Nick Lowe at the Fillmore
I've always liked and respected Nick Lowe, but over the years our relationship has been of the casual variety. "Cruel To Be Kind" enjoys a strong rotation on my iPod, but I only own one album (Jesus of Cool). However, after seeing him this weekend, I am officially in love. And certainly ready to make a serious commitment.
Imagine a brilliant songwriter, a guitar and you, safely nestled with a few other fans at a legendary San Francisco rock club. Now, imagine yourself surrounded for about 90 minutes by a sea of perfectly crafted three-minute pop songs. My new music boyfriend, Nick, is touring with Robyn Hitchcock, but I have to admit, I can take Robyn or leave him. He's a good songwriter, too, I suppose, but nothing to write home about (sorry, Robyn).
Nick serenaded me, Bill, Kim and Katie, along with the rest of the crowd, for over an hour, and when he ended with "What's So Funny 'Bout Peace, Love and Understanding," (yes, made famous by Elvis Costello but written by Nick), I was so happy, I was near tears. For an encore, Nick brought Robyn back and they treated the audience to several cover tunes, including the Beatles' "If I Fell." Then sadly, the lights started to come up, and the house music began to play.
Not so fast.
Forget about little, lovesick me, Nick quickly learned that he couldn't just just walk out on the dozens of stoned Baby Boomers and their Gen X friends who populated the Fillmore that night. About five minutes of continuous cheering and clapping later, we had all succeeded in bullying Nick Lowe back onstage for two more songs. I don't think I've ever seen a second encore begin after the house lights and music had come up.
He may be almost 60, but nonetheless I repeat, Nick Lowe is my new music boyfriend.
Another new boyfriend of mine is DJ El Guapo, the man in charge of Teenage Kicks at the Attic. Tom and I took residence on a couple of barstools there on Friday night, and it was a delicious experience. Once the music started, poor Tom had to deal with me repeatedly stopping the conversation mid-sentence to bop my head to the beat and proclaim how happy I was. I didn't even know most of the songs Mr. Guapo (okay, his real name is Victor) played, but I loved them all just the same. The songs I did know were choice, too, including the Records' "Starry Eyes," which you never hear anywhere these days. I probably scared Victor a little bit because I had to gush over his song choices more than once, but everyone likes having a fan, right?
I think Teenage Kicks happens the second Friday of every month. Well, whenever it is, I intend to be there for it.