The Swell Season

there are bands that i'd like to see, indie and popular alike, but when i think to actively look for their tour dates, i find they've just passed through town. i stumbled upon an article for Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová coming to seattle by happenstance last week at work, and then debated over the weekend whether i wanted to go or not. i realized monday, when i finally decided to go, that i hadn't read the article closely enough; the concert was on wednesday, and not tuesday, and it was at the moore, and not the showbox sodo, and.... it was sold out. so to craigslist, from whence i made andrew drive out to u. village to snatch up four tickets, and then to craigslist again to successfully sell the second pair since we couldn't find anyone to go with so last minute.

[side note: if you haven't watched the movie once, it's fantastic. irish guitar-playing man meets young, classically trained pianist with a czech accent, and they make music. in real life they don't seem all that different from the characters they played in the movie]

andrew asked if i knew where it was, and then i realized, through some vague recollection, that the moore was three doors down from a shop that i sell st*tchpixie goods in: fancy + pants (there's a collection of shops along that building which include Schmancy as well as Nancy)


he played the same skeleton of a guitar that he played in the movie, and despite (or perhaps because of) the holes, it had such a full sound that almost made me think it was a 12-string. his voice can be sweet and contemplative, but there are times that it has this incredible affect to it, so powerfully visceral and i love it - i imagine he would push his voice like this a lot more when he headlined for The Frames. she, with her gentle personality and all bohemian in her long skirt, shared one mic with him as he played an electric guitar for one song in something that gestured at an image of johnny cash and june carter 50 years earlier. at the end, their opening act came out to sing a bob dylan song with them, and i was amazed at how much like bob dylan the singer sounded. with those words that are sung....almost while inhaling sharply so they don't quite trail off, but are cut short...i don't know quite how to describe it. andrew and i had seen bob dylan in concert last year, and in addition to the fantasticness of his policeman pants with the yellow stripe down the side, he did his bob dylan dance-y thing. the opening act-guy may have pulled off the song better than bob dylan ever could have, but he definitely didn't have his moves.
images courtesy of z e r o s t u d i o, duckfluff, and rachel brooke at flickr