an anecdote for a smoky evening
As I rode home today I could smell wildfire smoke on the wind, the first time this season, not as bad as it could be, but it always feels wrong every time the smoke comes into town. Makes me feel defeated. So I wanted to tell a story that I found fun.
About a week or so ago I went to see Coral Grief's album release show--their debut full-length, you should check it out--on a whim. I didn't know anything about the band beforehand but I opened up a mailing list from the venue, scrolled around until I saw a show that sounded fun, asked my sister if she wanted to go, and went. It was a good time (I also very much enjoyed one of the opening bands, TV Star).
After we arrived at the venue I was talking to my sister about how one of the things I always enjoyed about music, and any art, really, is discovering connections. That was how I discovered new music back in the day: I'd see a band opening for someone I knew, or I'd hear that a musician I followed had helped somebody else out on their album, and so on. And while not all of my musical collection was traceable through this web of connections, a huge chunk of it was. These little stories and connections matter so much.
Anyway. As it turns out, the first opening band, New Issue had engineered and mixed Coral Grief's new album, and some of the members of TV Star had done the album art and some t-shirt designs, and that helped make what was already a pretty fun show feel special.
All of which is to provide context for the anecdote I actually wanted to share, which is this: at the end of Coral Grief's set, there was an encore, as is more or less expected at this point even if I get the sense that no one really enjoys this tradition. Lena FM, the band's vocalist (who also does guitars and synths and I think writes the songs), returned to the stage, played a song on her guitar, asked if it was okay if they played one more song. Then apologized for keeping everyone late, and also for apologizing.
And I just found that immensely charming.