I Didn't Even Realize it Until I Left

So I went to go see Calvin Johnson, The Microphones, and Get the Hell Out of the Way of the Volcano (it was a K Records tour) play at the YMCA in Racine last night. But I wasn't a very good geek, and I didn't update my site as soon as I got home. Ah well. But man, was this ever fun. I mean really: how can you top a show that starts with a "warm-up" session? Especially when it entails a warm-up called "The Spellcaster?"

See, the Spellcaster works like this. To paraphrase how Calvin Johnson introduced it: "OK, first, take your right arm and extend it all the way out in front of you, like this. Now, take your left arm and extend it maybe halfway out, like this. OK, wiggle your fingers. You're casting a spell. Now's your chance: cast a spell on someone. Pick someone. That's it. Nice." (I realize you may have to physically follow those directions to get a full understanding of what I'm describing, and to get a sense of how funny it is. If you're not laughing, not even mildly now, try it. I guarantee you will at least chuckle if you do. If you don't then, well, I'm so sorry.)

But then there was more: the three of these people, Calvin (who's been in the Halo Benders, Beat Happening, and Dub Narcotic), Khaela (Get the Hell Out of the Way of the Volcano), and Phil (the Microphones) all played songs, both together and on their own. Some of the songs they played were new (at least to me), some were familiar, but most of them were really pretty weird. Also, they took requests, which as far as I can tell was a fairly rare occurrence, given what I understand to be the mob-like atmosphere of just about any show Calvin Johnson is involved with on the West Coast. Well, they sort of took requests. Someone asked that they play a Beat Happening song, "Christmas," but apparently Calvin Johnson couldn't remember it. At least he said he couldn't. But he did say, "well, you can play it, if you want," but the guy didn't take him up on the offer. Too bad.

But seriously, I think I've yet to communicate just how neat this thing was. This was not a show at all, in the traditional sense. It was more like fifty people hanging out and messing around with instruments, and for the most part it didn't matter if any of us knew how to play, or sing, or even keep a beat. There was no stage, no bar, no smoky atmosphere. In fact, it was all played under florenscent lights (as these pictures show), and we, the audience, could sit wherever we wanted.

I needed this show. I needed to be there. I didn't even realize it until I left.