Just Cyd.

Jeffrey Dean Foster and The Arrows with Florence Dore, Gas Hill Drinking Room, Winston-Salem, NC, Saturday, February 15

While I love making the most of my trips south, hotel hopping is not my favorite part. Alas, it is sometimes required to make the most of my trip, or in this case, when a second show presents itself and it makes sense to book the closer-to-home second-night show with a closer-to-home hotel. Which is how I found myself staying at a different Hanes Mall hotel off Silas Creek Parkway near the hospital in Winston-Salem (aka The Ben Folds Five song). It was a dreary drive in, and I had to kill time before hotel check-in, so, among other things, I drove to the venue to assess the parking situation, but not before I had a message from Foster himself, asking if I would kindly be is Mistress of Merch that night. His partner, J, was back stateside but still very sick, and wouldn't make the show that night. I agreed without hesitation, since it's a low-stakes gig that involves parking my butt in the back of the venue (on a stool!) and chatting up anyone who happened by. We've known each other 11 months at this point, but have grown close chatting after shows and between visits, and it pleases me to no end that he thinks enough of me to ask me to handle his merch and money.

Buried in my perpetually-half-packed suitcase I unearthed the JDF Angel Skull t-shirt, and decided to go for it, figuring the only more ridiculous thing I could wear would be the lowest-cut top and pushy-uppest bra in the arsenal. I was shaking off my earlier mood, and was full-on extrovert by the time I sauntered through the doors just minutes after they opened.

"Can you let Jeffrey know his Merch Bitch is here?" I beamed upon entering, and had at least three different people cracking up at this. When Jeffrey popped out from behind the scenes (actually the upper level of the Ramkat proper), I repeated my statement, to his distress, and let him know I was his bitch for the night. Pushing it? yeah, probably. I later told his partner J of this exchange and she thought it was hilarious. Always be on good terms with the other half.

I took some really bad photos and even worse video (still uploading). The crowd wasn't huge, but they were ALL IN, which is fantastic ... until you're trying to push merch on people who've known the band for decades. Florence was a treat, and talking with her husband, Will Rigby, turns out he's the drummer for The dBs, and had played in Dayton back in the late 70s "at some place in a parking garage?" Yup, I know the place: Gilly's. It's closed now, but was the OTHER musical institution in Dayton for years and years (the first being Canal Street Tavern, of course).

Florence has a book out, called The Ink in the Grooves: Conversations on Literature and Rock & Roll that sounds freaking amazing. oh, and she's a professor at UNC Chapel Hill.

Clearly, this is not a concert review. I was mentally bouncing all over the place, enjoying the music but not capable of retaining anything remotely pertinent to writing a review. I think we were all a little out of sorts, just three weeks into the new regime and reign of terror. "Fuck that guy," indeed.

Bonus: Gas Hill has an Art-o-Mat!

sigh. maybe i'll revisit this one? maybe I won't. it was a rough weekend. not as bad as that triple-header a couple weeks prior, but clearly, these are troubled times and I need to do something about it.

John 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:

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

One week ago I got to cross a biggie on my mental checklist: MEET MARK KANO AND HEAR HIM PERFORM IN PERSON.

Ok, technically those could be two different things, but really, I've been able to meet everyone I've seen perform, so we'll count it as one.

The Venue: The Corner is this community space on the NC State campus. It's a pretty cool setup, but not the most accessible. There is an incline to get into the place, and it's all grass and such, so footing can be sketchy. A couple of the shipping containers have seating in them for dining, and That Station had probably 50ish folding chairs set up, while others brought camp chairs.

Mark and Mike at soundcheck, via Facebook

I've seen Mike a couple times before, and while I didn't tell him I was coming, as soon as he saw me across the grounds, he recognized me and brought Mark over to meet me. if that isn't an ego boost, I don't know what is! I'm sure it helped that I had on my bright green Dunleath Porchfest tee. We said hello, and Mike introduced me to Mark, and gave him the quick-and-dirty on my road-tripping and when/where we met. Mark was suitably impressed, and then immediately apologized for his voice - he'd been sick that week, and was struggling with some of the notes. They were, in fact, adjusting their set list to accommodate Mark's limitations, and he hoped I wouldn't be too disappointed.

The program was called Artist Notes, and they get the artists to play music and talk about their careers. They opened with Flat Tire, one of Atheneaum's hits, and played a nice mix of band and solo stuff while they talked about how they met (Mike was at the show where Mark and Nic Brown crashed John Gillespie's set), the differences between having a major record label and releasing stuff independently, what advice they'd give their kids, and what the future has in store.

It was about an hour total, and when they were done, Mark turned to Mike and said "I think we've got a couple more in us, what would you like to hear?" and the request-fest began. They played Comfort, Haircut, and the Collapsis song Wonderland, which I didn't recognize because I haven't really listened to that particular album.

After the show, I meandered my way up to the stage, and first talked to the DJ. I suspect he'd have talked to me more, but he was also chasing his 3yr old. Got to spend some time talking to Mike, and when I mentioned gifting someone the Collected Stories of Amy Hempel, his face lit up. He's got a copy of Tumble Home on his desk at work. so we talked a bunch about her and books in general, and it was so cool to make that sort of connection. I eventually got to say goodbye to Mark, who gave me a quick hug and thanked me for making the trek. As we started heading to our cars, I mentioned that John Gillespie speaks highly of him, and Mark, in turn, started raving about what a fantastic songwriter and human that John is, and NC Musicians' Lovefest added another chapter.

I didn't get pictures with either of the guys, and that's OK. It's really not my vibe, to get selfies and autographs and such. I'd much prefer chatting and nerding out over whatever it is we have in common, and make that personal connection. I got a couple pics of them from afar, took video of some of the songs. that, and the memories, are all I really need.

Asheville was the first city to get a repeat visit, but The Eno House is officially the first venue I've been to more than once on this musical road-tripping of mine. John Gillespie of Nikki Meets the Hibachi got to open up for his musical hero Alexa Rose, and it was a delight from start to finish.

[let's get the obvious out of the way. Privately I've slipped and called her "Alexis Rose" and only once, privately, made an "ew David!" crack. No on else appeared to make such faux pas publicly, and for that I was relieved]

Although it was just my second visit, three separate people knew me and greeted me like a long-time friend. First was Richard Greenway, the pastor that runs the place; followed quickly by John, who ran through a flurry of emotions at me actually making the drive to hear him perform; and then Mike Allen, owner of the Wake Forest Listening Room and one-half of the duo responsible for my initial, and personal, introduction to Darren Jessee.

Just like in January, the space filled up quickly, and the energy was amazing. Another one of those "no matter what happens, this will be worth it. I young couple came in just before things got going, and i waved them over to my table. They'd come over from Durham, first-timers, so I shared what I knew of the place. After the usual introductions by Rich, John Gillespie took the stage. It was just him, a microphone, and this odd-to-me little hybrid acoustic/electric guitar. It was John's earnestness that drew me back to see him again, and he did not disappoint. One of the songs he played was just released on Bandcamp - Letter Never Sent. Go give it a listen.

John had the pleasure of introducing the headliner, Alexa Rose. All I knew of her going in was his cover of her song Anywhere, Ohio, and that he was full-on fan-girling over her. His admiration of her was so pure, and he was so overcome with emotion that I don't think he got through any of the intro or her performance without shedding tears.

Only got the one picture of them and what you can't tell is that she's fighting with her tuner and apologizing to us for the trouble. She and Josh Oliver sang and played beautifully, using no amps, just a single mic. They'd move in closer or back up to change the sounds, and it worked beautifully. Bill West (the sound guy) really knows his stuff.

First concert of the year was last month! I should really write about it.

I drove to Hillsborough, NC to see Mike Garrigan at the Eno House Artists Den. He was the opener for his friends Nikki Meets the Hibachi, and they were both amazing!

On the accessibility front, the Eno House is an old boxy church with half a dozen steps to get inside. There is a ramp up the side, which I'm sure could be used if needed. Once inside, everything was on that one level (including restrooms), and the only issue with navigating would be once the place got packed full and extra chairs were brought out to accommodate everyone. Dunno if it was a sell-out, but it certainly was well-attended. My hopes of seeing other musicians, like Darren or Zach or Mike's former bandmates, were dashed, but there were a LOT of people there I didn't recognize who appeared to be part of the NC/Piedmont music scene, so that's cool.

The place was well-staffed, all with people in black "STAFF" tshirts. Very official. the building is a de-commissioned church, but loosly affiliated with a nearby church, and the money raised was going to help fund a literacy camp for the neighborhood kids. The building serves as a community center now, with all manner of things available. Kinda wish I lived closer so I could attend the weekly writers workshop.

The room was set up with small round tables up front with 4 chairs each, then a few rows of old pews, then tall bistro tables and stools behind that. I picked the table up front on the far right, opposite side of the place from the vintage Steinway. It was set up so Mike would be facing the same direction as me; I couldn't see his face, but I could see his hands. I also prefer to be out of the way and have a view of the whole room, even if I'm not near an exit. He was milling about, talking to people, looking very Corporate Dad. He did not make it over to me, and about 7:15 or so, he started to play. He had an actual set list on his phone, which he set on the piano. He opened with The Architect, which he wrote as an intro-to-a-set piece. He spoke a bit between songs, talking about the new ones and the old, how some of them came to be, etc. he had to turn quite a bit to see the full room. He was playing all of my faves (but let's face it, all of his songs are my faves right now), but he was pretty far in and had not yet played Dive.

You see, at the beginning of the year I signed up to be an annual supporter of his on Bandcamp. He made a post in the community sharing that he'd be recording all of his shows this year, and sharing the best of each, and if we had any requests to please let him know. A few people discussed what they'd like to hear in general. I posted that I would be at the Eno House show, and would like to hear Dive. He said he'd get it on the set list. I didn't know if he'd just play it, and that would be that, or if he would say it was a request and pitch Bandcamp, or what. Near the end of his set, he turned to the audience and asked "Was there someone flying? driving? in from Ohio for the show?" "yep! that's me" i piped up and shot up my hand. He had to turn quite far to see me, but did make eye contact. he turned back to the microphone and asked "and did you have a request you wanted me to play?" and did the huge fake winking thing at me. while people chuckled, he stage whispered "we worked this out in advance" to more laughter. I spoke up, quite clearly, and confirmed "yes, I would love it if you would play Dive" and then did my best to keep my shit together while he sang his heart out. as soon as the song was over, a guy behind me tapped me on the shoulder as he got up and said "good call on requesting Dive" and I thanked him.

As soon as Mike's set was over, he made a beeline over to me. one of his first questions was "so, do you know people down here...?" and was appropriately shocked when I said no. gave him the tl;dr version of living my life, and mentioned I'd be back for Tom Maxwell's book release. after a few minutes, he moved on, and the second band hit the stage.

Nikki Meets the Hibachi is yet another "wow, how did I not know about them???" gems. Elaine and John, on acoustic guitars, singing with harmonies. SOLD. and they are both just the nicest people you'll ever meet. It must be a requirement for NC musicians or something. They had some backing from Amy Ray to get an EP out a while back, but have been at this since the late 80s. there were some tech issues that i didn't really notice but had them fussing, and things ran a bit late ("I promised some people they'd be outta here by 9; some of us have to go to work tomorrow"), but it was just amazing. Got to talk to John Gillespie after the show, and he is also sweet as pie (and has really soft hands - how does a guitarist get soft hands?). mentioned to him and to the Eno House people that they need to get Darren Jessee to play there.

I'm not going to separate my venue review for this show, because the Moody Motel is a private residence! It's been a decade or two since I've been to a house concert, but they are increasingly popular with the small bands I'm seeing on all the socials. the hosts were fantastic, the event was in their front room, with room to move about in the kitchen and living room behind, so accessibility would've only been an issue had we arrived super-late and had to park far away. Lights were dim in the front and back rooms, with lots of candles (most electric) and other dim lighting to set the mood. I spied a kitty at one point, who was clearly not a fan of the crowd.

A house concert is nothing like a show at a bar. We were greeted by Jill, who welcomed us warmly and shared my joke about our mothers haunting us if we didn't do right as hostess and guest (her showing us around, and me producing the baked goods and beer to be shared). I'd been commenting on the Instagram posts, so once the word "cookies" was sounded, several people approached me to say hi and confirm i really DID drive in all the way from Ohio. A few were shocked to hear this was my 5th show of the year. One guy, Lance, pulled me aside and asked how I found out about Darren's shows, as he's yet to figure out how to get the info to come to him. I told him I stalk IG/FB and his website, but that the summer shows first appeared on Spotify. I joked that I was going to demand Darren let me take over his social media, but I wasn't 100% kidding.

The vibe was nice and chill, and eventually I saw Darren and Zach and waved hello, figuring we'd chat at some point. Many people were meeting them for the first time, and let's face it, we're old friends by now. heh. Ben was rather subdued, but introduced himself around, and the "where do you live?" game was played. He lives by a drive-in theater on the south side of town, which everyone immediately knew of. It was that or use the uber-racist name for the neighborhood. Eventually someone recognized his Pedro t-shirt du jour, and the two of them launched into Pedro-talk for quite a while.

At one point, Darren approached me and began talking about the book I'd given him, and how some friends of his spoke highly of her, and how much he enjoyed it. He's got such a soft voice that he's hard to hear in loud rooms, but it was a lovely conversation. He'd read Al Jolson, and talked about the chimp/gorilla that lied, and compared it to his line "I'm the boy who fell in and got the gorilla killed" -- the actual meaning being doing something for one reason but it having vastly different (bad) consequences. I chided him for the Harambe reference and confessed I have a very hard time seeing past the literal meaning of that line. I spoke a bit about how Hempel is the reason I write, and have been writing since I was a teen, and the challenges I have writing fiction. As always, there wasn't enough time, and he got pulled away by someone else.

Lance, another super-fan, had a box full of albums he wanted Darren to sign, but did not have with him the three that were for sale. He asked if I had paypal; I do. Then he asked if I had Venmo. I do. Darren was accepting Venmo (that's new), but Lance only had PayPal, so he asked if he could PayPal me the $$ for the albums, and I make the purchase via Venmo. I agreed. we completed the transaction, and I put in the note "for Lance, i promise!" and made him go tell Darren, so Darren wouldn't get mad at me. That was the first time I've ever seen Darren with his phone out, and it was just long enough to see the transaction, and then it was back into his pocket. an aside -- the cash price for his albums has always been $20. This is the first I've seen him take venmo, and I was happy to see the price increase, if only to cover the transaction fees associated with digital payments.

Then out of nowhere, Jay Gonzalez started playing. The show was a sell-out (40 people) and it got a little tight as we all moved forward to better hear and see. at one point, Jay had a tiny keyboard (smaller than a melodica) strapped to his guitar and was playing both. crazy. He didn't sound anything like Drive By Truckers, but I didn't hate it. after one song, he quipped "I'd always wanted to write a bosa nova about cunnilinguis" and the crowd lost it.

Eventually Darren and Zach took the floor, and Ben and I moved over to the side, on their right, to have a better view. I know that Darren often turns to look at Zach while playing, and when he plays his keyboard he'd be facing us, and that's what I wanted. Going into the show he was very calm and relaxed. He'd had a beer or two, and he really seemed to be vibing. At one point, he said "Zach, it's too quiet. Can someone grab something off a shelf and break it?" and we all chuckled. none of the bar background noise, no people coming and going, no TVs or loud conversations, just 40 people focused on the music. Some where there for Darren or Jay; others were there because they'd attended prior events and loved the atmosphere. either way, we all wanted to be there. Ben commented later that a few times Darren looked very please with himself, like he'd hit a chord/note just right, and had that look of bliss when things just line up perfectly. I have to agree. He got a little funky with the phrasing in a few songs which was nice to hear, loosening up a bit. Zach didn't have a microphone, so his harmonies weren't nearly as prominent, but he still added a lot to it. He played a song or two I'd not heard him play this year, but still no Wild Ascending Blue. I need to ask him about that; I'm guessing there's just not room in the Subaru for a 2nd acoustic guitar?

After the show we got to chat with Zach, and someone asked how he and Darren got connected. Zach had been hired to be a guitar tech for Hiss Golden Messenger when Darren was playing drums, and they toured together. sometiem after that, Darren called him up. Zach is in his own band, Canine Heart Sounds, where he plays keys and guitar and drums, plus sings. We talked with others that we hadn't seen prior to the show, and had many a good laugh with other fans. it was also quite apparent that the crowd was pretty queer-leaning, and the Moodys were queer-friendly. they had a rainbow flag in the main room with the words "abide no hatred" and the sign on the bathroom door was the one with "whatever, just wash your hands" on it. Ben loved it.

I'd told Ben prior to the show that his mission, if he was up for it, was to get a pic of me with Darren. I've never bothered to even ask up until now, but figured I could make my friend be The Bad Guy :) so finally, I have proof that I've met Darren Fucking Jessee. Ben only took the one shot, and Darren was mid-blink, but that's OK, there's other photos, and it was a perfect way to end the night.

This will shake out to be the second most interesting venue at which I've seen Darren this year. Why? because it's it's a freaking record store!! Citizen Vinyl is a bar, cafe, shop and honest-to-goodness record-pressing operation, all housed in the old Citizen Times building. They do tours (no fee, but reservations required, not fully accessible), and from the tiny bit I did get to see, it'd be worth going back. There was a small dumbwaiter in the ladies room! about the size of a microwave, and it appeared to still be functional. I was good and refrained from messing with it.

getting to the venue wasn't terrible, but like most southern/Smokies cities, the streets run crazy, and there was construction as well. The lot I'd picked for parking showed it was full, but after looping around, I tried again and was able to play the crip card at one of three spots at the exit at street level. It was one block down and half a block over to the entrance, also at street level. The area seemed pedestrian friendly and the hip and cool place to be.

there were two sets of double doors to get through, but they had both opened up. Just inside was a guy with a setup taking names or money for tickets. I didn't need to show my e-ticket, just give my name. just past him was the seating - a variety of chairs, about 60 total, in a small auditorium setup. the stage was to the left inside the doors, and the black backdrop was hiding what I believe was the record pressing area. behind the chairs was the bar, and just off the bar was a flight of stairs leading to balcony seating. I did not see an elevator to get to that upper level, but I also didn't ask. I also didn't see any sort of lowered section of the bar for chair users. The restrooms were straight back across from the entrance, and mostly blocked by a partial wall displaying art, a nice touch after the direct-line into the mens room at Flat Iron. It only occurred to me now that in terms of accessibility, there was no auto-door opener. I don't need that yet, at least not out in the wild.

The place was well-staffed by incredibly friendly people, and I'm sure if I'd had an issue, they would have gone to great lengths to accommodate me. I stumbled a bit when I first got there, and the one guy nearly tripped over himself trying to help me stay upright and get to a seat.

So, overall, average accessibility for an urban environment, friendly staff, and interesting enough to want to return

Popped down to Greensboro yesterday to see a show at Flat Iron in Greensboro. Oh, what do you mean most people don't take a jaunt of 450 miles for 45 minutes of music by their favorite performer?

They look to hold an eclectic schedule of events, with Night of the Living Dead the feature this Friday the 13th, and various and sundry musicians every weekend.

Their website covers most of what a newbie would need to know. Never did figure out the Children's Museum parking thing, but that's ok.

Finding it - it's on a main road, just a block north of the Steven Tanger Center for the Performing Arts, which was also having an event that night. Traffic was a bit spicy, but well-controlled. I took the venue's advice and went for the Davie St Parking Deck ("parking garage" up here), and was able to play my crip card for a swift street-level spot facing the road I'd need to walk up. Parking was supposed to be $10 paid at the exit; by the time I left, I got out w/o paying. win!

The walk up was a straight shot, about 3 blocks, well lit with small little eateries on the opposite side of the street. Felt 100% safe. Crossing Lindsay St everything went from high-end well-lit to normal old-school neighborhood. I hadn't had time to check this all out before sundown, but I'd done a virtual walkthrough on Google Maps, so I was good with it.

Building was well-marked, and there was nothing more than a standard threshold to the entry - no stairs or anything. the turn to get into the venue might be tight for a chair user, but nothing there seems permanently fixed, it's more various things to block the line of sight from the street to the stage. a couple guys out front smoking were friendly when I approached (employees), and the guy working the door was similarly friendly checking my e-ticket. Another reminder to me that scruffy unshaved tattooed guys aren't scary.

The men's room was straight back on the left side of the bar, right next to the stage. o.O the ladies' was on the other side of the bar, luckily. Again, no stairs or anything, but navigating that corner might be hard if the place is crowded. there was a partial stall w/o a door, so the door to the restroom itself had to be locked, which I nearly didn't see at first. oops.

The bar had 15 or so stools, plus 4 tables up front with stools. another half-dozen were against the far left wall by the stage, which is where I camped out, in front of the sound board. Didn't realize til too late that the stage was angled a bit towards the corner of the bar. ah well. They had two cameras on the stage - one straight on from the sound board's perspective, and one 90 degrees off that. each projected to a nice monitor in the bar area, so you could still see the full performance. no idea if it was just for real-time broadcast or if they were filming for the artists. Stage was crowded with five guys and a host of instruments, and this was AFTER the opener took their gear down; those two didn't have any room to move at all.

They had the typical bar drinks menu, with a few non-alcoholic options, too. My Liquid Death was $4.50, less than at Bogarts. They don't serve any food, but did have a popcorn machine going, and a giant water jug next to it. Standard bar stuff.

The location is sort of off by itself; on my way back to my airbnb, i ended up going through the neighborhood with the hip shops/bars/cafes. S Elm St, I think, on the south side of Downtown, near Southside. Would definitely see another show there! The Finns have a two-night holiday show in December that I'd kill to be at, but that's really pushing my luck ...