer-in-the-headlights lights on me and I can’t see. Is anybody out there?”
Tab, all smiley. If he was that pleasant naturally, he’d be a joy to be around. Cynical bitch that I am, I thought he was good and high all night.
Leon’s an old hippie lookin’ guy, note the tie-dyed shirt. I have one, too.
I am the world’s worst photographer, yet that doesn’t stop me from sharing this crap. Enjoy!
great review – makes me wish i’d been there! despite my annoyance with the creepy guitarist stalker, i have a ‘weakness for a boy with a drink and a guitar in his hand’* Completely understand the “Leon” thing, too.
your description of the “autistic” behavior made me laugh – i can’t sit still either. got tickets to a luxury box at a Springsteen concert once. Buncha old farts in fur and heels, eating lobster tails and SITTING down. In Chairs?!?! About 30 minutes into the set, i gave up, stood up, and danced and bopped the rest of the show…. life’s too short to sit through good music…
Rock on, sister!
*from ‘the one that got away’, Pink
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I really like how you write about things like this, it really makes me feel like I was there. 🙂
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thanks, daisy, glad I could make you laugh, and glad you understand that deep desire to f*ck musicians. I still think you may have been a sister in another life. Resonance, d00d.
I was actually married to a musician for awhile, and on the road with a band. Drummer, though.(can you picture me schlepping drums?) Would have slept with the bass player then, but she was female and I was still wired too tight for that.
lorena – that’s funny, I read your stuff and think, “Man, I love how she writes. So clear and RIGHT” I’m untrained, so I just write like I talk. Sometimes it works, but I’m never very happy with it. I need an editor!
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