Last night, I went to Great Scott to see the first show ever by my friend and ex-coworker Vanessa‘s husband‘s new band, The First Day of Summer. Other than knowing Vanessa and Colin and wanting to support friends, plus having listened to tracks and really digging what I heard, I was intrigued because this band is comprised of many members of the former band The Fly Seville. I forget exactly how I ever learned about the Fly Seville, but I acquired their album “Carousel” for a very low price from CD Spins and it quickly became a favorite. (I remember that when Vanessa first came to work at my office and I learned that her husband had been in the Fly Seville, I brought in my copy of “Carousel” for her to have him sign. She said it made his day.) I considered myself lucky to see a version of their lineup open for (I believe) Clem Snide at the Middle East Downstairs 4 or 5 years ago. After that, the band fell off my radar. (Interestingly, Atomic Ned posted something about six months ago wondering about the fate of the Fly Seville. Well, now he’ll know.)
So, when I learned about the band coming together and scheduling a show, I had to see them. Some coworkers and I all came out for the occasion, and it was an awesome show — the songs are really tight pop-rock arrangements, shimmery and true to the band’s name. One mutual friend of a coworker and I — Adam, who I worked with at Boston.com ages ago and remains a good friend — is also quite the avid music fan (as well as photographer — if he were a quick turnaround with his photos, I’d totally link him up here), and I was glad he turned out. Not only to enjoy the show, but because we got to commiserate about how decrepit we are.
I’m pushing 30, and I don’t go to as many rock shows as I used to — I don’t even have a kid to claim as a convenient excuse. (Not that that stops Brad, who is a fixture on the music scene AND has a toddler — he was at the show last night, too.) In my advanced years, shows at Club Passim or the Somerville Theatre are more my speed — close by, delightful atmosphere and, you know, CHAIRS. (I remember when I went to see Hem a few years ago at the Paradise and they had set up chairs — a first for the ‘Dise, but fitting for the music — and I was so happy I could have wept.) I can still rally for a few hours of standing for a good cause, but I’ll admit it — comfort is now a top consideration. Also, quite frankly, I just go to fewer shows now than I used to. A variety of factors play into that — ones I’ll perhaps explore further at some point — but it seems like overall, while learning about new music and listening to bands is still a top priority in my life, going to their shows seems to have become less of one.
But being at the show last night — even though I only stayed for the one band — made me miss it. Every so often, I chide myself for not going to as many shows as I used to and I vow to get back in the loop of scanning for shows and finding willing partners to attend them with me (though admittedly, I also feel like I have fewer of those partners-in-crime than I used to). I usually fail to live up to this promise. Maybe this time will be different?
Of course, what do I do this weekend when two really cool shows — the Bradley’s Almanac show at TTs tonight, and the Somerville Arts Council Jonathan Richman tribute — are taking place? Run off to Brooklyn to help my brother film an episode of his show.
Next weekend, right?