Grooveshark, Pandora and Turntable . . . Oh, Spotify!

August 6, 2011 at 11:51 PM (Musings) (, , , , , , , )

Assuming you don’t live under a rock without WiFi access, chances are you recognize at least one of the web-based music services listed above. Initially, I felt overwhelmed with options, feeling obligated to choose the “best” of the bunch, but it didn’t take long for me to figure out that a) the Interwebs wasn’t holding a gun to my head or a contract to sign with blood b) all four serve different purposes for me to determine as and when I see fit. Curious? You should be, if you’re still bothering to read this:

The beginning of it all, as far as I can recall (and the source of tonight’s tunes, below). Pandora is great when you don’t feel like handpicking your playlists, or want to find some new tunes. For instance, this afternoon I felt Jamiroquai-ish, but my knowledge of anything remotely similar is just shy of nonexistent. I don’t even know how to try and describe the genre. Solution: punch “Virtual Insanity” into Pandora and enjoy the resulting playlist. The major downsides for me are the commercials and the skipping limit (particularly when the station is getting really out of whack). While I don’t use it that often, I know that other folks regularly run up against the allotted playtime with the free membership, which can be a heckuva downer toward the end of the month.

Grooveshark also has a radio offering, but unless you have a bunch of songs in mind, it takes a while to calibrate to what you like. That said, there is no limit to song-skipping, and no commercials. Win! I haven’t tried it, but I’ve heard you can also upload content, which is pretty nifty. Grooveshark is my go-to when I want to listen to top 500 – yes, they have a pre-made playlist with the 500 most-played songs on Grooveshark, and you can listen to them in any order. You can also tailor the playlist, adding and deleting whatever you like. Downside: no Beatles. At all.

Think iTunes, without having to buy any of the songs – and being able to link up with your Facebook friends’ Spotify lists. That said, if you want to play the songs without an internet connection or commercials, you have to pay for the membership (What is it with these people wanting my money? Don’t they understand how important my beer budget is?), but the commercials are much less frequent than Pandora; sometimes they even recommend public/ promoted playlists that I find interesting, so the targeting is pretty solid. Other pluses include a desktop client with a very nice user interface, which means no extra tabs to keep open, and the fact that my Klout score was high enough to merit an invite during the limited release. Yes, I am susceptible to ego boosts. Sue me. Downside: no radio option that I’ve discovered as of yet. is definitely the odd duckling of this collection. I really only use it on Friday afternoon at work with my coworkers for an eclectic jam session. It’s a social DJ platform where users can enter different “rooms” and tune in or, if there’s an open turntable (there are five to a room), spin some of their own. Other people in the same room can rank each tune as “lame” or “rock on,” earning the DJ who selected the song points that can go toward an avatar (or maybe something else, but again, I don’t spend too much time on the site). In addition, each room has a chat bar where listeners can comment and make suggestions. It’s a good time, but unless it’s a Friday afternoon, there’s too much unpredictability for my tastes.

What are your thoughts on the internet radio world? Pros? Cons? Don’t give a rat’s posterior? Let me know.

Tonight’s Tunes
“Secret,” Maroon 5
“Nobody,” Kate Earl
“Around the World,” Daft Punk
“Dance with Me” (ft. Treysongz), Kevin Lyttle
“Heaven Sent You,” Howard Hewett


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Checking Out Boston Gigs: Eclipse (Boston College)

April 19, 2009 at 5:22 AM (Happenings, Musings) (, , , , )

Unfortunately I can’t say too much about Eclipse‘s Boston College show tonight: I arrived so late that I only caught the last four songs (one of which was “Free Bird” –  really guys?  – slightly hysterical, and well played), and I was bummed to see that it was scarcely attended.  I partially blame BC for having low-quality music fans – Nez told me that the group had made announcements earlier in the evening in some of BC’s dining halls to promote free Pink Floyd music – but at the same time, it’s marathon weekend in Beantown, and we had a Sox game, and a Celtics game.  People were busy tonight.

The music was great, as usual, but the sound was off at points.  Evidently booking a room at BC doesn’t include a tech guy.  One thing I do want to note is that the group is incredibly grateful for its supporters.  After the show, not only did the group members I already knew graciously thank me (and everyone else, individually) for attending, but also a couple members I didn’t know so well.  The music never fails, and my attendance is valued (or so I’m convinced, at least): assuming I’m in Boston at the time, my next RSVP is a no-brainer.

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Checking Out Boston Gigs: Eclipse (The Music And Stuff, Or Part III)

April 14, 2009 at 8:54 PM (Friends, Happenings) (, , , , , )

Copied from 1.02 P.M., April 13, 2009

(I’m lost!  What are you talking about?)
(Now how did you get here?)

Once inside and branded on our hands with Xs signifying that we could consume adult beverages, Tim and I made a beeline for the bar . . . only to find ourselves standing in line behind  the one guy I knew in high school from Mike’s town (who also happened to be a BU student) . . . who had also been in a funk/ jazz ensemble with Tim in said high school.  It’s a wonder my head didn’t just burst right there.  We bought our drinks and joined Deeg to drink, chat – “sporadically yell at one another” may have been more appropriate, actually – and people-watch before Eclipse took the stage.

Never having been to Cask ‘N Flagon before, I was studying the scenery as much as I was studying the patrons.  This venue was easily the largest of the four I’d most recently visited, and the busiest by far.  The latter may have been attributed to the fact that it was a Friday (the other gigs I’ve attended have been on a Thursday, Sunday, Monday and Wednesday), perhaps coupled with the fact that Eclipse is stocked with phenomenal musicians, wild energy, enviable cohesiveness, and a fail-proof set list.  Not wanting to find myself lost behind a sea of audience members taller than I (After all, one of the points of experiencing live music is to witness the artists in their element first-hand, isn’t it?), I dragged Tim toward the front of the stage shortly after the preceding band finished its set.

A few feet away from the stage’s perimeter, I looked around to discover that Cask ‘N Flagon also offered the most varied clientele.  Not only were 20-something Floyd fans such as Deeg, Tim and I in attendance, but also former 20-somethings.  In some cases, very former.  This didn’t surprise me, though: my dad was the one who turned me onto Pink Floyd in the first place.  The demographic that did manage to suprise me somewhat didn’t make an appearance until about halfway through the gig: a gaggle of female early 20-somethings, loudly and possibly drunkenly clambering for the front of the stage to take pictures of themselves – as opposed to, say, the people actually on the stage.  They disappeared quickly enough, but not without baffling both Tim and me, first (I’m not condemning their attendance, mind you – they merely stand out in my mind as I recount the evening).

The Berklee band itself was substantial: two on guitars, two on keys/ samples, one on drums, one on bass, one lead vocalist, two back-up vocalists, and two on sax.  Talk about thorough.  The wardrobe varied across the stage, featuring tuxedo shirts, tye-dyed shirts, Dark Side shirts, no shirts, parkas and more (although by the end of the night some shirts were missing).

Eclipse didn’t start.  Eclipse exploded.  The 50 or so people packed around the stage were hypnotised within the first eight measures of music.  Not a single lyric of “Money,” “Time,” “Eclipse,” “Shine On,” or other classics went unsung by the masses in front of the stage, and Eclipse thrived off of the mob’s vigor.  The cheers and applause at the end of each song was thunderous, and as the crowds pushed closer and closer to the stage, I was glad that I didn’t suffer from claustrophobia.  Granted, if I did, I think I wouldn’t have noticed at the time.  Every performer on the stage was spot-on (at least from my perspective – I didn’t notice anything “spot-off”) – who wouldn’t want to cozy up to the stage in hopes of some of that groove rubbing off?

I’ve always been a fan of live music, but I’ve noticed that when I know some or all of the people under the lights, it makes for a much more fulfilling experience for me.  There’s something to be said for having a personal context to complement a show, be it musical, theatrical, physical, visual.  Knowing even just the personalities behind the final product further completes the entire experience, providing new levels of interest, knowledge and appreciation.  I’ve met five of the eleven artists of Eclipse at least once.   Just imagine how cool this shindig was for me.

This group has definitely merited a five-star rating in my book, having blown me away twice.  Their next show is this Saturday, April 18, at Boston College in the Cabaret Room at 8.00 P.M.  Admission is free, and the music is good, so stop by.

Today’s Tunes
“Hey You,” Pink Floyd
“The Great Gig In the Sky,” Pink Floyd
“Set the Controls For the Heart Of the Sun,” Pink Floyd
“Money,” Pink Floyd
“Keep Talking,” Pink Floyd
“Sheep,” Pink Floyd
“Sorrow,” Pink Floyd
“Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Parts I-V),” Pink Floyd
“Time,” Pink Floyd
“The Fletcher Memorial Home,” Pink Floyd
“Comfortably Numb,” Pink Floyd

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Checking Out Boston Gigs: Eclipse (Meeting Some Of the Band, Or Part II)

April 14, 2009 at 4:02 AM (Friends, Happenings) (, , , )

Copied from 10.57 A.M., April 11, 2009

(What on Earth am I talking about?)

Walking in the rain for 10 minutes to the Eclipse gig (See: Pink Floyd tribute from Berklee College of Music) from Kenmore’s T station made me glad of three things: 1.) I hadn’t bothered to style my hair, 2.) I had bothered to find my rain boots, and 3.) I really don’t mind walking in the rain when the precipitation isn’t so cold that I wonder if God is in cahoots with the Abominable Snowman.  As I walked though, I couldn’t help but pray that my recently developed sense of direction (which I attribute to living in Boston) wouldn’t fail me.  Don’t get me wrong: any other day, I would be happy to wander aimlessly through Fenway in the rain, but last night I had people to meet and music to experience.

Luckily my prayers were answered quickly: not only was Cask ‘N Flagon right across the bridge, but Nez was outside having a smoke.  Not only was I thrilled to see him, but now I was saved the mild unease of wandering through yet another foreign venue in search of a familiar face.  Shortly after exchanging hellos, I learned that my Power Prep had been totally unnecessary:

“So we aren’t playing at 11.00 after all . . . “

My insides deflated.  Eclipse was originally supposed to play at midnight, which, even on a regular night, is upsettingly past my bedtime (and I know Nez wasn’t thrilled, either).  The morning of the gig, I was thrilled to discover via Facebook that Eclipse had been pushed to 11.00.  I’d still be out past my bedtime, but less substantially.  No longer.  Drat.  And here I’d barely bothered to brush my hair in fear of missing “Shine On You Crazy Diamond.”

Oh well!

Nez introduced me to a couple of his bandmates who were with him, Mike (guitar) and J.C. (keys/ samples).  J.C. and I got to talking and eventually began describing our hometowns (both of us used the terms “small,” “predominantly white,” and “conservative”).  When I mentioned my town’s name, Mike jumped in:

“Wait, [Small Town]?”

“Yeah . . . in [my state].”  It’s relevant to note that my hometown shares a name with a region of Greater Boston.

“[SMALL Town]?”

” . . . [MY state]!”

Repeat one or two more times with slight variation, until . . .

“Yes, I know [my state]: I lived five minutes away from you.”

There is a moment of shock and disbelief on my end.  My next question was obvious, so Mike saved me the breath: “Have you every heard of [Another Small Town]?”

Heard of it?  Almost half of my extended family lives there.  My suave, sophisticated response?


I have never considered Greek life, but at that moment, I wonder if I experienced the equivalent of discovering a Greek brother or sister in an obscure setting.  In order to understand the unlikelihood of the situation, consider this: my hometown holds fewer than 2,000 people, and I personally knew less than a handful.  I went to private schools outside of my region, so all of my classmates were geographically distant from me outside of classes.  My high school was two-thirds boarding.  I knew no one from my town, and one person in my year from Mike’s town.  Meeting Mike at this gig was about as probable as meeting someone from BU while away on vacation in Spain: possible, but highly unlikely.

While we reminisced about the wonders, or lack thereof, of our respective small towns, Nez excused himself, Tim showed up after a long day of surviving the work force demanding a drink, and Deeg texted me from inside asking where I was.  Oh, and it was still raining.  I took my cue to head inside.

Today’s Tunes
Dark Side Of the Moon, Pink Floyd
“Another Brick In the Wall (Part 2),” Pink Floyd
“Echoes,” Pink Floyd

Today’s Distractions
Captain’s announcement: we’re landing.
Pittsburgh: I can see it!
“Please turn off all electronic devices.”  Good bye, Tunes.

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Checking Out Boston Gigs: Eclipse (Getting There, Or Part I)

April 13, 2009 at 10:10 PM (Friends, Happenings) (, , , )

Copied from 9.59 A.M., April 11, 2009

Last night I ventured out once again to support Boston’s local musical talent.  I mentioned earlier that my friend Nez was in a couple bands: WhiteShoeBrownShoe, which I checked out a little over a week ago, and Eclipse, a Pink Floyd tribute band based out of Berklee College of Music.  Last night’s headliner was the latter.  I’ve had the pleasure of seeing Eclipse before – the night after I saw WSBS, actually – but I never got around to blogging about it (sorry, Nez).

Yet again, I had pulled a double-shift the day of the gig, and was seriously reconsidering my evening plans: Eclipse wasn’t scheduled to play until 11.00, and I had a 10.05 flight to Pittsburgh the following morning for which I had yet to pack (and yes, for those of you who are curious, I am drafting this post on the plane now).  Plus the T stopped running at 12.30, so I’d have to grab a cab if I didn’t want to walk home . . .

Wait.  I forgot that I can realistically walk home if I want!  God bless Fenway.

Remembering that handy factoid was reassuring, but I knew, not too far in the back of my mind, that I’d be going even if I had a 6.00 flight the next morning: not only was Eclipse totally worth the night out last time, but this time, I had invited friends out.  I was locked.

Ah, the joys of social commitments.

But seriously, I was stoked.  Who needs sleep, anyway?

I had my evening all planned out: I would finish work by 9.30, sprint home, shower and be out the door by 10.15 (Yes, despite being  female, I can shower in 10 minutes.  Stop looking so stunned.) to meet my friends at Cask ‘N Flagon by 10.45.  At 11.00, rocking out would commence.  By 12.30 or so, I’d trudge home to get a few hours of sleep before packing off to Pittsburgh.  And by “packing off,” I mean “starting to pack, then actually packing off.”  it was going to be a good night.

We didn’t finish up at work until after 9.45.  And during my second shift, it had started to rain.

Fan.  Flipping.  Tastic.

It’s okay.  I’m in PR.  I’m used to situations not playing out like they’re supposed to.  I can adapt to this.

Yeah, right.  You think my brain works that way after I’ve been making coffee for 13 hours?  I was stressing out a little bit.  I’m only human, folks.  I didn’t even know where exactly Cask ‘N Flagon was: I just knew it was “in Fenway somewhere.”

Somehow, I managed to shower, dress and Google Map my destination, and run out the door by 10.22.  Okay, so maybe I’m only human, but I do occasionally perform miracles.  Deeg was already there; Tim was en route from downtown.  After waiting for what felt like a rainy eternity, but was probably no more than 10 minutes, an inbound T arrived, and I was on my way.

Today’s Distractions
U.S. Airways flight attendants.  God they’re cranky.
U.S. Airways emergency procedures
Take-off!  I can’t wait to enjoy the bird’s eye view of Boston.
The clouds that are blocking my would-be awesome view of Boston.  Bah.
Turbulence – I am suddenly reminded of the latte I chugged not an hour ago.
My ears that have just popped.
My pen exploded.  My fingers are blue.
The landscape of some state between MA and PA

Today’s Tunes
Wish You Were Here, Pink Floyd

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Checking Out Boston Gigs: WhiteShoeBrownShoe

April 2, 2009 at 5:05 AM (Friends, Goals, Happenings) (, , , )

My buddy Nez is yet another musician I’ve befriended who happens to work with Danny at that nifty little coffee shop across the street.  In addition to being a generally awesome dude, he’s a drummer in two bands: WhiteShoeBrownShoe, an original rock group backed by Heavy Rotation Records, and Eclipse, a Pink Floyd tribute band.  After finally turning a new leaf and catching one of Love In Stockholm’s gigs – and loving it, I might add – I was stoked to find that Nez had a few of his own gigs coming up.  Two consecutive nights two days after Love In Stockholm, to be precise.  “Golly,” you might think, “that’s an awful lot of time spent out at night in a short period of time!”  My response?

“Yes.  And?”  I had a mission, and there was no way that I was going to deviate.  That, and I desperately needed a break from studies and job-hunting.

You may recall that Friday night was my Love In Stockholm adventure.  If you don’t, consider yourself reminded.  On Saturday, I worked a double-shift, working for 13 hours or so.  I opened at work on Sunday morning.  Nez’s gig with WhiteShoeBrownShoe was late Sunday night at Middle East Upstairs in Central Square, Cambridge.  By 10.45 A.M. on Sunday, I was a zombie, and although Central Square is geographically close to me, getting there via public transportation is time-consuming.  The thought of trying to grab a bus or train after 10.00 in the evening to get to an event that was slotted to get started at 11.00, then likely having to pay for a cab home and having to work again the next morning was almost enough to make me consider taking a rain check on Nez’s show.


Determined to continue with my resolution to make it out to my friends’ events when I could, I survived the rest of my Sunday shift, which finally finished up around 2.00, went home, and promptly passed out for the remainder of the afternoon.  Several hours and a healthy nap later, I felt marginally more capable of sojourning out to Cambridge to witness the borderline-legendary awesomeness that was WhiteShoeBrownShoe.

Having not had much of a life for the last few years, Middle East was yet another mysterious new destination for me.  This time I wasn’t lucky enough to have a friend accompany me to my destination, but I’d texted Danny earlier to make sure he was going. Although I was determined to make an appearance that evening, I wasn’t stupid: I was visiting unfamiliar territory, and being the quasi-petite lass I am, I doubt I’d stand much of a chance if I had to fight off an average-sized male, and, well, I didn’t want to have to worry about warding off sketchballs by myself.

I walked inside and broke with habit at the bar by ordering a Corona, mostly because I would have felt silly drinking anything else in a Corona tee shirt, and it wasn’t long before I heard from Danny, inviting me to head inside to the performance venue.  Upon entering the “Upstairs” of Middle East, which, from what I recall, is ground-level, I realised two things: 1.) I didn’t see anyone I recognised, and 2.) that I hate walking into strange places and not seeing anyone I recognise.  I stopped hyperventilating quickly enough when I realised the third thing: 3.) the venue wasn’t that big.  Finding Danny and Nez couldn’t be that difficult.

Sure enough, after I’d walked across the room, I found them chatting about five feet away from me: Danny stood between Nez and me, with his back to me, blocking Nez’s sight of me.  Being the mental 6-year-old I am, I immediately saw an opportunity to startle one or two people, and proceeded to walk up to Danny’s shoulder, and stare at him.

And stare at him.

And stare at him.

Eventually I grew bored.

“Psst.”  Both guys turned to see who had interrupted their conversation, and although neither jumped, seeing their eyes widen a smidgen upon recognising me was satisfying enough for me when paired with surprised greetings and welcoming hugs.

Once I had proof of not being alone standing next to me, I relaxed.  Nez had to run off to do whatever it is he does before a show, leaving Danny and me to enjoy our respective beverages in anticipation of what I assumed would be a good show.

Ladies and gentlemen, I was not disappointed.  Admittedly, I’d given WSBS a quick listen on their MySpace page, and while it certainly wasn’t bad, I don’t think I would have made an effort to see a live show. Now, my opinion has changed substantially, and “Park Drive” has been stuck in my head on and off for the last couple of days.  These guys had a contagious energy about themselves, and, at least to a musically uneducated audience member, it looked like they had their stuff together.  Middle East wasn’t packed at all, but everyone who was in attendence was definitely hooked.

For me, though, the highlight of the evening was seeing Nez lost in his drums.  A while ago, I was sharing a conversation with him that I’d had with someone about my spiritual beliefs.  The relevant summary was that someone had asked  me “Why?” until I no longer had an answer, and realising that I wasn’t completely certain of my own beliefs deeply disturbed me.  Nez emphasised by telling me how he found himself in a somewhat similar conversation once, only pertaining to his involvement with playing the drums.  Initially I was ever-so-slightly put off at the concept of drum-playing being compared to spirituality, but I got over it quickly enough and forgot about it. A few months later, when I actually witnessed my friend on his drums, I recalled the conversation all over again, and this time, it was easy for me to see that this guy truly valued his music as much as one may value one’s religious belief.  As everyone continued to rock out, I thought about how thrilled I was to be able to witness one of my friends in his element, and I could only hope that I will eventually find something that makes me just as happy.

Tonight’s Tunes
“Lovely Rita,” The Beatles
“Atlantia,” Secret Garden
“Diamond Dogs,” David Bowie
“Lost Without U,” Robin Thicke
“Park Drive,” WhiteShoeBrownShoe
“Off To the Races,” WhiteShoeBrownShoe
“I Saw It All,” WhiteShoeBrownShoe
“We Are Your Friends,” WhiteShoeBrownShoe
“Ride Slow,” WhiteShoeBrownShoe
“Your Time Is Gonna Come,” Led Zeppelin
“Black Mountain Side,” Led Zeppelin
“Communication Breakdown,” Led Zeppelin
“Whole Lotta Love,” Led Zeppelin
“The Lemon Song,” Led Zeppelin
“Living Loving Maid (She’s Just a Woman),” Led Zeppelin
“Good Vibrations,” The Beach Boys
“Flying High,” Jem
“Let’s Live It Up,” Brian Setzer Orchestra
“Zoo Gang,” Wings
“Dreamworld,” Robin Thicke

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Checking Out Boston Gigs: Love In Stockholm

April 1, 2009 at 5:18 AM (Friends, Goals, Happenings) (, , , )

In the last four years that I’ve spent in Boston, I’ve crossed paths with many musicians.  As a freshman, I took a voice class and befriended a saxophonist, Dave. My part-time job, which I’ve held for nearly two years, is buried within the Berklee College of Music.  If I had a dollar for every musician with whom I’ve worked, paying for BU would – okay, it would still be a beast, but it would be a slightly less terrifying beast.  On top of that, the coffee shop I’ve been visiting regularly for the last four years has its own repertoire of performing artists.  Needless to say, I’m pretty insecure about my own musical abilities when I’m surrounded by all this talent, but this is beside my point.  Given all the time I’ve spent in Boston, surrounded by musically gifted acquaintances, I have not once taken advantage of the live music that, in some cases, has been beckoning me since December 2005.

As you may recall from an earlier post, the tragic passing of Tori Rubino has reminded me that we are not guaranteed any number of years in our lives.  Yet, I still had not taken it upon myself to see any of my friends’ gigs.  Countless event invites flooded my Facebook account, and I always had an excuse to not go: I had dance practise, I wasn’t feeling well, I had a project due, the weather was lousy, I had to wash my hair, and so on and so forth.

Suddenly I was angry with myself.  Wasn’t I just complaining last September about my friends never coming to support me at my dance events?  One thing that I dislike more than hypocrites is realising that I am a hypocrite.

Last Friday, I was killing time at my favourite coffee shop across the street.  Danny was busy behind the bar when I remembered that his roommate happened to be my friendly acquaintance Dave from the voice class back in freshman year.  After our class ended and Dave and I became official friends, courtesy of Facebook, I had received countless invites to performances by his band, Love In Stockholm, all of which I politely declined. Love In Stockholm Flier Eventually, I’d stopped receiving invites.  Determined to take real steps toward supporting my performing arts enthusiasts, I asked Danny when Love In Stockholm was next performing.

“Dude, you should check them out tonight!  They’re playing at Harper’s Ferry at 11.15,” he grinned as he handed a quarter-page flier to me from behind the bar (did I mention he’s also the group’s manager?).  Nothing like instant opportunity to test out my resolve, right?  I had some homework to do, but I decided that I could afford to spend a few hours and dollars on a trek out to Harper’s Ferry: after all, it was only down the street, and it had been a while since I’d bumped into Dave.

A few hours later, a friend and I made our way out to Harper’s Ferry: I to finally support my former classmate, and she to get some material for a journalism project.  Having never been to Harper’s Ferry, the first thing I noticed was that I was overdressed: apparently, blazers with jeans were overkill.  Luckily, having spent a few years learning how to primp and preen in ballroom had taught me that overdressing was not a sin – as a matter of fact, I typically enjoy it.  After employing Mr. Adams at the bar to accompany me that evening, my friend and I settled against the wall next to the stage to observe what interested us: I kept an eye out for Dave, who was unaware of my evening plans, and my friend started jotting down every detail she could about our environment.

Once the penultimate group (whose name escapes me) finished up, I caught sight of Dave as he walked onto the stage to set up for his band’s set.  I shouted at him, but didn’t grab his attention right away.  I ran up to the stage and tried again.  Being about three feet away, I was successful after my second attempt:


Suddenly I felt pretty cool having gotten one of the band members so thrilled to see me.  Dave couldn’t socialise for long, having slightly more important things to do (like, setting up the stage for his performance in 20 minutes – small details), but I was glad that I’d managed to catch him before Love In Stockholm kicked off their set.

By midnight, I was kicking myself for not having checked out this group sooner: they were an electrifying blend of funk and rock, and I loved it – along with the rest of Harper’s Ferry.  Although the bands preceding them were good, it was clear that Love In Stockholm was the featured performance of the evening, and rightfully so.  Seven musicians, all of whom I think only recently graduated from BU, filled the perhaps 2/5-occupied venue with a funk energy that captivated each person in attendance.  By the end of their set, I could only think of how frustrated I was for not having exposed myself to such grooves sooner.

I managed to grab Dave again for a few minutes after the performance to congratulate him and to share my above-mentioned sentiments.  “Don’t worry,” he assured me after I apologised for missing so many of his earlier shows, “we sucked back then!  You came out to see us at the perfect time!”  I breathed a small sigh of relief, and Dave continued: “So, we have to get you up here [onstage] with us some time!”

My heart just about stopped: I had forgotten that I had originally met Dave in a voice class.  I can only hope he was joking.

Tonight’s Tunes
“Brain Damage,” Pink Floyd
“Eclipse,” Pink Floyd
“Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Parts I-V),” Pink Floyd
“Welcome to the Machine,” Pink Floyd
“Have a Cigar,” Pink Floyd
“Wish You Were Here,” Pink Floyd
“Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Parts VI-IX),” Pink Floyd
“Dogs,” Pink Floyd
“Pigs (Three Different Ones),” Pink Floyd
“Sheep,” Pink Floyd
“Pigs On The Wing (Part Two),” Pink Floyd
“One of These Days,” Pink Floyd
“A Pillow of Winds,” Pink Floyd
“Fearless,” Pink Floyd
“Seamus,” Pink Floyd
“Echoes,” Pink Floyd

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