![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
just_cydJohn Gillespie and Alexa Rose/Rebecca Jones, Wake Forest Listening Room, Wake Forest, NC
One of the things I admire about John Gillespie is that he just -IS-. I walked into the Listening Room side of Page 158 Books as John was doing sound check, and he greeted me mid-song and then kept going - He had business to attend to, but by golly he was going to acknowledge his friend from three states away had just shown up for him. The black tee and blue jeans he was wearing were what he wore on stage later. No glitz, no glam, no fuss. Well, he might agonize a bit over which black tee to wear, if he feels like making some sort of statement. Tonight was a plain black tee, one fewer distraction from his performance. Alexa and Rebecca were milling about, setting up her merch, Alexa in denim overalls and a sweater, Rebecca in a buffalo plaid shirt and jeans.
An hour or so later, after a disappointing Mac & Cheese dinner at Strike and Barrel a few doors down, I was back in the Listening Room, greeting the manager, Mike Allen, and a growing number of friends I've made since I began this journey nearly two years ago, while grabbing a drink from the bar and claiming the chair closest to the exit. People continued to stream in and mill about, until Mike bounded up on stage to give his quick announcements (bar, restrooms, merch, please don't talk), and indicate the show would begin soon.
John stepped on stage without much fanfare, but that's where the ordinary ended. His first song out of the gate, "Tell You," took off like a shot. I've never seen him so bold, or heard him project so much of himself into his work. He opens his Live At The Eno House album with the same song, but with a bit more restraint. He cranked this up to 11, and never looked back. Stage banter while tuning is a thing ("we tune because we care"), but this, too, was pure professionalism without being smarmy and scripted, singing the praises of our hosts, the headliner, what had passed and what was to come. In a brief moment of humanity, he paused to take photos of the crowd, surprised that he couldn't fit the entire audience into a single frame. Ricky Garni, the photographer for the evening, brought his wide angle up on stage to help out. (those photos are here!). I truly believe John was feeding on the energy of so many friends there to see him, and that professional high that comes from sharing the stage with an idol. John bursting into tears at the end of his final song was a surprise, but not. He is far too genuine and wholly grateful to be anything but overcome with emotion at the outpouring of love shown to him. The day he shrugs something like that off is the day I walk away from him.
John's Set List:
After a break to re-arrange equipment, Alexa took the stage, a false start at first, having left her tuner elsewhere. She made jokes, citing the lack of recent shows. Never mind that she forgot the lyrics to her first song partway through. "We still love you!" I shouted from the back row, hopefully speaking for all assembled that her showing her humanity made her all the more endearing. The Anti-Diva in a calico prairie dress.
When she opened her mouth, what came out was part sound, part emotion, but all bliss. Ethereal, heavenly, songbird-like; those are the words I can pull forth to describe her voice. Clarity like a bell ringing out, effortless. The word "sound" is not nearly polished enough to do justice to an acoustic guitar - truly acoustic in that she played and sang into a single mic - backed alternately by pedal steel or banjo, also picked up by the same single mic. Voice and strings blended so beautifully, I found myself swimming in the sound. It was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. The intimacy contradicted the 100 people in attendance, the speakers overhead and the brand new sound system creating a room in which Alexa and Rebecca were playing to each person individually, until applause brought us back to the reality of a shared experience. The rapt attention of the near-capacity room is a wonder to behold. Mike told us to be quite, and by golly we were.
If the sounds swirling around were magical, then the words carried on those sounds were something beyond that. I find myself lacking the vocabulary required to describe her words. Maybe I should just let her tell you herself.
Another heartbreaker of a song was Tried and True
I scribbled down these words as she sang,but could not find the full lyrics online
Throughout their performances, John and Alexa were just two old friends building each other up without a hint of irony or veiled jealousy. The love flowing through that room was the warm hug we all needed that cold Friday night.
-----
Trip #4, Concert #6
One of the things I admire about John Gillespie is that he just -IS-. I walked into the Listening Room side of Page 158 Books as John was doing sound check, and he greeted me mid-song and then kept going - He had business to attend to, but by golly he was going to acknowledge his friend from three states away had just shown up for him. The black tee and blue jeans he was wearing were what he wore on stage later. No glitz, no glam, no fuss. Well, he might agonize a bit over which black tee to wear, if he feels like making some sort of statement. Tonight was a plain black tee, one fewer distraction from his performance. Alexa and Rebecca were milling about, setting up her merch, Alexa in denim overalls and a sweater, Rebecca in a buffalo plaid shirt and jeans.
An hour or so later, after a disappointing Mac & Cheese dinner at Strike and Barrel a few doors down, I was back in the Listening Room, greeting the manager, Mike Allen, and a growing number of friends I've made since I began this journey nearly two years ago, while grabbing a drink from the bar and claiming the chair closest to the exit. People continued to stream in and mill about, until Mike bounded up on stage to give his quick announcements (bar, restrooms, merch, please don't talk), and indicate the show would begin soon.
John stepped on stage without much fanfare, but that's where the ordinary ended. His first song out of the gate, "Tell You," took off like a shot. I've never seen him so bold, or heard him project so much of himself into his work. He opens his Live At The Eno House album with the same song, but with a bit more restraint. He cranked this up to 11, and never looked back. Stage banter while tuning is a thing ("we tune because we care"), but this, too, was pure professionalism without being smarmy and scripted, singing the praises of our hosts, the headliner, what had passed and what was to come. In a brief moment of humanity, he paused to take photos of the crowd, surprised that he couldn't fit the entire audience into a single frame. Ricky Garni, the photographer for the evening, brought his wide angle up on stage to help out. (those photos are here!). I truly believe John was feeding on the energy of so many friends there to see him, and that professional high that comes from sharing the stage with an idol. John bursting into tears at the end of his final song was a surprise, but not. He is far too genuine and wholly grateful to be anything but overcome with emotion at the outpouring of love shown to him. The day he shrugs something like that off is the day I walk away from him.
John's Set List:
Tell you
Shine
Radiant
Lies
Alive
I Died Too
A Mark
Not Now
Swimming Test
After a break to re-arrange equipment, Alexa took the stage, a false start at first, having left her tuner elsewhere. She made jokes, citing the lack of recent shows. Never mind that she forgot the lyrics to her first song partway through. "We still love you!" I shouted from the back row, hopefully speaking for all assembled that her showing her humanity made her all the more endearing. The Anti-Diva in a calico prairie dress.
When she opened her mouth, what came out was part sound, part emotion, but all bliss. Ethereal, heavenly, songbird-like; those are the words I can pull forth to describe her voice. Clarity like a bell ringing out, effortless. The word "sound" is not nearly polished enough to do justice to an acoustic guitar - truly acoustic in that she played and sang into a single mic - backed alternately by pedal steel or banjo, also picked up by the same single mic. Voice and strings blended so beautifully, I found myself swimming in the sound. It was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. The intimacy contradicted the 100 people in attendance, the speakers overhead and the brand new sound system creating a room in which Alexa and Rebecca were playing to each person individually, until applause brought us back to the reality of a shared experience. The rapt attention of the near-capacity room is a wonder to behold. Mike told us to be quite, and by golly we were.
If the sounds swirling around were magical, then the words carried on those sounds were something beyond that. I find myself lacking the vocabulary required to describe her words. Maybe I should just let her tell you herself.
Human
I want to go downtown and look some stranger in the face
I want to be myself again, remember why I love this place
I want to wake up now and squeeze the living from the day
I want to believe truly everything's gonna be okay
But I'm only human now
I'm as vacant as a drum
Won't you tell me I'm allowed
to be overcome
I wanna feel clean, shiny and new
I wanna wash myself away til I'm just a mirror before you
I want the glossy sheen of a new leaf in the rain
I want a solid color that the seasons never change
But I'm only human now
I'm as vacant as a drum
Won't you tell me I'm allowed
To be overcome
I'm moving through your love like a paddle in the sand
Pretending that it's water cause I want to be an easy woman
I want to take a swim in some frozen channel to
Remember I was dying when I washed up gratefully over you
But I'm only human now
I'm as vacant as a drum
Won't you tell me I'm allowed
To be overcome
I want to make it clear you don't have to speak up to be heard
Sometimes it's even louder to find some quiet in a word
Don't let em change you, kid, that's what somebody said to me
But you know it gets harder to hear myself over all this humanity
I'm only human now
I'm as vacant as a drum
Won't you tell me I'm allowed
To be overcome
To be overcome
To be overcome
Another heartbreaker of a song was Tried and True
I scribbled down these words as she sang,but could not find the full lyrics online
Storms:
I can't pull the weeds from your head, I have to tend my own garden bed
There are storms in you I never saw. I don't need you to tear out all your walls, but I could use a window.
Throughout their performances, John and Alexa were just two old friends building each other up without a hint of irony or veiled jealousy. The love flowing through that room was the warm hug we all needed that cold Friday night.
-----
Trip #4, Concert #6
