SnowGhost Music

Ted and I went to see Bright Eyes last weekend. Actually, I went to see Bright Eyes. Ted was there to see the band opening for the opening band, who we missed anyway because Ted had to find a Spike’s so he could have a Junkyard Dog and decide if it was truly the best junk food in the Northeast. Ted insisted that we had time, even though the doors opened at 5. I was pumped when we arrived just in time to see the second opening band finish off their brief set, and Ted was not. He had a mini-tantrum, culminating with this exchange with Piercing Pin Cushion who took our tickets.

TED: You mean to tell me that the show actually started at 6?

PPC: It says so right there on your paper ticket, dude.

(Ted withdraws his ticket before any proof can be made) TED: That’s like saying you need to be at the airport 2 hours early. Nobody starts shows on time. What’s the hurry? Does Bright Eyes need his beauty sleep? The fucking sun is still up and it’s Saturday.

PPC: (glances outside to make sure that the sun is in fact still down, as it has been since 4:30, as is custom in New England in late Fall.) It is Saturday. And on Saturday we have a DJ who starts at ten. Next in line please.

(Ted is not budging even as mousy college students reach around him to have the Piercing Pin Cushion scan their tickets. Ted is no longer in any hurry. After all, he is the tallest person in the venue, with the exception of a few of the bouncers, and he relishes his role as the guy who shows up just as the music starts and blocks everyone’s view. Ted was actually the cause of shoe gazing, as his height and presence at so many shows over the years has prevented an entire generation of Indie showgoers from ever actually seeing the bands they love.) TED: A DJ? Like this place is some kind of club? I didn’t realize we were on fucking South Beach.

PPC: If this was South Beach, we wouldn’t have to worry about starting the club thing at ten, but it’s not and we gotta make a living, buddy. (PPC motions for one of the bouncers taller than Ted to assist in tantrum control).

Ted grudgingly accepts the assistance of the helpful bouncer and drowns his sorrow in a Sierra Nevada, but not before making several more South Beach comments and demanding that the presence of ‘DJ Scratch and Sniff’ better not interfere with the sound mix. But the venue is big and open with a classically vaulted ceiling and a huge mezzanine above us. It looks like the sort of place that would have trouble not sounding good. We carefully gauge the distance between the two gargantuan walls of speakers hanging on both sides of the stage, and we set up Camp Tall Guy right in the middle of the floor crowd. The moans and jilted mumblings of the vertically challenged fans behind us are quickly replaced with cheers and joyous Indie exaltation as Bright Eyes takes the stage.

But by the end of the first song, Ted’s prophecy of poor sound is ringing true. The lap steel playing by Mike Mogus, though ass-kickingly beautiful, is way too loud, and the trademark emo-lisp of Connor Oberst is hardly audible. By the end of the third song, Ted has inserted ear plugs. So we try the back behind the soundboard. Despite frantic motioning and name-calling, Ted cannot seem to get the attention of either of the guys standing behind the giant mixing board. We move up to the mezzanine. The seats are nice, and the aerial view is interesting. But the sound remains the same.

Eventually the show ends on time, we grab our coats from coat check, and we join the flow of Indiefolk out into the streets of Providence, plenty of time left to grab a drink and hear Ted moan about the lack of quality sound at the majority of today’s shows. As whiny and obsessed as he is, he makes a good point.

Most rock shows these days seem to sound like the MP3s that people are used to listening to. I understand that live shows are always hit or miss, but even usually reliable smaller venues with good acoustics seem to be dropping the sonic ball, and I wonder why. Of course there are some venues that have great sound systems and sound guys who can make Alanis Morrisette sound great. But if you don’t live within train distance of some legendary big city band-making venue, chances are you have to deal with earplugs and uneven mixes.

Granted, most people pay more attention to the quality of the performance rather than the quality of the sound, but why not have both? I have no idea if the impending club mix affects the sound or setup at shows preceding the dance scene, but I have noticed sound problems at every pre club show I’ve been to. Even at usually reliable venues like the Avalon in Boston. Maybe my ears are just getting old and I’m spending too much time on the wrong side of Ted tantrums, but with all the advancements in sonic science, why do I find myself constantly longing for the past?