so i was in a winery last night, on a very trendy strip of chicago that’s packed with restaurants from famous chefs, and i was there to see a singer-songwriter play a solo show with just his acoustic guitar. the concert tickets assigned you a specific seat in the venue, but not in rows; they were chairs at tables fanning out from the stage, where you would be served by a waiter before, after, and during the show. the friends i went with ordered a carafe of wine & it came in—i swear to god—an actual beaker (like, from a laboratory—with the mL markers up the side & everything). i ordered a can of beer, which was opened in front of me & poured into a very fancy chalice. we were seated less than 10′ from the singer’s microphone stand (and there were others even closer—right up to the edge of the stage, no more than 2′ from our troubador).
i tell you all that because it seems so unexpectedly bourgeois given who i went to that venue to see. i’ve been a fan of the old 97′s for years now, and this show was starring their frontman, rhett miller. i guess you could call them an alt-country band, but that somehow doesn’t do them justice (kinda like that label never really did uncle tupelo justice). in fact, even as a fan of their music, i don’t really know how to do them justice with words. this is no less true even when just talking about a single man, a mic, and his guitar. so i’m gonna need some a/v support on this post.