Many of us have gone to a concert with a parent before. Usually in our preteen years, there was a comically bad show by New Kids On The Block or equally revolting band that we just HAD to attend. Dutifully, the rents escorted us and endured the soul-crushing, focus-grouped "music," because they loved us. Ungrateful little bastards that we were, all we thought about then is how we had no hope of looking cool in this exciting, new social setting with Mom and Pop right by our side. I'd like to think I matured past this aspect of my petulant childhood, but parents cramping their kids' style is a universal truth. I imagine it's actually one of the fun things about being a parent. Admittedly, I'm vain enough that I still try to look cool at concerts. No one wants to be that guy wearing the headlining band's t-shirt and excitedly eyeing the crowd looking for conversation and new friends. But alas, after all these years, any cool points earned by my skinny jeans and worn, black Pavement tee would in the end, still be rendered null and void.
Yes, I went to see Neko Case with my mom. It was a belated Christmas present and bonding opportunity. And actually, the only thing I found truly disturbing was the presence of the couple hundred AARP members in the crowd. I knew Neko had some older fans, but this was ridiculous. But, aside from being one of only about 20 on hand that didn't drive a Buick to the event, everything was... nice. Different, but nice. Neko and Co. continued the evening's theme, belting out the best from Blacklisted, The Tigers Have Spoken, and Fox Confessor Brings the Flood, while mixing in a healthy amount of new songs. Neko opened up her throat right away, leading with "Widow's Toast" and the Tigers standout "Favorite." At times, her powerful set of pipes even seemed to overwhelm the sound system.
I'd seen Neko once before in a smaller venue, sans backup singer, from about 15 feet away, but her performance and laid-back stage banter created the same sense of intimacy I'd experienced before. There were, of course, the token come-ons from girls in the audience of "Neko! Have my baby!" and "Come back to my apartment!" (I swear you'll hear some form of these at all her shows). But the mood by and large was that of music being played for, and among, a group of friends -- from Ms. Case getting several bars into "Dirty Knife" before realizing: "I'm supposed to play guitar on this song!" to the constant presence of the band's dog, Auggie, curled up and sleeping on the side of the stage.
I had turned on my parents to Neko originally by giving my country-friendly mom a copy of Blacklisted. Like me, she and my father fell in love with her voice and unique style of songwriting. This made me happy for many reasons -- I'd found music that we could all enjoy while trapped in long car rides together, I could buy more Neko albums whenever I was stumped on any looming gift-giving holidays, and sappily, because it's rare when kids and parents can get excited together about cultural touchstones like music or art. Mom didn't seem particularly excited to hear any one song over another. I, however, had a list of songs I was very much hoping to hear. No dice on the short-but-sweet "Outro with Bees" or the title tracks from Case's last two studio albums, but I was kept quite content with appetizers from the soon-to-be-recorded follow-up to Fox Confessor, and some other personal favorites from her current canon such as "Star Witness," "Margaret vs. Pauline," "The Tigers Have Spoken," and "That Teenage Feeling." Okay, so I have a lot of favorites. Sue me. Neko took full advantage of her range, impressing the theater with the strength of her voice on songs like "Deep Red Bells" and "Maybe Sparrow," while revealing a more delicate side with harmonies in songs like "Star Witness."
Once into the encore, an aging hippie capitalized on said delicate side. Before the show, he'd been milling about the crowd with an oversized card for concertgoers to sign. (I hope she reads my note! I bet people don't tell her "You rock!" enough.) After the first song of bonus time, Aging Hippie presented the card to a touched Neko. "You guys, this is so sweet! Ugh, I just got my period and you're gonna make me cry!" All in attendance seemed to react with a 50/50 mix of hilarious laughter and I-can't-believe-she-just-said-that shock, myself included.
But why was I so shocked? Despite the sea of grey hair and bald spots, this was, after all, a rock concert. Thanks to The Flaming Lips, I've seen bunnies crowdsurf, for Chrissake, how could this take me by surprise? Perhaps I made the mistake of underestimating the gumption of the gal who was banned from the Grand Ole Opry for performing in her bra in 2001 (lighten up you Dixie prudes, the woman was overheating!). Before the situation devolved into a Lifetime original movie starring Valerie Bertinelli, Neko provided some self-parody, "I just need a bag of potato chips and a good cry, Albany!"
After a glimpse into Ms. Case's night at the Ha-Ha Hole, the band resumed the encore with the poignant and melancholic "Wish I Was the Moon," before sending us off on a high-note by covering Tom Petty's "Listen to Her Heart" and closing with the clap-along gospel "John Saw That Number."
Instead of my usual post-concert routine of recreating the exact setlist with friends whilst en route to alcohol, Mom and I plopped down in a fantastic burrito place nearby and tried to ignore the mouse scurrying along the dingy floor. We were both left with the same impressions: "Wow, she's got an incredible voice," and "Wow, she was a lot of fun." From a purely musical and technical perspective, the intimate show I'd been to a few years back was superior, but this current concert was far more memorable. It may have been the scores of seniors, or that I was rocking out with Mom, but a few jokes, stories, and even flubs by a performer can make for fonder recollections than perfect song after perfect song. That's why we go to shows. We have the songs on a disc at home; what we're after is an experience. For me and Mom, that's what this was. Months from now, we'll still crack jokes about "a bag of chips and a good cry" and Neko altering songs to incorporate Auggie. This show was different alright, but in this case that turned out to be a good thing.
