Sunday, March 6, 2005

Slobberbone, we hardly knew ye...

"Well I've seen you hanging around for awhile,
And I wish that you'd just go away
Cause I've been stuck in this old town for awhile,
And this town has seen it's better days"

(Slobberbone - "I'll Be Damned")


SLOBBERBONE @ THE 400 BAR - MINNEAPOLIS, MN - 3/5/05

Well, that was fun.

Slobberbone's au revoir to the Twin Cities was everything I would want a farewell gig to be - loud, joyous, emotional and, mo' definitely, rockin'. Hell, that's what I wanted every 'bone gig to be. To their credit, they usually rose to the occasion. Last night they delivered in spades. I'm happy to report that there were no fistfights or long faces. The crowd was just one big drunk, happy family - peace and happy vibes seemed to rule the moment. People loudly cheered each fave song and I saw so many people singing along that I was moved to ponder why bands break up when they have such a devoted fan base, no matter what the size. Well, maybe I just answered my own question...

I'll admit to be a bit anxious after hearing about what apparently was an off nite in Chicago; those damn Internets. But after over 2-1/2 hours of drunken revelry at the 400, the exhausted crowd - and band - knew that they had just participated in something special. Brent gave a couple special shout-outs to the packed house - changed the lyrics in "Lumberlung" to "we headed up towards the land of 10,000 lakes" and offered up a "this town has always been our favorite place to play" hosanna that seemed more genuine than boilerplate - but the long, long show was basically just a whole lot of what they've always done best. I wouldn't have expected anything less - or more, for that matter.

A couple statistical observations: this was about twice as many people as I've ever seen at a S-bone show in MN, dating back to The Turf Club in 1997, and they played about twice as long as I've ever seen them play up here. It figures - I was just kvetching about them never doing "marathon" sets in MN and, bam, that's exactly what they do. Maybe I should've bitched about them not breaking up enough.

The band seemed to be in fine spirits all night; if there are any underlying "issues" amongst the boys, they weren't on obvious display. Speaking of spirits, "drinking breaks" occurred at regular intervals during the set as a steady succession of shots, drinks and beers made their way to the stage. During other intervals, Brent solicited questions from the audience and offered several heartfelt "thank yous" to the increasingly soused punters who were depleting the 400's always shaky booze inventory at an alarming rate. To say that this was a "drinking crowd" would be a severe understatement.

I'll leave the setlist details to the historians, but they played some things I've never experienced in person and/or haven't been played regularly since the last century ("Front Porch," "Get Gone Again," a nice "trio" version of "One Rung" while Jess fixed a string). And, much to my surprise, they finally played friggin' "Some New Town," a song Brent said he used to hate playing - in spite of all of the requests, which he said he hated even more - but now has grown to enjoy doing live. He said something about "the distance of time" having a healing effect, a statement that rung more than a little poignant on this particular night.

Like a giddy fanboy, I kept thinking during the show, "wow, this has to be my _favorite_ S-bone song ever - cool." Thankfully, this happened several times: "Billy Pritchard," "Lumberlung," "Barrel Chested," "Your Excuse," "That is All," etc. "I'll Be Damned" was especially memorable with the crowd roaring along during the chorus like a bunch of drunken soccer hooligans. Lots of requests from long-time fans went unfulfilled: "Tilt-a-Whirl," "Meltdown," "Josephine" - and "Placemat Blues" was kinda conspicuous by its absence - but after a sweaty 2-1/2 hours I didn't hear anyone complaining.

The encore was a 1-2 punch of special covers. Soul Asylum's "Cartoon" was first, only the second time I've heard them violate the "motherland rule" up here. Brent once said that MN is the "motherland to all that is good and true about rock 'n' roll," a testament to his love of bands like SA, The Mats, Jayhawks, etc. Anyone familiar with Slobberbone's rich history of great covers has probably heard winning renditions of "Martin's Song," "Can't Hardly Wait" or "Cartoon" at some time over the last 10 years. Brent had steadfastly resisted requests for those songs during their many visits here, citing the "motherland rule" each time, until they finally fell off the wagon on one of their last visits, which, I guess, was something of an omen. Speaking of Soul Asylum, Brent was jumping for joy when my friend Caffeine Zombie gave him a SA boot after the show ("Platinum Punks" I think) that sported a cover of "Free Bird," a song that S-Bone has also butchered in the past.

The night started out with a Neil Young cover ("The Days That Used to Be") and it ended the same way. "Big Time" is just one of many Neil songs in the 'bone arsenal, but some of the lyrics seemed tailor-made for the occasion and hit home like a ton of bricks: "I'm still living the dream I had / For me it's not over." And, on this night, they tore it up in a manner that woulda made the master proud.

After "Big Time," Brent and Brian - clearly not wanting to leave - spent several minutes on stage "performing" a feedback jam that I suppose you could say was a "cover" of the "migraine" segment of Wilco's "Less Than You Think." Brent was crouched over his guitar on the floor while Brian was fiddling with his bass perched atop the bass amp. Eventually, Brian went to the front of the stage, stretched his arms out and slowly fell into the crowd. I was then shocked to look up and see a cadre of fans literally running full steam towards the back of the club while carrying Brian high in the air. It was truly one of the damnedest things I've seen at a rock show in ages.

For the entire show, well over 150 minutes, I stood in one place - right smack in the middle of the crowd - wanting to soak up every last bit of Slobberbone I could before their existence was consigned to fading memories and digital artifacts. They were every bit as good as I've ever seen them, maybe even better, which made the whole experience even more bittersweet and maudlin than I could've imagined.

After the show, the boys "worked" the crowd just like at a funeral, only this one was their own. My wife and I spent a few minutes giving our best to Brent as we reminisced about good times past, mutual friends in Texas and Neil Young. As we turned to leave, my wife hugged Brent and gave him a kiss on the lips. He then suddenly grabbed me and did the same, which, given the circumstances, seemed strangely appropriate. Talk about being "touched" by a performance!

My lasting visual image of the whole night is one that is rather fitting given the subject matter of many of Brent's best songs. After the crowd cleared out, the floor of the 400 looked like a bomb had gone off. I've never seen so many beer bottles littering a small club; it was actually hard to walk, and there were more than a few people who were already having trouble in that department. I took a quick pic of the debris with my cell phone cam. In the future, when I'm feeling nostalgic, I'll look at that pic as I crack open a beer and put on "Barrel Chested," feeling that happy/sad tingle that fans know all too well after one of their faves decides to walk that long walk.

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