King of the Road: Carrboro, 3/8/09

From the RT list, by request.


I write you from one of those motel rooms that's like the hygienically sealed compartment of a pill minder--all closed up, just the one door, all sort of plastic.

Even that can't dampen my joy. An astonishingly unpromising yesterday gave way to today: a smooth drive to North Carolina, a bit of resting and drinking and primping, and off to this venue I'd never seen before.

The Arts Center is small. Very small. Reminds me of the sort of black-box theater where the community college does its cross-cultural, anti-patriarchal rewrite of Coriolanus, with string section. I think it held 300 people, but it seemed like fewer than that.

There a modest two hours early, I was told that there were no tickets that had come available and that maybe I'd get lucky outside the venue. I wandered the lobby as Richard soundchecked behind the big doors, trying to look insouciant and functional. A turn toward the exterior doors and there was this tall man staring at me.

It took me a second to recognize him. His name is Don, and I think I first met him near Ground Zero in NYC a couple of years ago. Great guy. I greeted him warmly and then said, hoping it wasn't too rude to cut to the chase: "Do you have an extra ticket?"

He reached in his pocket and said, "It was meant to be." His guest was unable to come, so he'd driven his three hours with the spare ticket in his pocket.

Our celebratory beers meant I wasn't quite as far up in the line as usual and had to settle for (gasp!) second row. Richard emerged from the curtains at the middle of the back of the stage, which I don't think I've ever seen before (usually seems to be left or right wings, right?). And here's what we got.

--I Feel So Good

--Put It There, Pal (a real surprise to me)

A query from RT about how "somebody's team did better than somebody else's team" elicited lots of cheers and whatnot. (I guess UNC beat Duke? I'd assumed the cheering in the passing cars and the helicopters overhead were for Our Man.) He went on to tell a story of being in Italy during an Italy-France soccer final.

Some discussion of various public figures ("that chap from Lehman Brothers,,that Mr. Madoff with all the money...politicians...some figures from the entertainment industry") led into

--Time's Gonna Break You

and then

--Hope You Like the New Me

This was hard stuff for the less angry and vengeful among us, and RT said he'd go more upbeat--although still "miserable"--with

--Dad's Gonna Kill Me

He then talked about the upcoming Cabaret of Souls song cycle and said he'd play us something from it. He said it was from the point of view of a woman in the entertainment world--"but it's not Madonna; this song distinctly says she's got three husbands and Madonna's only got two."

--"I Want the World and Everything In It" might be the name of this cleverly written song, which portends well for the State College performance. It's got one double-entendre that knocks "taking his dictation" into a paper hat, if you ask me. (Was this song done somewhere last year? I've never heard it, but I think other people described hearing it?)

In introducing

--I Want To See the Bright Lights Tonight

RT repeated that old joke about being half Scottish and half Irish--"so half of me is dying for a drink and the other half is too tight to pay for it."

During

--Sunset Song

a fellow in the front row disappeared and then returned with a bottle of Guinness, which he placed at Richard's feet.

--1952 Vincent Black Lightning (Triunphs, Nortons, Beezers)

--Old Thames Side

...possibly the highlight of the night for me....a strikingly different arrangement, such that I didn't even recognize it at first.

I finally succumbed to the biological imperative at the beginning of

--Crawl Back

and was able to catch most of the song, 'cause I'm quick, from the back of the room. I was struck by how incredibly natural and clean RT's guitar sounded, back there by the sound booth. It sounded more "amplified" up front, which is only to be expected and I have no complaints.

Finally, after this one, the beer donor could no longer resist--"Have a drink!" RT explained that he doesn't drink. "It's for your Irish side" the generous fellow prodded. RT had to confess that he isn't really half-Irish, though he may be an eighth Irish. The subject hung in the air, a bit awkwardly, for just a second before some guy in mid-crowd deadpanned, "Can I have it?" Whereupon the poor front-row guy snatched it back ("Clearly, that's a no," quipped RT).

All of which was a nice lead-in to

--God Loves a Drunk

and maybe because I'd had two beers, or maybe because I was intoxicated by the show, I began scribbling about things I was half-seeing in the guitar body, like fairies in Victorian photographs: the feminine curve left by the missing pick guard, the lines down the bottom of the guitar, bleeding down from mid-forearm, from rivulets of sweat. I wrote, "This is not a guy who buys paintings to match his furniture."

After this song, RT made an observation that his audience is getting older, clearly referring to the number of us who had needed to duck out at one point or another. He messed with some allusion to a blues song in which he'd inserted the word "bladders." Thank God he dropped the topic and then launched into

--Cooksferry Queen

I have to say that, as good as the show had been, I'd had this strange sense right up to this point that RT was sort of closed up inside himself more than usual tonight--despite the sports quips and such. Now, though, it was as if something else had taken over: I guess it's the machine that is that song. I love the way it seems like it lives, coiled, inside that framework of guitar and man, then springs out at us all wild yet controlled, then pops back in as if it hadn't just changed the world a little bit.

--The Great Valerio

was preceded by much Satie trivia.

--Johnny's Far Away

was very well received--lots of appreciative laughter. There was also a hilarious quip about a Prius that I'll just keep to myself, thank you, unless you buy me a drink.

--The Sun Never Shines on the Poor (another surprise to me, with ridiculously ornate, beautiful "Spanish" guitar)

--Persuasion (much loved by the audience)

--Valerie

He left. Came back for Encore 1 asking the crowd to sing their team song. They seemed befuddled. He sang "Blue is the colo(u)r...." and said it's one of his team's songs. Then he asked for requests and, of course, got

--Beeswing

I began pondering and scribbling about how he does this song over and over again and still makes it credible and moving, then paused in my words and thoughts just as he sang "Maybe that's just the price you pay for the chains you refuse." I wonder whether that's my answer.

He went away again. Standing, applauding, and so on, Second encore--by now people were just yelling requests willy-nilly. An early one was


--Tear Stained Letter

He said he can't play it without a band, but even though he went on to get more requests, he kind of nudged us into sticking with this one and being his band: the stage-left side the horns, the stage-right side the harmony vocals. The energy level among all concerned was a tonic.

He finished with a lovely, fading-away-by-walking-back

--I Misunderstood

and then "King of the Road" comes on and we're all getting the coats we don't need because it's 67 degrees outside, and I drive home (or "home") to my capsule-of-the-day feeling like spring is truly here.

And I apologize for any tense confusion here. I was feeling, thinking, in present tense, as if I were still there. I think I went back and made it all past, but it doesn't really feel past, you know?

Pam (hoping someone else will report on tomorrow night's show)