It was definitely my own fault. I did it to myself. I was the one who uttered those two cursed words a couple weekends ago:
"I'm boooooored."
I announced this, without even thinking twice, to an audience of precisely one person -- and that person was actually a cat. She didn't seem nearly as concerned as I was.
When I went to college at Augustana, the majority of the student body (and hence the majority of my friends) came from the greater Chicagoland area. With few exceptions, most of my big city friends loved the college but hated the Quad Cities. Hearing them talk, it was as if their parents were punishing them by sending them to the outer reaches of civilization for their education. "There's nothing to do here!" was a refrain I'd hear often.
I don't come from Chicago. I grew up in Galesburg. I didn't have the heart to tell my friends that when the cool kids from MY town talked about going to "the big city" for the weekend, they meant HERE. I've always been of the opinion that the Quad Cities has perfectly enough to do. Chicago is a fun place to visit, don't get me wrong -- but there's something to be said for eight-minute commutes, river views, and the comforting knowledge that I could be escaping down a dusty country road towards the middle of nowhere by the time this song on the car radio ends.
But for a few fleeting moments that weekend, I felt like my whiny Chicago friends of yore. I was bored, and there was nothing going on. My close friends were all busy. I spent a good portion of that weekend sighing, pouting, and having an exceptionally pathetic pity party for a table of one. At one especially depressed point, I put on my shoes, resolute in my efforts to find entertainment. I drove my car about 3 blocks before giving up and returning to the house, muttering "there's nothing to do!" This time, I didn't even have my cat's attention. I was just whining to the open air.
I'm happy to say I made up for it this past weekend.
It's official: anyone who says "there's nothing to do here" is an idiot. Or at least doesn't check the calendar of events.
Last Friday night, I found myself at Davenport's Raccoon Motel, first in line to check out the rock stylings of Chicago shoegazers Airiel. I'm a big fan of the high-volume, laid-back bliss of the shoegaze subgenre, so I was prepared for the sonic onslaught. What I was NOT prepared, for, however, was the opening act. They were called Pink Frost, and they were angry. Or at least discontent. Something in their lives, or perhaps the lives of others, was clearly not going well, and they had things to say about it. Or occasionally scream about it.
It was amazing. This band came out with such an intensity that I was moderately concerned about the structural integrity of the building and/or my future ability to hear anything ever again. Wear your earplugs, kids - that's my PSA. But if you're ever going to be driven mad and deaf by a band, this would've been a solid choice.
"Wow," a friend of mine said after a couple songs. "What do you think?"
"I WANT TO START A REVOLUTION," I replied. "I'm not sure what or whom we should be revolting against, but this noise is clearly a call to action." They were great. Airiel were great. Everybody was super nice. I felt 20 years younger. It was a rock and roll lovefest.
The next night, I was back in action, this time at Common Chord's Redstone Room for the long-awaiting reunion gig of local powerpop heroes Einstein's Sister. This was a show that was a little more my speed. Einstein's Sister have been doing their thing since I was a freshly-graduated idiot turned loose upon the world, and grey was the predominant hair color of the evening.
They're some of the best musicians in town. Their fans are some of the best people in town. It was a veritable who's who of experienced local music nerds, and there were more friends than strangers in the audience that night. It was less a concert and more a big party of friends, except that it was still VERY MUCH an amazing concert, too. Unannounced guests like local legends Manny Lopez and Nervous Neal Smith joined the band onstage, and the setlist leaned heavily on Einstein's classics alongside tracks from their newly released EP, "Exit Strategies."
The set ran blessedly long and culminated in a lovingly shambolic, half-improvised cover of "Gimme Shelter" that saw almost a dozen musicians take to the stage. There's videos of it floating around online - try to find and watch it while reveling in the fact that we're lucky enough to co-exist in the same metropolitan area as these class acts.
It was a stellar weekend for music, friends, and fun. And after the year I've had, I no longer take nights like these for granted. I'm glad I live in the Quad Cities. I'm seldom bored. I'm grateful for my friends and the great venues we have in this area to get together and celebrate. And this week? I'm also awfully grateful for my couch. That's where you'll find me for the next few days. I could certainly go for a nice, boring weekend right about now.
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