Real Sweatshirt

Thanks to a typically wine-fueled Turntable.fm session with my brother Scott the night before, I got to Schuba’s Friday (a.k.a. Christmas Eve-Eve) with considerably less energy than I would have liked. I was set to open up for All Mods Conned (a.k.a. Who’s This Mary? in Jam-tribute mode) and London Calling (a Clash tribute) as part of Chicago Calling, a years-long tradition, and a benefit for the American Cancer Society.  After a brief sound-check with the amiable soundperson Joey, I wandered up the street to see if there wasn’t something that might revive me.

First, I made a mental note that a nearby corporate-chain coffee shop was open until 9:00.  Then I walked further up Southport…and I didn’t know I wanted sushi until I saw the sign for Sushi Mura, but I did.  In many ways, sushi is the perfect pre-show meal: tasty yet light, and maybe those omega-3′s do something, I’m not sure.  Anyway, the Cubs roll and a bowl of miso soup went a long way towards getting my energy back.

I picked up that corporate coffee on the way back to the club and slammed it in the Schuba’s green room, which I’d never seen before.  I’m sure all the other bands were being social, but I just needed to caffeinate down there, looking at all the Frisbie show posters and predictable Sharpie-rendered genitalia.  I looked for the poster for the first show I went to when I moved to Chicago in 1999 (it was the farewell performance of The Moviegoers), but no such luck.

When I went back upstairs, my friends John and Jenn were there, and we chatted for a bit…but my start time was 9:15, not 9:45 like I’d initially thought.  So I got up there, house about half full, and did it like this:

The Milkman of Human Kindness (Bragg) / Dirty Old Town (Pogues / Ted Leo) / Jeanne (Smiths / Bragg) / The Harder They Come (Jimmy Cliff) / Which Side Are You On? (Bragg) / Goodbye Girl (Squeeze) / Accident Waiting to Happen (Bragg) / (What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace Love and Understanding (Lowe / Costello)

No Funny Business

On the last one, Nick from All Mods Conned was kind enough to jump up and do harmonies on the refrains, and I think I did a decent job of listening closely and keeping the tempo where it needed to be for both of us — playing well with others, in other words.  Maybe I’m getting better at that…  Anyway, he sounded great, and it was an okay set, though it required considerably more concentration than I would have liked.  I mean, I’d spent a lot of time rehearsing for this show, getting the old fingers and wrist up to the task of some fairly speedy (for me) material.  And without beating myself up too much, I failed to honor that effort by partying so much the night before, essentially handicapping myself.  Not that it was a disaster, or even noticeably lacking to anyone who was there.  But it was less fun for ME than I was anticipating, and that’s important, right?  SO!   New rule: no drinking the night before a show.  SORTED!

John and Jenn and  I refreshed our drinks and were up front for All Mods Conned, who were superbly energetic and totally amazing.  I made a note to pick up some damn Jam records already.  We saw their whole set and sampled some of the equally excellent London Calling, though by the time the Clash started, the room was super-packed, and we wanted to do a little catching up.  So we sat in the front room and enjoyed some Rowan’s Creek and had some laughs, which was a warm and wonderful way to start the holiday season.  Plus , they were kind enough to drive me to the Blue Line all the way downtown!  Thanks, guys…

I barely slept, as I had to catch the 7:00 Megabus to Cincinnati.  It was terribly rock and roll.  Thanks to Jeff Krich for sharing his pics with me and to Kevin and Nick and all the guys in both bands for letting me do my little British Folk Revival bit before they systematically tore the roof off!  It was an awesome time.