From: owner-mad-mission-digest@smoe.org (mad-mission-digest) To: mad-mission-digest@smoe.org Subject: mad-mission-digest V8 #221 Reply-To: mad-mission@smoe.org Sender: owner-mad-mission-digest@smoe.org Errors-To: owner-mad-mission-digest@smoe.org Precedence: bulk * If you ever wish to unsubscribe, send an email to * mad-mission-digest-request@smoe.org * with ONLY the word unsubscribe in the body of the email * . * For the latest information on Patty's tour dates, go to: * http://www.pattygriffin.net/PattyInConcertDB.php * OR * go to http://www.atorecords.com * . * PLEASE :) when you reply to this digest to send a post TO the list, * change the subject to reflect what your post is about. A subject * of Re: mad-mission-digest V8 #___ gives readers no clue * as to what your message is about. * Also, PLEASE do not quote an entire digest when you reply to the * list. Edit out anything you are not referring to. mad-mission-digest Wednesday, September 1 2004 Volume 08 : Number 221 Today's Subjects: ----------------- MM: Portland show offer [FishKeeper@aol.com] MM: RE: RE: Patty in Bremen & Portland ["Chris Negrin" ] MM: news from Patty Griffin boards [Steve Berry ] MM: THE SWEET HARMONY EXPERIENCE OF BOSTON PT 2 [MikeBrns4U@aol.com] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Wed, 1 Sep 2004 02:36:54 EDT From: FishKeeper@aol.com Subject: MM: Portland show offer Hi all - Thanks to Marie, I can offer up copies of Patty's Portland show of 6/20/04 to the first five responders. E-mail me direct if you'd like to have one, I'll try to get 'em out by next week. Howard ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 1 Sep 2004 09:27:15 -0400 From: "Chris Negrin" Subject: MM: RE: RE: Patty in Bremen & Portland I have my five. They will be re-offering. Chris - -----Original Message----- From: owner-mad-mission@smoe.org [mailto:owner-mad-mission@smoe.org]On Behalf Of Chris Negrin Sent: Tuesday, August 31, 2004 1:39 PM To: mad-mission@smoe.org Subject: MM: RE: Patty in Bremen & Portland I've got the Bremen 1992 CD. I'm offering to the first 5 people in the US. No postage or discs necessary. Respond to me off-list with: 1) Complete Mailing Address 2) The ability to re-offer the show Chris Hi all, There was a lot of interest in the concerts. Bremen 1992 has gone to 3 listers in the US, two of whom have offered to re-offer. Portland 2004 has gone to 2 European listers; there are still 3 copies available (open to everyone now). Enjoy the music. John ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 01 Sep 2004 08:01:54 -0700 From: "Steve Del" Subject: MM: SST San Fran and LA shows offer I thought they did not play in LA (except on Ellen's show). Closest to LA I thought was san luis obispo, which is about 3 hours north of L.A. and where I saw them play. When you say LA, did you mean San Luis obispo? thanks, - -SteveD >>Date: Tue, 31 Aug 2004 11:29:09 -0700 (PDT) >From: Zachary Scot Johnson >Subject: MM: SST San Fran and LA shows offer > >Hey all, > > I wrote in the discussion board the other day, but >forgot to make note of it here for anyone who doesn't >consistently check it. Thanks to Gillian, I have >copies of the San Fran and LA singer-songwriter shows >and will burn and send for 10 people. I've already got >six or seven, but I have room for a few more. If you >want them, just send me your snail mail address and >I'll get them out to you. _________________________________________________________________ Express yourself instantly with MSN Messenger! Download today - it's FREE! http://messenger.msn.click-url.com/go/onm00200471ave/direct/01/ ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 1 Sep 2004 11:32:28 -0700 (PDT) From: Steve Berry Subject: MM: news from Patty Griffin boards Thank you to those who post information here as well as on the website discussion boards. I can access my email group digests here at work but I cannot visit the sites. Therefore I do appreciate your information! - -- SteveB ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 1 Sep 2004 14:50:19 EDT From: MikeBrns4U@aol.com Subject: MM: THE SWEET HARMONY EXPERIENCE OF BOSTON PT 2 Boston Fleet Pavilion, 08/20/04: SWEET HARMONY TRAVELING REVIEW (w/ Emmylou Harris, Buddy Miller, Patty Griffin, Gillian Welch & David Rawlings) _________________________________________ (...This review of the show is continued from Part 1... and coming to you LIVE from NYC's Republicans Talkin' Highway 9/11 Revisited... And Bankin' On Elephant Balls To The Walls Street-Keepin' Forces... That You'll Trust In Us To Never Exploit National Tragedy To Keep Us In Power Longer Longer And You Safely Believing In Conservative Compassion, A Conventional Wisdom For Suckers Born Every Second Counts So You'll Never Know What Hit You Unless You Vote Hell NO In November...) ...But no time for that, nor for more a cappella. It was enough to make a fella cry. The next half-hour or so was turned over to Gil and David. This was the first time I had ever seen them live -- or anyone else for that matter, except of course Patty. At one point in their all-acoustic set, Gil slipped on a harmonica and a banjo. She prefaced "No One Knows My Name" with a little story about the banjo, the playing of which has allowed her to "join an elite group of musicians," she informed us. "Those who can tell banjo jokes." Gil commented that people in the audience usually either get really excited when she pulls out her 5-string or they head straight to bathroom. I definitely thought about it, believe me, especially when she practically gave us permission to do so. Call me olde and in the can't wait till it's over category, but I am not a bluegrass banjo, mandolin wind, fiddle fan, soo-weet. The only time I've enjoyed seeing a banjo played is when Steve Martin used to put an arrow through his head, and he would talk about how you can only be happy when playing the banjo. But me, I'm just not happy hearing it. But I stuck it out and thus got to hear Gil's joke. She asked us, "Does anyone know what's the difference between a harmonica and a banjo?" To which we all replied, "I don't know." To which Gil replied, "Well, I'll tell ya. A harmonica sucks only on every other note." And of course she was right. I really do like the song "No One Knows My Name," but before the end of it, the banjo had my mind trying to climb the 5-string fence to escape. She put it away for the rest of the set. I forgave her her momentary indulgence. How could I not, especially when Gil asked us if we liked the Red Sox towel proudly displayed right next to where they kept their guitars on stage. I discovered Gil and David do not use pickups for amplification of their acoustics but rather external microphones. They control volume by changing the proximity to the mics. They worked their folkies right up to the mics hard. They played the whole set acoustically, eschewing the electric country-blues band sound I much prefer on their latest album, "Soul Journey." But these two nonetheless made a believer out of this doubting Thomas's English Muffin Diver Becomes Electric. Especially when they played them folkies as loud as they could on "Time (The Revelator)." Gil moved us with her sweetly singing and propulsive rhythm guitar, and as for David, well hell... Time had no mercy on us as he picked and kicked up an almost frightening lightning storm on his 1935 Epiphone Olympic archtop. This 6-string looks like a violin and sounded like a fast model car of an acoustic guitar. The sonic expressway to my skull had finally opened full throttle and I was racing like that piece of Cake's, "going the distance/ Going for speed." Maybe there was hope for this devil salivating over far-off salvation yet. This was definitely the guitar-lead highlight of the night. Well, soon it was about time for Gil and David to take some time off, but not before they laid on us, "I'll Fly Away." Another number from O Brother, recorded by Gil and Alison Krauss, but this time done with David taking a turn standing in for Alison. They sang the song so purty together, I pined to die so I could learn how to fly, too. Gil and David walked off the floor and Patty came on to take us higher. But first she greased the wheels of our good fortune by thanking us for coming out to see them instead of going to see the Boston Red Sox play. Which would have been quite the fan effort on our part, as the Sox were in Chicago that night. Patty admitted she isn't much of a baseball fan, but said that Emmylou is. She then called out to Emmy backstage to check on the score. Patty then turned back to us and announced "the Sox are winning, 6-2. No wait. 6-0." [Cue applause sign.] Hook, line and sinker pitch. After keeping it spare and simple all night, the show suddenly exhaled and expanded. For along with Patty out came her whole damn band -- Hell-alujah! -- and then the big tent set sail. On all cylinders, the She-Monster hit the sky running. With her own "When It Don't Come Easy," the words of the old pop song by Ringo Starr, with George Harrison & Eric Clapton & company, echoed off in the distance... "Please remember peace is how we make it/ Here within your reach/ If you're big enough to take it..." Patty was standing and taking it, and giving it all away. Her voice hit us wide, deep and far, from Motown down to the Mississippi Delta. She was laying it all down on a gamble and a ramble that had started low and slow and just kept building and giving. I was undone and overcome. My eyes squeezed sparks mixed with tears as she sang the heavenly hell out of it... "...So many things I had before It don't matter to me now Tonight I cry for the love that I've lost And the love I've never found... When you break down I'll drive out and find you When you forget my love I'll try to remind you Stand by you When it don't come easy..." I felt like I was out there all alone on that lost highway, but that there is someone else out there, too. This was no call to God, just to each other. It was coming straight down the line. Nothing else mattered but sound and a sweet soul stirring the music. The band rose up and just cleared the rainbow, then drifted off and away till there was just this bluebird flying by herself and cooing to us. I was high on that plane, as close to heaven as I ever get... and yet before I knew it I was falling straight down and crashing into the ground. You could not have heard a dime drop in the whole damn place except for Patty, except for right behind my head. I came to realize there was this guy sitting just behind me that was droning on and on and on to his date. And this verbal diarrhea continued even after the song ended, with the rest of the place in the rapture of ecstasy, and me in E-rupture. Isn't it hard sometimes? For that moment it seemed the most painful interruption ever at a show in the couple hundred I've seen. I still applauded hard for Patty with hands raised over my head, but I threw in a flip of the bird behind me. It was dark so I doubt he saw it. So slowly I turned... and stared briefly in disgust. This was not even the first time the clown had talked that night during a song. One other time earlier he was talking at the very same time as another guy sitting right in front of me was yapping during a number. I had assholes moving their jaws in stereo. But at least this was not during when the only sound in the whole place was one of the best voices on the planet. And this was the absolute high point of the whole show. Fool me once, shame on, shame on you. But fuel me... Can't get burned again. Concerts more than anything are what I have lived for in my whole life. Like The Lizard King sings, "Music is your only friend/ Until the end." And this was a country-folk concert, a largely acoustic show, anything but loud. What the coal hole hell! I never talk during a song, whether I come alone like I did this night, or with someone. Wait till the music's over, damn it. I didn't pay to be with the crowd. I paid to hear the performer. "When the music's over/ Turn out the light..." Fortunately I was all alone tonight, so I decided then and there that was it. I didn't have to discuss options with anyone. I got up and grabbed my gear and left my plumb 5th row seat behind and started towards the back. As Patty started singing "Love Throw A Line," I continued up the aisle, beyond the distance for a moment of any love towards anyone. Like Rage Against The Machine, I felt like "I could just kill a man." The guy hadn't completely ruined easily the best-ever "When It Don't Come Easy" for me, he had just slammed this awesome moment down into the dirt. "When It Don't Come Easy." Damn straight. As I reached all the way back, beyond the tent, where the outcast smokers coughed at their coffin tables, I looked for a place to drop my gear. But at some point I thought to myself, "Wait a minute. Why, he is here! That must have been him. Bigtopne! The Patty fan who has declared a Patty deathwish for me. And he had delivered. Only a fate worse than death. Because now I'll never forget how he had crushed this beautiful epiphany. Well hell, I'd like to throw a line. Around his neck! 'Lynch him,' the devil woman shouted into my brain. I looked around in a silent Firesign Theatre scream, 'Anybody got any lynch?'" I then suddenly realized this was really where I belonged anyway. I was the only one standing in the whole audience now. I thought to myself, "Love ain't for keeping... and music ain't for seating." Even at a show like this, I always wanna move. I dance in my seat with my head a-rocking, and my feet both a-tapping, but it's just second best. I go to almost all my concerts alone now because I don't know anyone around me into the same music as me. So now when I order tickets for one, I usually get a great seat. But is it worth it when I'm trapped and can't get up when the music and the mindless idiots move me? Hell no. Now on the previous stop of the SHTR tour, at Central Park in NYC, there was some controversy over this same topic. Some brave souls, more daring than I, had stood up in front only to get shouted down. Well, I wasn't there, so let's go to the Harmony Heads from emmylou.net forum for a taped live report. "Central Park, NYC, Wed 8/18/04. The place is packed. No seats, just people sitting cross-legged on the grass, packed in like sardines. Some rude preppies from Connecticut insist on standing up in the very front, blocking everyone else's view of the stage. The crowd begins to chant "down in the front." The preppies refuse, and they begin to get into it a bit with some legit music fans who want to see David Rawlings' fingerwork. Emmy notices the problem and asks them to sit down. They defy even the lady herself. Melissa thinks they must be closet Toby Keith fans, and tells them they need remedial manners training from Emmy's mom. This of course is totally ineffective, but hey... Miz Emmy is getting a bit hacked off too now. She walks right up to the offenders, stands over them, and tells them that if they don't sit down, she will. Way to go lady." Well, none of the performers sat, not even once, during any part of the show I saw. There were no stools on the SHTR stage. In fact, Emmylou danced around on stage more than anyone up there, even during the slow songs. So "do as I say, but don't do as I do," is that it? If it's good enough for the performers, why isn't it good enough for the paying customers? I mean, just who is "always right" around here? I mean what are you gonna say man, when later on someone asks you, so just why did you "rude preppies" finally stop dancing and sit down? Answer: "We were just following orders." Don't you know that's how the whole Nazi death camps thing got started, man? Now dig this. The group United For Peace & Justice is being denied the use of Central Park to protest the RNC in NYC because of an alleged concern over damage to the park lawn. Do you think THOSE rude boiz & grrrls are gonna swallow the conservative company line and fall in line on the way to the showers? Hell no! They're gonna find a way to be on the grass, if you know what I mean, man. Well, maybe President Party-Pooper will just have to call on Miss Emmy to go back down to Central Park and chill them rude protesters out. After all, "When You Dance I Can Really Love," is just the name of a song. But what Neil is really saying is, "...I can really love when you stay off the grass and sit with your safety belts on like good little boys and girls." "Legit music fans..." What? Legit music fans don't think music is worth standing up for? I decided tonight I ain't sitting down at shows no more. Patty doesn't sing and make a stir about sitting on her latest album, but rather "STANDING... in the shadow of the hill." Unless I'm at a sit-in or a shit-in, I don't want to get caught trapped again next to some fake, neo-country music fan who won't shut his piehole during songs. At least if I'm already up with no seat to tie me down, then I can easily and quickly move away from a loud jackass without having to disturb anyone else while I give in to the overwhelming urge to bash this mood-crasher's head in. And then I can always get body and soul into the groove of the music, whether it's slow or fast. Hell, someday I'm going to get old or crushed in a car accident or most likely both, and then I'm gonna have to use a cane or a walker or be trapped in a wheelchair for the rest of my existence. And of course I'm gonna be kissing gravity's ass for the rest of eternity when I'm gone, whether I'm buried in the ground, or if those left behind actually honor my wishes and cremate me. I am Mike Burns, after all. I'll be mellow when I'm dead. So as long as I'm "ha-ha-ha-ha stayin' aliiiive..." I don't want to sit around and get fat feeding on the gathering moss. I wanna dance on the ceiling peeling and dripping acid flashbacks with that devil woman. "Music is your special friend/ Dance on fires it intends..." So should I be grateful to Bigtopne for bringing me to this other epiphany? Thanks Biggie, you mofo! "WHAP!" I slowly opened my far-away eyes and thought I saw among the stars the hand of the creator. The she-monster herself had seemingly reached all the way from the stage to the back of the hall to give me the back of her hand. "Snap out of it!" was what I suddenly heard her say inside my hard head, and so I did. How could I not when she was snake-charming the crowd with a behind the scenes scene. I shut down my mindhole and listened up. She said it was good to be back home, back in Boston. She said that earlier backstage she had pie. ("Mmm... Pie.") That she always has pie when she is in Boston. Not that you can tell. The woman is a rail. I guess I need to eat more pie. Or stop living in Boston and just visit once in a while like Patty. Well, I know I definitely do need to do both. In my mind I've gone to Carolina. And sweet Virginia. And Miss Her Hippie Pot Pie. "Mammories like the colors of my [dirty] mind..." Just like Fabienne (Maria de Mederios), otherwise known as "Sugar Pop," tells Butch (Bruce Willis), in the movie Pulp Fiction. You know the scene when Butch asks her how can she order pie for breakfast, and Sugar Pop answers: "Anytime's a good time for pie." All that pie eating and it didn't show on her pop, either. You should really see Maria as Anais Nin in "Henry And June," making love to Uma Thurman. Talk about makin' whoopie pies. Well, enough talk, let's eat. My words, that is, and move on from eating pies to the listening to the next song, in honor of keepin' on keepin' on and "Making Pies." Of course it was tasty sweet. And then I got my strength back. I was all the way back now. "On with the show/ This is it..." Then hen she played one of my favorites, "Long Ride Home." This was the only time Patty played an instrument other than her voice all night. She played acoustic guitar, and Emmy came out to join her on harmony. And to my ears this was easily the singing Miz Emmy did all night. Indeed I was on that long lost highway for that slow ride back home with them in that long black limousine. Now next up was the sound of "Icicles Falling," which brought some much needed coolness to hotheads like me in these overheated environs. She delivered her last song in this sadly abbreviated set, "Mary," a moving song not about Mother Nature but her grandmother, keeping the family and hope alive with quiet defiance of the ravages of experience. It was good to finally hear some songs of celebration of strong women. Unfortunately the harmonies at the end were off and this version did not fly quite high enough to rocket us up to the dreams end reached at Berklee in Boston last May. But at the end I was still touched by her presence dear and the goddess dust that settled all around me. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ...Mike Burns has left the building all fired up to find his only friend The End in Part 3... ------------------------------ End of mad-mission-digest V8 #221 *********************************