Wilco and my best friends

Got to see Wilco for the fourth time last night, at the Greek in Berkeley. Terrific set, from all over their catalog: truly inspirational. There is nobody else playing guitar music today with this kind of passion, sophistication and originality. Got me all psyched up to play our show at Thee Parkside tomorrow, too. (playing with AM Interstate and Matthew O'Neill and the Birds of Prey, two bands who seem quite likely to be very good, and compatible with us as well.)

Best part of the night however was being there with three of my closest friends: Derek, Gregg, and my wife. The four of us never really hung out together as a group before, and it was the merging of the three main areas of my life (band, work, and family) into one group, that felt unique and oddly thrilling. Great night, all around.

And for what I consider a 100% accurate review of the show, check out this cool blog called Hippies are Dead.

Yolo County Line

She pawned the wedding ring
that he'd left behind
then split from Angel's Camp
the day she turned 25.
Left her sister there,
with a habit and a child.
Told herself she wouldn't cry till the Yolo County line.

All the way back home
All the way back home
Yolo County Line

She was laughing up a storm
when she arrived.
Guess the screen door set her off,
took her by surprise.
Her daddy took her in his arms
so relieved to see her smile.
She was safer on this side of the Yolo County Line.

All the way back home
All the way back home
Yolo County Line

Now, the music I have for this stops there, and I think it works just great: a tight, moody, and somewhat unconventional pop song. But the traditionalist in me keeps thinking there may need to be another verse: maybe a switch to first person, the introduction of another character, someone to undermine the sense of safety established in that second verse. It just seems too static as it is. On the other hand, I like the unabashed optimism of it as it stands right now. It's a friggin' happy ending! I never write like that. Maybe that's why I want to do something to fuck it up: my cynical reflexes are kicking in.

I keep thinking that some creepy guy, maybe an old, weird boyfriend or neighbor, was watching her return. He's getting his plan together, and soon he'll be invading her life in some unpleasant way. I'm not thinking anything too dramatic, maybe even just some unwanted attention, but something that says: hey, sweetheart, you are never safe from the messy parts of life. You can't run away, you can't go home. Shit happens, and you have to deal with it.

It's driving me mad.

This song is making me mental. It's by a band called Or, The Whale (first point scored: that's the subtitle to Moby Dick, nerds!) from nearby San Francisco (second point), and it's seriously potent. Jumpy, catchy, perfectly sing-along-able, but with a dark side that builds up on you and threatens to drown all the fun you were having singing along to it. I have visited their Myspace page again and again to hear it, and it's power has yet to diminish even a little.
I write songs, even pretty good ones sometimes, but I don't think I've ever hit on something quite this solid. I don't usually take my inspiration in the form of competition, but I'm trying turn my jealousy into something more productive and see if can rival it. Oh, and that makes post #1, so thanks for reading what I hope will be an interesting blog about writing, listening to and playing music while juggling work, marriage, and raising a family.