barry burton
the SummerStage
Monday night I saw the Decemberists (with a little help from Land of Talk and Grizzly Bear). They played Central Park. The surroundings were great, though the audio system was woefully unprepared to handle the openness of the outdoor venue. It wasn’t that loud, but the speakers were nonetheless distorting all of the highs like it was their job. But the music was great - the opening bands were both good in their own right, and apparently it is actually cooler to have liked local band Grizzly Bear better than the now too popular Decemberists. What can I say? I’m neither local nor cool. Colin made their set a lot of fun, directing various zaniness on stage and getting the crowd involved.
As for not being a local, read on. We were standing pretty close up to the stage. Not ridiculously close, but I’m actually interested in this band and seeing how they make their music close. About fifteen or twenty minutes into the Decemberists set, I start hearing loud conversation behind me. Mind you, by loud I mean it is distracting, even when competing with the band playing. It continues, so I turn to glare at what turns out to be a forty-ish looking couple. They were pretty fat, so I guess they could have been in their thirties. Judging from their speech and movements, they were pretty drunk. They didn’t notice my glare, so I said “Seriously, guys, come on”, while my eyes continued to disapprove. Everyone else around the couple quickly looked to me, giving the knowing glances of shared annoyance. However, they continued their conversation, its inanity equaled only by its volume.
Throughout the next song or two, various other ill-fated attempts at communicating displeasure were made by other show-goers in the vicinity. One particularly egregious action was taken by the chubby boy on the couple’s right. He began screaming the words to the songs through a makeshift poster-megaphone. He couldn’t sing, so I assumed him to be the youngest member of the most annoying family ever, on their traditional family-inebriation-Monday outing. After informing him that we had come to hear the Decemberists and not him, he assured me that he was only carrying out his brilliantly devised plan to get the couple to keep it quiet. I assured him that he wasn’t helping.
The last straw came when Colin was talking between songs, and I could literally not understand what he was saying because of the constant drunken droning behind me. I turned back around and semi-politely explained that if they wished to talk that they should leave, as everyone around them was trying to listen. The woman protested that it was between songs, to which I replied that I still wished to hear what was said. I was then joined by chorus of people around them, all agreeing. To this the woman observed (I’m not sure if just to me, or to everyone, but I think to everyone) “Clearly you aren’t from New York, because this is just how people act at concerts here”. She went on to explain how it was normal to talk between songs (even though she was talking all of the time) and that I should ask nicely if I expected her to comply with my abhorrent-in-NYC request. Instantly looks of appall were shot back at her from all around, but no more was said because the next song started.
In the silence after that song, the man from the couple leaned forward, sort of bumped into me, and with fragrant alcoholic breath informed me that they would now be quiet so that I could hear. I thanked him and told him that I appreciated it. He was rendered nearly speechless by the towering wittiness (?) of my comeback, and after great pause, he could only explain that it was a really good comeback. Seriously? Luckily after another song or two, they left.
Things were looking up and then became fabulous when the Decemberists played a super dramatic and fun version of The Mariner’s Revenge Song. I liked it a lot. (Even if they do indeed play it at every show. This fact is, however, not known to me, as I have only seen them twice, last night.)
In summary, there are jerks in New York City, it just took me a bit longer to find some there. However, I’m happy to finally have a jerk New Yorker experience under my belt. I now feel like a slightly less fleeting temporary visitor, and it feels good. :)
