I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned this blog before, but I’m rather enamored with I Am Fuel, You Are Friends, run by Denver resident Heather Browne. In addition to having pretty similar tastes, we also share a borderline unhealthy affinity for the late, great Jeff Buckley.
Unbeknownst to me — or maybe I just forgot — November 17 was Jeff’s birthday. So in honor of what would have been his 43rd, Browne posted a bootleg of an acoustic performance Buckley gave in Berkeley’s Sproul Plaza in 1995. And it is, predictably, really good. Except for one minor detail: the fucking showtalkers gabbing through the first 4 minutes of the recording.
Now, I received a number of emails following last week’s column rant about showtalkers at a recent Blind Pilot show, many of which suggested I give up my crusade to curb the obnoxious phenomenon. Not because they disagree, mind you. Rather that it is simply a losing cause. And frankly, those folks are probably right. But will I stop? Not a chance. And this is why.
Listen to the show and a take a moment to think about the long-term implications. Here we have two dudes, probably good people, just having a friendly conversation while checking out a show. Seems fairly innocent, right? How could they possibly have known they would single-handedly ruin the beginning of an exceedingly rare live acoustic recording of one of the most tragically iconic singers of the last 25 years? (And yes, we could debate Buckley’s place in the pantheon of dead rock stars. But that’s a discussion for another time. For the sake of argument, just agree with me for now, OK?)
This recording was made in May of 1995, one year after Grace was released and two years prior to Buckley’s death. In other words, he was still a relative unknown at this point in his career, or at least far from the legend he has become posthumously. So as far as these guys knew, they were just catching a good show by a talented up-and-coming songwriter on a lovely day in San Francisco. Kind of like how two weekends ago at the Showcase Lounge, about 150 of us were just catching a good show by a talented up-and-coming band.
See where I’m going with this?
The point is that you never know. Will Blind Pilot ascend to mythical rock and roll status? Honestly, I doubt it. But hey, it’s possible (ish). What’s even more possible is that someday 15 years from now, someone for whom the band profoundly resonated — as Jeff Buckley does for me — might stumble across a bottlegged recording of that show, or one just like it, and have the first three songs ruined by some asshole in a Phillies hat.
So listen to the first four minutes of that Jeff Buckley recording. Annoying as all hell isn’t it? Think about that the next time you’re out at show and about to engage in a conversation that absolutely, positively just can’t wait, and ask yourself if you really want to be that guy. The guy who ruined a great show for all eternity.
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Just because you can’t convince douchebags to stop talking during a show doesn’t mean you shouldn’t bring it up in your column. That’s like telling an anti-war protester to give up. Thanks for the support, guys. Showtalking should be the equivalent of a musical war crime. There’s nothing worse than digging a show but having to overhear some jackass talking about some pedestrian topic that he could cover any old time. Hello, you paid, I paid, we all paid, not to hear you talk about the time you saw this band in California, but to see this band now. If we could only convince the drunk guy screaming “Me gusta!!!” to shuddafu*kup too.
I love you, dude, but stop being such a whiny baby about the showtalking. It happens. If it’s bothering you during a show, be a man and politely say something to the people who are bothering you. If they don’t stop and you’re still pissed, move or, if they’re being REALLY disruptive, ask venue security to do something about it. If you’re not willing to risk direct confrontation, then just deal with it. Complaining about it in your column and on your blog reeks of milquetoast.I admit it – I am an occasional showtalker (especially during opening acts). However, if someone politely asks me to tone it down, I will out of respect for my fellow concert goers (or I’ll move away from them – either way, problem solved). I often get very drunk and forget my place, and it never hurts to be reminded!
Good points all, Ben. But I can’t be everywhere policing the town’s drunken babblers … yet. (Cue ominous music and maniacal laughing.) So my column and blog are my most efficient recourse to air the issue. And judging by how prevalent the phenomenon has been when I’ve been out lately, and the volume of responses I received the last time I wrote about it, I think it is a real issue.I don’t have any qualms about asking offending folks to zip it. And if worse comes to worse, I’ll move. But at this show in particular — and the Low Anthem show I referred to in my column at which Plus One nearly came to blows with a particularly nasty group of chatty cathys — it didn’t matter where we tried to watch the show. They were everywhere.I’m not saying people should observe some strict code of silence when they go see live music. We’re talking about bars, not Buddhist temples here. Ultimately, you’re out to have a good time and sometimes that can get a little loud. I get it. I just wish that more people would take a second to consider their surroundings and respect the listening rights of those around them. Because if you paid good money to see a show, you shouldn’t have to ask for someone to keep it down — or have to move around until you’re out of earshot.
Oh, and before I forget, there is another side to this issue: respect for the performer. The crowd noise during Laura Viers’ set prior to Blind Pilot was nothing short of an embarrassment. Granted, she was obviously sick and not in top form. But she was still very good and frankly deserved better.
Thanks Dan, and I agree with the majority of your points (especially the “respect for the performer”) as well. Perhaps the rallying cry for your column and blog posts should be more along the lines of asking (nay, demanding!) the offended to confront the offenders, rather than just pointing out their douchiness? If more people said something to these (us?) folks directly, I think that there may be the possibility for a cultural sea change amongst the show-going populace of Burlytown. Being anonymously called out in print or on the ‘tubes has nowhere near the effect of having someone get in your face directly (politely, of course).
i guess that’s why loud electric rock tends to be what gets played in bars.although most “acoustic” acts are using the same or more watts of amplification than electric acts.
I fully agree and back up your “showtalkers” stance. I have the same problem whenever I hit up Higher Ground, however I tend to find that the worst offenders are the youngens that go to the shows. Not only do they talk constantly about upcoming illegal activities and complain about how close they are to others (shows are not a place for the claustrophobic, or the germophobic for that matter), they refuse to quite down when asked. I’ve been to shows when it gets so bad you can tell that the act isn’t into the show at all (it’s rather rare not to get an encore from a main act these days, but I’ve seen it a couple of times) and it can usually be traced back to the crowd. It seems as though manners and polite behavior have been lost on the current generation.
The best response I have ever seen from a band to show talkers: Farm played The Skinny Pancake and a rude group of people, after making several unnecessary remarks, told Farm to shut up and turn down their music. Farm’s response: they immediately started one of their loudest songs, 31, and rocked the joint. The group in the corner stopped with the talking and the rude comments.
well, geez. Burlington is just a whisper shy of being as obnoxious as Boston — which many of you no doubt recognize as the World’s Worst City To Attend Or Play A Show. Yakkers galore, (and in Burlington, lots of the yakkers are wearing baseball hats with a “B” on ’em). In a way though, gigging in Burlington toughens your hide. Then when you finally get that gig in NYC and expect the worst, you are greeted by a respectful audience, filled with people who are actually there to WATCH THE SHOW, rather than chat up every person in the room and tell them about their latest, best thing that they did just that day! I was at the Bean awhile back, and there was an absolutely beautiful, quiet set happening, while a dude that runs a club up in (insert smallish college town name here) started carrying on to some gal about the marvelous PHISH shows they’d both just attended, discussing set lists, etc and getting all horny to go and make some heavy jam love. It irked me enough to lean over and say, “you all should just take this little lovefest outside,” and they did.It don’t hurt to remind people that the O.P. is two doors down, or 38 Main, etc. If you’re there for the show, dig the show.Now—the other thing is that I’m guilty of showtalking too. I’ll stop. Right now. Promise.