First of all, thanks to all our friends who came down and showed us love at the Crunkleton last Friday. It was great to see you all, especially since the show didn't make it into any publications and had little to no publicity besides facebook and our own ingeniously designed but limited edition handbills and posters.
So thanks so much, but you are not really the subject of this blog, though you are very much appreciated.
I want to talk about (but probably not to) all those people who I don't know and will probably never see again, especially since a lot of them are graduating and moving away.
It was a nice looking crowd, people in their early twenties, mostly students I'm guessing, undergrad or grad, some young professionals in the mix. These are people who rarely if ever set foot in the Local 506 or the Nightlight. They might not ever make it out alive of the Reservoir.
There were a LOT of them. I mean, the place was packed! It's a long narrow space, I don't know the capacity, but I would say at least a couple hundred.
Two hundred strangers! In a town I've lived in for 12 (gulp!) years.
We set up our gear and started playing, and they didn't leave.
This is not as easy as it sounds. I have seen it before, a room of clean cut young people who find electrified rock music too loud or intrusive upon their conversation. It may just be that they are tired, or they never planned on staying out, but so often those people don't stay for the show.
Not that I blame them, because frankly it can be a little jarring when the jukebox which was already loud gets turned off and the rock and roll band starts playing and they make the jukebox sound like a faint whisper.
For whatever reason (and I like to think we had something to do with it!), this time the crowd stayed put. Maybe it was because classes were over, and they were done with deadlines and with reasons to get up in the morning, at least for now. Maybe the mix of people was just right and people were really enjoying themselves. Maybe that's just a typical Friday night at the Crunkleton, I must admit I don't usually go out on weekend nights so I wouldn't know.
We had such a great time playing for those people. It made me think about what it means to be the entertainment. There is a distance between the perfomer and the audience, and that gap can never be closed completely. An old friend once pointed out to me, "some people are meant to make music and some people are meant to dance to that music."
Well, not that the whole room was dancing to our songs, but I saw some toes a-tappin and I saw some dudes in the back of the room checking it out. I saw some cute college girls up front, too.
This was a roomful of people that don't play music, nor claim any status as music afficionados. They stuck around, though! They had a good time with us, they cheered us on to greater heights. Of course, they didn't all stop what they were doing to listen, some continued their conversations as if the jukebox was still playing.
Here's the thing though: the jukebox is playing classic rock and pop by mostly major recording artists, while we are a scrappy very independent local rock band. And they didn't leave!!!!
I appreciate that, and though I doubt very much that any of them are reading this, I would thank them for their kindness in staying and helping us be their entertainers. Without them, and without our dear readers, there would be no Transportation.
And of course good luck in the real world, maybe we'll see ya at the Reservoir next time!