I didn't even stay for the main band - I just had to get home to write about the opening act.
OK, that good? Good? You got it? OK.
So, hi. That was my obligatory gushing quote for The Sometimes Family to put up on their Web site and MySpace page and wherever the hell else people use laudatory quotes. The Sometimes Family is the opening act bar band I saw for part three of The Concert Project.
For those who don't remember, The Concert Project is my endeavor to see 10 more shows by the time I turn 30 - Sept. 3, 2009. I've fallen a bit behind for various, insane reasons. Here's a quick breakdown of why I missed so many concerts.
Sold out: Art Brut
Just plain didn't hear about it until a week afterwards: St. Vincent
Walked into the venue where the concert was playing by mistake but realized I couldn't stay because I still had to drive to Indiana that night: Environmental Encroachment
And a few others.
Now that that's done, a tribute to the opening act. And, Friday night at Phyllis' Musical Inn, that opening act happened to be the funk/soul act, The Sometimes Family.
The Sometimes Family was a normal opening act bar band. It had the normal competent bassist, keyboardist and drummer, plus the normal hipster-hot backup singer. The backup was also the flautist, which was a lot cooler than it sounds.
They opened for The Gyps, who I decided not to see. Not to diminish what I'm sure is a fine band - I just had my musical fix. And this is all about the openers.
The only thing really to distinguish The Sometimes Family was the amazing voice of the lead singer/guitarist. But even a voice that amazing has to sing something memorable. And as groovy and hot jazz as the set was, I don't remember a damn specific of it.
It's the flaw of workman perfection - no one remembers what you do very well. They only remember what you fail at.
And since the band didn't seem to have any failings, I wouldn't remember The Sometimes Family at all if not for one thing - lead singer Rebecca Sometimes' grandfather.
The old man looked like a combination of Drew Carey, Harry Caray and my own late grandfather, John H. "Joe" Dailing. He and his date (Grandpa brought a date!) arrived early and sat in the front, each sipping from Diet Coke cans through a straw.
I only knew the old man who kept snapping shots of the band with a disposable camera was the lead singer's grandpa because of my repeated interviews with the lead singer's sister.
And by "repeated interviews," I mean casual chit chat that only took place because I was sitting next to the only open spot at the bar. The girl on the other side of the open spot was too drunk for conversation. While waiting for her drinks, the sister was taking the opportunity to hype the band to the pleasant young Schlitz-sipper. She never knew I could technically be counted as a music critic. I never told her.
"He comes out for the shows," the sister said, gesturing to the old man as he shuffled in front of the band to take another snapshot of his guitar-slinging granddaughter. "Depending on the venue. This place is pretty chill, you know?"
A brief pause, then the sister returned to her promotion.
"The Sometimes Family. Check it out."
And I did.
So here's to the opening act, the bar band, the folks too young to be the Sultans of Swing and too poor to be anything else right now. Here's to the bands where they're still so pumped about music that they invite their grandparents.
I hope The Sometimes Family does well. I hope Rebecca Sometimes' sister keeps spreading the word. I hope funk/soul combo becomes the headline bar band, then moves onward and upward. I hope they don't have to keep competing with the Stanley Cup post-game for bar patrons' attention.
But I hope Granddad Sometimes keeps showing up.
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Paul Dailing
Paul Dailing (pictured standing in front of the World's Largest Boot), now has a different haircut. He's also lost a bit of weight since that picture was taken, but not as much as he likes to think. More
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