10.4.04

Since 1998, the voices that have come through the stereo from the Trash Can Sinatras "I've Seen Everything" album were merely nothing but voices. To me, the men behind the voices didn't exist. I couldn't fathom there would be such humans that could walk the same Earth as me and produced such lovely sounds. Or rather, they came from some unnatural place that I would never understand or get to visit.

Since Dan Lurie locked me in his room at the Lakeview Apartments in Athens, Ohio during a ragin' party he was throwing to share with me the mellow sounds of the Sinatras, I was definitely taken back and struck with awe. The feeling that overcame me was the same one I had when I was in sixth grade, in the basement of a neighbors house and I heard Enya's "Caribbean Blue" playing upstairs - I saw the video once on VH-1 a few years before and was struck by its sound and beauty. I never heard it again until that afternoon and ran up the stairs to recapture the same feeling I had when I first heard the song. The neighbors thought I was crazy, but I had always been that way about music. It was that same feeling with hearing tracks from I've Seen Everything. I promptly went out and found a used copy at School Kids Music Store in Athens.

I remember playing that album as a freshman while sitting in my dorm room while my who-i-thought-was-crazy-at-the-time-roommate was out, and it was just me and the music, while the stereotypical blue Christmas lights glowed above our built-in closets and dressers. I remember putting it on during evenings when the rest of the campus was out partying and I opted to just stay at home.

Over time, I learned about new bands and my dear Sinatras gathered dust, but it was revived everyone in a while when a melancholy Sunday called for it. I was on an early, very basic email list through my college years with other TCS fans. They connected me with the hard-to-find Happy Pocket and Cake. I think I've only listened to those albums maybe once or twice in their entirety since owning them, thus probably discrediting me as a real TCS fan. However, I made sure to play them on my short-lived international pop rock radio show at the college radio station.

But when that ol' Dan told me two months ago that they were coming to Seattle to play, I just couldn't believe it. I knew they had been working on an album but had financial difficulties. And also wondered, how many people will really show up? How dedicated are the fans? Will I be able to see them at my  4' 11 3/4" eyelevel?

Purchasing the last ticket at the Sonic Boom Captiol Hill store in Seattle surprised me by the fact that there was only one ticket left. And hope, lots of hope that this was a crazy dream coming true. It's very rare I get to see my most favorite Scottish/U.K. bands play (and I've found I do a have a sick obsession for them).

It was at the Crocodile Cafe, which to me, works as a venue. Stage is high enough where I can actually see the band and it's not too hot. The week had been extremely stressful (totalled my car, had to find a new one and nurse injuries at the same time) and so I suppose the fact that I was seeing them never sunk in. At least not until I got there.

I tend to get bored at concerts, no matter how much I love the band, which I know, sounds hypocritical after spouting off the past 10 minutes about the brilliance of TCS, but well, it happens. I tend to turn into a people-watcher and I knew this crowd would be interesting - not filled with your typical Seattle hipsters. The men were definitely older and there were many shaved heads and polyester short-sleeved button up shirts.  The girls, a little more conservative in their dress. Lots of tall skinny ones. I'd swear though, we were the youngest ones there. Then again, I didn't realize the age of the band members until I went to the web site tonight.

I wasn't sure what to expect when they came out on stage. I was afraid I wouldn't enjoy the concert since I only had "I've seen Everything" memorize and nothing else (I didn't even own the new album!) but that didn't matter. Each song had that TCS quality and charm and they were tight - so tight - You could tell they were definitely a band that had been together for a long time and this was completely natural to them. And it still blew me away that the same voices, melodies and sounds that had been faceless in my mind for seven years were live.

Frank was the most interesting to watch, as the front man usually is. He seemed a bit, ah, out of it I suppose, especially between songs and he seemed impatient while waiting for his fellow mates to finish out the song with their respective notes. But when he was into it, he reminded me of the front cover of Jeff Buckley's "Grace" Album - should be dressed in a bad tuxedo in a 1940s performance hall, with an old fashioned square-looking  microphone. He carries himself like a crooner - he either closes his eyes and "eats" into the microphone, or he's staring out in to the space above the crowds heads but below the ceiling. I suppose sort of losing himself into the song? I don't know, but it was a definite performance style that I'd never seen any of my contemporary bands do before.

But it didn't matter. Close the eyes and it was still the same strong voice. But enough of the oozing cheese drizzle here. It was just damn cool to be able to see this little known band from Scotland that No One Knows About finally perform live. And I'll probably never see them again.

But I'm not done my friends. Oh, I'm so not done.

So after the concert, several of us are just standing around chatting, soaking in what just had transpired, I suppose. I bought the new album "Weightlifting" from the merch table and wandered back into the concert room. For some reason as we turned to walk away for good, I spotted Frank chatting with some members of the crowd and signing stuff. I thought oh lord, I need to do this.

Mind you, I hate being "that fan." I don't know why, but I really do. Yet I got the guts to run up to Dave Matthews after working with his catering crew backstage in 1999 and asked for a autograph. I figured I could do the same here.

Me (actually its not really me, but some weird orb that invaded my body and brain and practically made me lose all sense of speaking, barely able to function and produce noise, much less words, yet a voice in the back of my mind was screaming at the same time): Uh, Hi, would you sign my cover?

Frank: Hello, yes. Uh, what's your name?

Me: Tiffany

Frank: OK (he hesitates for a second to think about what to write).

Me: I've been waiting to see you guys since 1997.

Frank: Ah, well I hope it was worth it.

Me: You don't understand, it totally was. (he hands the cover back to me.) Thanks. (then I watch Dan get his ticket signed by Frank).

I can't decide whether to fall over or jump up and down. The rest of our group gets their stuff signed. I confer with another girl and we both agree that Frank could have said "potato" and that would have made us melt. There is just something about those damn Scottish accents.