![WHATS THE COVER
A break from the usual this year, I found myself back in my small hometown in Georgia for the Independence Day holiday. Thought I’d check out the town parade and see if it was like I remembered it. To my eye, little had in fact changed. It delivered on all counts you’d expect…a slow moving stream of vehicles inching across the pavement on a blazing July morning: i)pickups with dueling city council members and no frills slogans ii) vintage muscle-car convertibles with this year’s prom queen grinning and waving iii) elaborate or in a few cases comically nonsensical floats on flatbeds, some even with live bands playing on them. Interspersed between floats and cars were swarms of roving children eagerly pelting onlookers lining the parade route in the eye with candy projectiles [note to self: consider safety goggles next year].
On the way home, a few images stayed with me from the morning: a painstakingly restored and spotless, waxed Oldsmobile convertible with a windshield covered in parking tickets; a bus for handicapped children brilliantly hand-painted probably by the kids who depend on it that itself stood disabled in the grassy shoulder of the road; and the bands playing on the flatbeds in the parade. The bands had been playing covers mostly and some blues, some of it improvised. It reminded me of something I had been considering. At times it seems there can be a blurry line between a cover band/bar band/jam band vs. the legions of indie or improvisational bands that haul their tattered briefcase of chord progressions into small bars and venues all over the country. I think about friends Vandaveer holding a crowd enrapt in a the shadowy haze of a French bar or cafe, or These United States bringing a bar or bait shop in Montana to its feet, or for that matter the thundering Shortstack who might just reduce a NY or Virginia bar to a cloud of dust and rubble (no I am not on Adrian’s payroll). I think what defines a band in a given moment can’t just be the performance setting. I mean surely all of these bands might be playing in a bar, improvising a part, or playing a Dylan cover in a bar at a given moment—I know Roofwalkers surely has. And, at that moment the goal might be shared with the precise and well oiled cover band at the bar across the street— a goal of entertaining the crowd and/or honoring a moment of the past. (If the room is empty its more of the latter). But stepping outside this moment these types of bands come across as such different beasts from each other in so many ways— in function, intent, self-regard, and aspiration. All to say, there are moments on stage when you can’t get your head around all the differences quite, but I know they’re there simply because the notion of Roofwalkers trying to legitimately cover the Allman’s Melissa* makes me laugh and probably moreso our listeners. Anyway, it should be clear I mean no disrespect to any of the types of bands I’m discussing here. I do find fascinating the subtle and ambiguous lines of identity in making music. Speaking of identities, an event I love in Washington that has a lot of fun with some of these lines is the annual Run for Cover event held at the Black Cat, where all your favorite local indie musicians band together to be in pitch-perfect cover bands for one nite. Always worth attending for one reason or another. This year its August 1st I think.
*Side note on this—apparently Greg Allman got the idea for this song when he heard a mother calling to her daughter “come back, Melissa!” in the grocery store. When you consider the lyrics, it’s a jump. I like that.](http://27.media.tumblr.com/4skscIl5Aqev8a0fY8MmJXpbo1_500.jpg)
WHATS THE COVER
A break from the usual this year, I found myself back in my small hometown in Georgia for the Independence Day holiday. Thought I’d check out the town parade and see if it was like I remembered it. To my eye, little had in fact changed. It delivered on all counts you’d expect…a slow moving stream of vehicles inching across the pavement on a blazing July morning: i)pickups with dueling city council members and no frills slogans ii) vintage muscle-car convertibles with this year’s prom queen grinning and waving iii) elaborate or in a few cases comically nonsensical floats on flatbeds, some even with live bands playing on them. Interspersed between floats and cars were swarms of roving children eagerly pelting onlookers lining the parade route in the eye with candy projectiles [note to self: consider safety goggles next year].
On the way home, a few images stayed with me from the morning: a painstakingly restored and spotless, waxed Oldsmobile convertible with a windshield covered in parking tickets; a bus for handicapped children brilliantly hand-painted probably by the kids who depend on it that itself stood disabled in the grassy shoulder of the road; and the bands playing on the flatbeds in the parade. The bands had been playing covers mostly and some blues, some of it improvised. It reminded me of something I had been considering. At times it seems there can be a blurry line between a cover band/bar band/jam band vs. the legions of indie or improvisational bands that haul their tattered briefcase of chord progressions into small bars and venues all over the country. I think about friends Vandaveer holding a crowd enrapt in a the shadowy haze of a French bar or cafe, or These United States bringing a bar or bait shop in Montana to its feet, or for that matter the thundering Shortstack who might just reduce a NY or Virginia bar to a cloud of dust and rubble (no I am not on Adrian’s payroll). I think what defines a band in a given moment can’t just be the performance setting. I mean surely all of these bands might be playing in a bar, improvising a part, or playing a Dylan cover in a bar at a given moment—I know Roofwalkers surely has. And, at that moment the goal might be shared with the precise and well oiled cover band at the bar across the street— a goal of entertaining the crowd and/or honoring a moment of the past. (If the room is empty its more of the latter). But stepping outside this moment these types of bands come across as such different beasts from each other in so many ways— in function, intent, self-regard, and aspiration. All to say, there are moments on stage when you can’t get your head around all the differences quite, but I know they’re there simply because the notion of Roofwalkers trying to legitimately cover the Allman’s Melissa* makes me laugh and probably moreso our listeners. Anyway, it should be clear I mean no disrespect to any of the types of bands I’m discussing here. I do find fascinating the subtle and ambiguous lines of identity in making music. Speaking of identities, an event I love in Washington that has a lot of fun with some of these lines is the annual Run for Cover event held at the Black Cat, where all your favorite local indie musicians band together to be in pitch-perfect cover bands for one nite. Always worth attending for one reason or another. This year its August 1st I think.
*Side note on this—apparently Greg Allman got the idea for this song when he heard a mother calling to her daughter “come back, Melissa!” in the grocery store. When you consider the lyrics, it’s a jump. I like that.