11
Jun
As reported earlier, I had intended to wallow in teenage nostalgia for an evening and go see Toad the Wet Sprocket, live. That evening was tonight.
A few of things:
1) White people. That’s who listen to Toad the Wet Sprocket. Exclusively.
2) Glen Phillips, lead singer, has a daughter in fifth grade. Dude used to perform live without shoes or socks on. It was his “thing.” And now, he has to explain that stupidity to a child.
3) The entire set was performed a half step down (at least) in comparison to how the songs were recorded. I suppose this was to help Glen’s aging voice, but a pleasant side effect was that all songs fell conveniently in my vocal range for the first time ever.
4) I noticed the half step thing and that makes me totally insane.
All said, their set was pretty amazing. Of the long list of songs I NEEDED to hear, only two were missed. One of those, unfortunately, is my favorite of all their songs and I’m embedding that at the end of this post.
The weirdest part, however, came during the opening act. It was Brian Vander Ark, former lead singer of the Verve Pipe, and current solicitor of boring acoustic numbers about tempting the devil and how lame the suburbs are and blah blah blah. He played a solo set and carried himself with a cocky douchebaggery that I kind of expected from him. He kept telling us about how things are different now. He writes happy songs now. He doesn’t hate his dad anymore. He, too, has a daughter. And he has solo records for sale in the lobby.
He gave us only two Verve Pipe songs, closing with an a capella version of “The Freshmen.” An annoying route to take, for sure, but I actually got kind of choked up over it. It was a really intense reminder of exactly where I was at that very moment. Had he a full backing band and had they torn through a pitch-perfect rendition of the song, I could have easily daydreamed about being in high school again, with nothing but opportunities ahead, and listening to the entirety of Villains on the way to hang out with my girlfriend at her parents’ beach house. But this was very different. It was the act of someone, 13 years removed from when people gave a shit about him, going through the motions of pandering to an audience who couldn’t care less while trying to be accepted for his current, far more mature, creative output. We were definitely in 2008 and I am definitely 30 and I was definitely listening to Brian Vander Ark, solo, as he totally ignored exactly what all of us needed from him… a pristine recollection of our teenage years.
To that end, Toad the Wet Sprocket did NOT disappoint. They were awesome.
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