Toward the end of September I was at Elbo Room waiting to see Oceanography. A woman and her husband were sitting near me waiting for Warships to play and we started talking. As we talked about music and shows and the like, I eventually ended up mentioning my September of Insanity project. Her reaction surprised me, "Oh my God! Why!?" she asked. She seemed horrified at the thought of seeing a show for 30 nights in a row. The weird thing is, it was hard to come up with a great reason. I mentioned that I'm a musician myself and that I think it's important to support local live music, the best way to do so being to just show up. I also talked about being a bit of a homebody and rarely going out, this project giving me the perfect excuse to get out of the house. But she didn't seem convinced and neither did I. I spent a lot of time planning the month out. It took time selecting which shows to attend, listening to music, and making this website. I also had to think about planning shows with a good mix of genres, making sure to try to patronize as many different venues as possible, and the logistics of Muni. But once I had decided to do it, the question of Why? didn't really come up too often. But I'll get back to this question later.
I don't want to talk too much about the shows themselves, so I'll just say a few things. First of all, Ty Segall at Great American Music Hall on the 2nd was one of the best shows I've seen in my life. That guy can really play the guitar and really writes great songs too. It was billed as an "intimate acoustic" show, but it would be hard to have a truly intimate show at GAMH. Although the guitars were acoustic the show had more rock energy than most I've seen with electric guitars. It was an amazing show, but not the only one. Throughout the month I also got to see some of my favorite bands in the world: The Fresh and Onlys, Terry Malts, and Magic Trick. I also discovered a few "new" bands (by which I only mean new to me). Secret Secretaries, Upside Drown, and Jessicca Pratt were all quite good and I'd definitely go see any of them again. Other great shows were Nobunny, The Wrong Words, Gaucho, La Plebe, Poor Old Shine, and (despite the name) Diarrhea Planet. There weren't really any terribly disappointing shows although there were a several shows that, despite a high level of musicianship, just weren't my style. For example, one band I saw was actually pretty darn good, but from the first song to the last, I couldn't help thinking these guys reeeally want to be The National. Now, I like The National as much as the next guy, but I don't really want to see a band that seems to be trying to sound just like them. Overall, the quality of music on a night to night basis was absolutely stunning. There were quite a few bands that had me thinking that me and my band need to step it up a bit.
This project also had a few surprises in store for me. There was a short blog piece in SF Weekly (which you can read here) about September of Insanity that ran a few weeks beforehand and it lead to one of the really great happenings of the project. A few days after the blog was published I got an email out of the blue from a fellow at the San Francisco Jazz Festival. He offered free tickets to the SFJazz September show of my choice. I looked over their calendar and selected the Allen Toussaint show and it ended up being one of the highlights of the month. Toussaint is perhaps most well known for having written "Working in a Coalmine" but his songs range from jazz to pop to funk and beyond. He was a wonderful performer and pretty damn funny to boot. The new auditorium on Franklin is quite lovely too and it was one of the best night of the month.
But, "Oh my God! Why!?" is still the question at hand. And I still don't have a great answer. I've played a few shows that were poorly attended and when you're onstage playing to a sparse crowd it is not a good feeling. Especially after you've rehearsed your ass off, coordinated the whole evening (your own bandmates, the club's booker, the other bands, etc.), and promoted the show to the point of being a bit annoying. Not to mention the fact that your material is your art and you are deeply connected to it personally. When that show is not supported it is very difficult not to take it personally, because the show IS personal. It's your damn songs. Those moments were just silence before you turned them into a songs. When a band puts on a show they are sharing something profoundly personal with you. It's like they're letting you see into them a little and I don't think an invitation like that should be turned down. Saying that I attended a show for an entire month in order to "support live music" may sound a bit trite, but I can't think of a better reason to do it.
On the first night of September I looked around the Hemlock Tavern and thought about the people, the sounds, the events around me. I began to image these events happening without me there and it would be hard to argue that the show would have been any different had I stayed home. Did it matter that I was there? It might not have mattered to the band or the venue or the crowd but it mattered a lot to me. I was there and I heard the bad stage banter, saw the drunk walk into the chair, and I heard some bands doing what they love to do most. I had at least one similar moment at each show, realizing that the show would have gone on much the same had I not been there. But that's what life is! There are wonderful moments of music and art happening in San Francisco tonight, go check it out!
Your friend in rock 'n roll forever,
Warren Teagarden
I don't want to talk too much about the shows themselves, so I'll just say a few things. First of all, Ty Segall at Great American Music Hall on the 2nd was one of the best shows I've seen in my life. That guy can really play the guitar and really writes great songs too. It was billed as an "intimate acoustic" show, but it would be hard to have a truly intimate show at GAMH. Although the guitars were acoustic the show had more rock energy than most I've seen with electric guitars. It was an amazing show, but not the only one. Throughout the month I also got to see some of my favorite bands in the world: The Fresh and Onlys, Terry Malts, and Magic Trick. I also discovered a few "new" bands (by which I only mean new to me). Secret Secretaries, Upside Drown, and Jessicca Pratt were all quite good and I'd definitely go see any of them again. Other great shows were Nobunny, The Wrong Words, Gaucho, La Plebe, Poor Old Shine, and (despite the name) Diarrhea Planet. There weren't really any terribly disappointing shows although there were a several shows that, despite a high level of musicianship, just weren't my style. For example, one band I saw was actually pretty darn good, but from the first song to the last, I couldn't help thinking these guys reeeally want to be The National. Now, I like The National as much as the next guy, but I don't really want to see a band that seems to be trying to sound just like them. Overall, the quality of music on a night to night basis was absolutely stunning. There were quite a few bands that had me thinking that me and my band need to step it up a bit.
This project also had a few surprises in store for me. There was a short blog piece in SF Weekly (which you can read here) about September of Insanity that ran a few weeks beforehand and it lead to one of the really great happenings of the project. A few days after the blog was published I got an email out of the blue from a fellow at the San Francisco Jazz Festival. He offered free tickets to the SFJazz September show of my choice. I looked over their calendar and selected the Allen Toussaint show and it ended up being one of the highlights of the month. Toussaint is perhaps most well known for having written "Working in a Coalmine" but his songs range from jazz to pop to funk and beyond. He was a wonderful performer and pretty damn funny to boot. The new auditorium on Franklin is quite lovely too and it was one of the best night of the month.
But, "Oh my God! Why!?" is still the question at hand. And I still don't have a great answer. I've played a few shows that were poorly attended and when you're onstage playing to a sparse crowd it is not a good feeling. Especially after you've rehearsed your ass off, coordinated the whole evening (your own bandmates, the club's booker, the other bands, etc.), and promoted the show to the point of being a bit annoying. Not to mention the fact that your material is your art and you are deeply connected to it personally. When that show is not supported it is very difficult not to take it personally, because the show IS personal. It's your damn songs. Those moments were just silence before you turned them into a songs. When a band puts on a show they are sharing something profoundly personal with you. It's like they're letting you see into them a little and I don't think an invitation like that should be turned down. Saying that I attended a show for an entire month in order to "support live music" may sound a bit trite, but I can't think of a better reason to do it.
On the first night of September I looked around the Hemlock Tavern and thought about the people, the sounds, the events around me. I began to image these events happening without me there and it would be hard to argue that the show would have been any different had I stayed home. Did it matter that I was there? It might not have mattered to the band or the venue or the crowd but it mattered a lot to me. I was there and I heard the bad stage banter, saw the drunk walk into the chair, and I heard some bands doing what they love to do most. I had at least one similar moment at each show, realizing that the show would have gone on much the same had I not been there. But that's what life is! There are wonderful moments of music and art happening in San Francisco tonight, go check it out!
Your friend in rock 'n roll forever,
Warren Teagarden