1,162-1,165 BOSTON 2019, Featuring LETTERS TO CLEO, BILL JANOVITZ and the ANGIEC BIRTHDAY BASH!, Various venues in Boston, MA, USA, Friday 22nd – Sunday 24th November 2019

Gig Specifics:
1,162 LETTERS TO CLEO, Speedy Ortiz, Boston Paradise, Friday 22^nd November 2019

1,163 BILL JANOVITZ, Boston The Burren, Saturday 23^rd November 2019

1,164 LETTERS TO CLEO, Speedy Ortiz, Boston Paradise, Saturday 23^rd November 2019

1,165 THE ANGIE C BIRTHDAY BASH, Boston Q Division, Sunday 24^th November 2019

After a “slight return” to my regular early 2000’s Rock’n’Roll bolthole of Boston, MA, USA in March 2017 (gigs 1,028 and 1,029), that being the first time my footsteps had muddied the banks of the Charles for full on 9 years, I was kind of expecting not to be back anytime soon… little did I know…! One of the new friends I made on that most recent trip was local DJ (and co-host of the ACLU benefit show that comprised gig 1,028) Angie C Shaw; we became fast friends over Facebook, bonding over our love for music and Boston rock in particular, and she gave me a heads-up earlier this year about her 50th Birthday plans, ultimately inviting me over to her confirmed “Hot AC Sunday Funday Birthday Bash”. A tempter in and of itself, but when it coincided with a “homecoming” double-header from Boston post-grunge powerpop heroes Letters To Cleo, a band whom I’d adored back in the 90’s but only saw a couple of times during their sole UK sojourn in 1996 (gigs 321 and 324), it became a really enticing prospect…! A few hurdles to overcome first, but luckily Rach was happy for me to fly over (and more than a little jealous too, Rach being a massive LTC fan but never having seen them…), I got my leave from work aligned to make a long weekend of it, sorted out a cheap – economy, hand luggage only! – flight, and Angie sorted me with some accommodation with Dennis White, a chap I’d also met on that 2017 visit. So it was suddenly all systems go for David Does Boston – Take 11!

A stupidly early start on Friday – up at 5.15 am! – to drive to Heathrow, get the car parked and check in in time for my 9.40 flight, then an equally stupidly turbulence-affected flight (when the cabin crew are also strapped in and they can’t serve the food because it’s “too dangerous”, you know you’re in for a bumpy ride) still got me into Boston about lunchtime. Quickly bored after an hour or so poking around an increasingly rainy Harvard (Boston testing me at this point, given I’d brought no change of shoes or trousers!), I then popped over to Q Division to wish old friend Ed Valauskas, bassist with local heroes The Gravel Pit, a happy birthday! Enjoyed a chat mainly about our kids (!) before I headed over to Dorchester, hitting Dennis’ place just as mine host arrived home. He fixed me up in “The Elvis Room” (a veritable shrine to Elvis Costello, whom Dennis has seen 80+  times!), before we Uber-ed over to the Paradise (this is how we do, now, apparently… taxis are so 2015!) for about 8, rather inevitably running into man-about-town “The Peach” Pete Stone outside!

Took a wander in for openers Speedy Ortiz, who played a very Veruca Salt-esque mid-paced and oft-times off kilter stompy post-grunge US alt-rock fayre. Striking and vivacious vocalist Sadie Dupuis, apparently a local lass, was gushing about being back in her old stomping grounds (“it’s great to be back here – I used to come here when I was 18!”) and about supporting her idols Letters To Cleo, and I liked “Plough” (their tribute to old Boston venue The Plough And Stars) with its’ “freaking the fuck out” hook-line, as well as their obvious jumpy enthusiasm onstage, although the sound was often drum-dominated and the set seemed overlong at 45 minutes. Still, a pretty good start overall…

Hung out on the balcony, totally failing to bump into anyone I knew (later for that!), then took a spot on the floor, house left, just behind a tall bloke who was leaning against the stage. Bah! As the clock ticked on past the Cleo’s scheduled 9.15 onstage time, I noticed guitarist Greg McKenna lean out from backstage in an attempt to catch the DJ’s attention to say the band were ready to play! Eventually the message got through, and the Cleos took the stage, joined last by vocalist Kay Hanley, deadpanning, “we’re doing this again, huh?” Oh yes, indeed we are… this year with extra added Brit fan!

From the off Letters To Cleo sounded utterly amazing; despite this being only gig 4 of a 5-date mini-tour, they sounded tight, tough and road-tested, the rock totally on point, and, like so many of their late 90’s Boston contemporaries, waaaay better live than on record. Dynamic, kinetic, joyous, rocking like bastards, and in Kay Hanley possessing a frontperson par excellence; the Homecoming Queen, focus of all the attention in the room, stripily attired and tousled hair piled high like a young Kim Wilde, she was commanding, smart-mouthed and sassy, swaggering and strutting the stage as if she owned it. Which, of course, she did… Hard rocking, grungy opener “Go” segued into an almost 60’s-esque colourful and groovy “4 Leaf Clover”, and an early “I Want You To Want Me” was terrific, bettering even Cheap Trick’s original (I know, I said it…) with a thrillingly cacophonous climax. “Veda Very Shining” was utterly blistering, a hard-edged, amphetamine-fast and rocking thrill-ride, and “Awake” saw pretty much the whole band bouncing in time to hard-hitting sticksman Tom Polce’s strong-armed drumbeat. A diversion into their Christmas EP material didn’t break momentum for long, the scorching late-set double of “Demon Rock”/ “Fast Way” roaring back with a vengeance, Kay also admonishing phone photo takers (of which I, regrettably, was one…) and suggesting they/we, “be in the present!” Point taken!

The circular choral hook of “I Got Time” ended the set proper, the band returning for an encore, with guitarist USA Mike Eisenstein (with whom, similarly to Bill Janovitz at the Buffalo Tom Bristol gig last December, no. 1,115, I’d exchanged glances during the set but again wasn’t sure whether he’d recognised me) giving me a shout-out for, “coming all this way”(I guess he did, then…)! The Cleos then brought bona-fide Boston rock legend Greg Hawkes of The Cars onstage, to play some funky organ on a Cars cover encore triad, Kay clearly in Fantasy Band Camp here and totally unable to wipe the huge grin from her features throughout, remarking, “this is so awesome!”. Awesome indeed, but so was the whole set!

Hung out by the upstairs backstage door afterwards, running into EdV, USA Mike, Tom Polce, old Senor Happy buddy Joe McMahon, and visiting American Hi-Fi guitarist and old friend Jamie, a man who seems utterly impervious to the ravages of time, looking possibly younger now than when I first met him in 2000! Eventually we were ushered in backstage, much socialising ensuing with the Cleos and their entourage, including birthday girl Angie C and partner Dave. Eventually Dennis (slightly worse for wear at this point) and I reluctantly tore ourselves away, sorting an Uber back to his place after an utterly stellar evening of rock!

A fairly early start on a bright and chilly Saturday saw Dennis and I (amazingly in good shape after his heroic amounts of imbibing!) heading out for a superb breakfast in Quincy, making a couple of stops to walk his dogs on the journey. An afternoon shopping trip to Harvard was problematic, a huge chunk of the Red Line “T” replaced by an interminably slow bus service, so I got back to Dennis’ at 5ish. His mate Tom had happily sorted us guest list spots for Bill Janovitz’ set at the snug Burren backroom (standing room only, but who cares?), so we headed over there in a slow-moving Uber (taking ages to inch through Chinatown in particular) for just before 7, having just enough time for a quick greeting and handshake with Bill before he took the stage, bang on 7 for his first set of 2 of the night.

This was the relaxed, urbane Bill, playing to a small room of friends, acquaintances and other assorted diners, kicking off solo with a couple of Buffalo Tom deep cuts (“Sunday Night” in particular being welcome, and featuring the requisite amount of intensity and melancholy, albeit low-key!), then being joined by a band including brother Scott, and also Cleo’s drummer Tom, pulling a double shift tonight! “This is a Crown Victoria reunion – we broke up after a couple of years [but] no-one noticed!”, quipped Scott before an understated and delicately countrified “Fireworks On TV”, and an almost soulful, confessional “Mary Kay”. The material (described as a “Last Waltz” set by Bill) was largely Crown Victoria stuff, more understated and alt-country than the Tom whilst still retaining Bill’s usual oeuvre of raw passion and melancholy. “Helpless” was chiming and melodic, with excellent harmonies from Scott and Tom, then Bill brought the set to a close, promising “a new drummer for the next set – I can say that with certainty!”

I was off and running then… I’d arranged a lift with Tom to The Paradise, so we headed through the kitchen where Joe was waiting with the motor running! He dropped me and Tom off around the corner from the venue, where I left Tom to go in (parting with a huge bearhug from this affable gent – a real pleasure to run into him again after nearly 20 years!) as I collected my will call ticket. Speedy Ortiz were already midway through their set, which was more of the same heavy-hitting languid post-grunge, albeit sounding fuller and brighter than last night, with vocalist Sadie again throwing compliments around (to the Cleos and Boston in particular) with gay abandon.

The place felt considerably fuller tonight, so I grabbed a spot close to last night’s house left position, albeit a couple of rows further back. Tried to squeeze through but couldn’t. Bah! No matter, we didn’t hang around tonight, Angie C introducing the band onstage pretty much on time, and being surprised with a massive birthday cake and birthday singalong in the process! Following these festivities, Letters To Cleo weren’t in a mood to mess about either, bursting directly into a powerful “Demon Rock”/ “Fastway” double-whammy segue, with Kay, sporting rock-star chic tonight (black support band t-shirt and ripped – nay, savaged – jeans) again “on it” from the off, bouncing around as if on rubber knees, exhorting the hometown crowd to sing along throughout. An early “Cruel To Be Kind” was lovely, delivered with just the right amount of deliciously understated harmony, Kay and Michael thereafter conducting an onstage band pow-wow (“we want to get it right for you people!”) before an angular, rocking “I Got Time”. “Awake” again saw the band bounceathon, Michael also prowling his corner of the stage like a young Bob Mould (!), and the slower-burn “Jennifer” was introduced by Kay as, “a rock’n’roll hymn to Dorchester,” the accompanying backdrop slideshow illustrating this point. “Veda” was again a blistering amped-up powerpop delight, but that was even topped by rampant set closer “Pizza Cutter”, the undulating harmonies a feature of possibly the highlight of this homestand.

A relaxed and buoyant band then took the stage one last time, in Christmas hats and tinsel and accompanied by Speedy Ortiz, to run through their “Christmas” EP tracks, their reading of locals The Dogmatics’ “Christmas Time (Sure Don’t Feel Like It)” the flippant, acerbic best number. I didn’t hang around tonight, however, making a quick visit to the merch stand and a lap of the top balcony, running into Melissa Gibbs and Jen Trynin for a nice chat and catch up before heading off. An early departure tonight, as I was unsure as to my ability to hail a cab, Boston being all Ubers these days, and this proved to be the case, so I abandoned that idea and took the “T” for a happily swifter than earlier Green-bus-Red transfer, back to Dennis’ for midnight, totally wiped out but elated after another brilliant Cleo’s performance!

Unsurprisingly, Sunday didn’t start quite as early – particularly as it was totally bucketing it down! Dennis and I eventually headed off just before lunchtime to grab another Quincy breakfast (hey, I liked it yesterday, so stick with what you like!) then I took it easy back in the “Elvis Room” before we headed off to Q Division for 3 pm. This was to be the venue for the Angie C Birthday Bash, with socialising and buffet in a side room and an impromptu stage set up in one of the recording studios. This was clearly to be the social event of the season, as I immediately ran into so many old Boston rock friends (EdV, Jamie, old Gravy friend Michael Jordan, Ad Frank, “The Peach”, Kay, Michael, Jen, Melissa and a later arriving old Pills buddy Corin!), and met a whole swathe of hopefully new friends (hi Keith, Josh, Rice, Hilken, Kirsten… plus legendary Boston music scribe Brett Milano!). Also greeted Angie and Dave, of course, and gave Premiership footy fan Angie a present of a Liverpool FC shirt personalised with “Angie C – 50” – judging by the hug I received, I think it went down well…!

In between the chat and general party spirit and bonhomie, there was some music too! First up, the excellently named PRETENDICA, featuring Cleos guitarist Greg McKenna and a vivacious vocalist in Linda Gioscia, regaled us with some authentically-delivered Pretenders covers (including, happily, my favourite, the racey “Tattooed Love Boys”) and one Elastica number, their “Stutter” being miles better than the oft-shambolic original. Then, with a slight shuffling of personnel (notably Ad Frank in for Greg) and costume (Linda donning a blonde wig and alluring short dress/ boots combination), they became HEY! BLONDIE!, again delivering a fun party set of Blondie covers, my highlights being “X Offender” (which apparently features in the set because Ad wouldn’t join the band unless they played it!) and “Dreaming”, the drum-dominated 60’s-esque pop classic, drummer Mike Gioscia putting in a hell of a shift to channel Clem Burke!

I grabbed another quick chat with Jen Trynin, hanging out with Hilken Mancini, and got the chance to more rationally convey my admiration for both her recorded output and rather excellent book. However, before I get the chance to tell Hilken what a fan of Fuzzy I was in the day, they were called to the stage, as BAND OF THEIR OWN were next up. Angie introduced them onstage after a lovely short speech, then BOTO played a relaxed, fun and sparkling set of well-chosen covers. BOTO are a loose collective of distaff luminaries of the Boston Rock community (and herein ends any references to gender, as I appreciate that anything I, as a white male non-musician, have to say on this point may come across as dangerously patronising), who are quite simply supremely talented musicians and performers. Case in point being that the shining star of the last 2 evenings, Kay (who, in taking lead vocals for a couple of numbers, is admittedly reining it in this afternoon), didn’t even come close to being MVP of this performance. Nope, for me that honour went to Hilken, although Jen ran her close with an astonishingly impassioned reading of Tom Petty’s “Refugee” (typical that the first time I get to see Jen perform, she’s doing a cover… still, it’s, ahem, better than nothing…!). Anyway, it’s Hilken; high kicking, husky voiced, posing and strutting onstage, owning it and delivering a stunning version of “Different Drum”, the highlight of BOTO’s set. Although kudos also to Melissa, who delivered a Stevie Nicks cover with all the commanding growl of a Patti Smith…!

Then, a total surprise; the birthday girl’s beau, DAVE DOW, hopped onstage, accompanied by Josh on guitar, with the intention of singing a couple of numbers for the birthday girl. He eased into first number, Men A Work’s “Overkill” and those present let out an audible gasp – Dave, who’d apparently never sung before, was utterly crushing it! Spot on pitch and delivery throughout; about 3 seconds after he went up through the octaves for the final verse, I was looking around for my jaw. On the floor…! This was not only the highlight of his four song vignette, but one of the musical highlights of the weekend, no foolin’, and judging by the conversation I overheard between Dave and BOTO and Belly stalwart Gail Greenwood, I wasn’t the only one to think that…!

Next up, I had a promise to keep, and Kay helped me to keep it, signing my daughter’s copy of the “Josie And The Pussycats” soundtrack and sending her a lovely video message, which just about made Kasey’s day/week/month/year. There was time for one final act, BIKINI WHALE, a B52’s tribute led by my old Gravy buddy Michael, playing “under the watchful gaze of Emperor Caldes,” (a huge painting of Gravel Pit drummer Pete, propped up at the back of the stage and keeping watch all evening!) and channelling the kooky goofiness and deadpan delivery of Bill Schneider perfectly. Once again, they were great, faithful to the originals and a perfect party band to round things off. However, the weekend began to catch up with me, and when Dennis suggested bailing just before the end, I happily joined him, saying my goodbyes on the way out.

An early night for an early start, as Dennis (who’d been the perfect host) drove me to the airport for my 8 a.m. flight, a less bumpy ride seeing me back in Heathrow earlier than expected (despite 20 minutes of circling because we were so early!), and home just before 10 p.m. Elated and buoyed once again by another stellar weekend in Boston; whenever I fleetingly thought I was out of place, an interloper, there was always one old friend or other there to greet me. Once again, the Boston rock community showed nothing but the most amazing hospitality to this Brit Boston Rock fan, and for that I’m forever grateful.

As for my “Live Band of the Year”? Well, after that incredible homestand, it’s got to be LETTERS TO CLEO! Oh and yeah… Happy Birthday Angie!

1,028 BOSTON STANDS WITH THE ACLU, featuring NADA SURF, JULIANA HATFIELD, BELLY, EVAN DANDO, THE SHEILA DIVINE, THE GRAVEL PIT, BILL JANOVITZ, The Paradise Rock Club, Boston MA, USA, Saturday 18th March 2017; 1029 THE GRAVEL PIT, Kevin Stephenson, Atwood’s Tavern, Cambridge MA, USA, Sunday 19th March 2017

Yup, that’s Boston…!

Damn, it’s been a long time since I’ve ventured over to “The Hub”, almost a second home to myself and Rachel in the early 2000’s, with 9 trips over 9 years, before a 9 year absence… Even with the kids a little older now, and with time and a little bit of redundancy money on my hands, it would still have taken Something Very Special Indeed to justify such a jaunt. And such proved to be the case, in part “thanks” to Donald Trump…

I don’t profess to be an expert in politics, yet alone the convoluted machinations of the US political machine, yet I hope I’m a decent enough human being to recognise when fundamental human rights are being breached. Number 45 has taken office and launched swathes of attacks on the civil liberties of minority groups, in the process putting a national focus on the work of the American Civil Liberties Union, a non-profit body set up with the express purpose of defending those rights. Many right-minded people seem to be looking to the ACLU as a rallying banner to oppose Trump’s policies and defend their rights, and it was within this climate that folks within the Boston music scene, most notably my good friends in The Gravel Pit, initiated the concept of “Boston Stands With The ACLU”, an intended series of events to raise money for this eminently worthwhile and currently much-needed cause. And, not wishing to ease themselves in, the line-up for their first event was an utter corker, a jaw-droppingly awesome collection of Boston Rock Royalty from the 90’s and early 00’s, topped with NYC’s Nada Surf, not only a band with a huge affinity for “The Hub” but, along with The Hold Steady, my consistently favourite music makers of the past 10 years or so. Not a surprise then, that this event sold out within 2 days, but luckily enough, following “permission to fly” being given by my dear wife, a quick message to TGP’s bassist and old friend Ed Valauskas resulted in my securing a ticket on the door. A similar facebook shout out to my Boston friends resulted in my good friend Corin Ashley (formerly of The Pills, the band who provided the soundtrack to my proposal to Rachel, back in gig 634) offering his studio futon for my short stay, and it was all systems go!

A visit from Winter Storm Stella earlier in the week, dumping a foot of snow on the Greater Boston area, briefly threatened to throw my visit into chaos, but the USA know how to handle such things, rather than in the UK, where a single snowflake shuts schools and cancels train journeys. So I had a bumpy flight in on a chilly Thursday evening, arriving to piles of snow on the sidewalks, but a very navigable city, so easily made it over to Corin’s place. Friday was shopping at Harvard and Davis, a quick trip to Q Division for catch-ups with Jon Lupfer and EdV, and the Boston Red Sox Fenway Tour! Saturday saw more shopping and lunch with Boston-domiciled old school friend Richard Wood, before I headed over to the Paradise, killing time in nearby “In Your Ear” before a quick chat with Nada Surf’s Ira Elliott outside the venue.

Michael Creamer turned up at 5 and ushered me in for the soundcheck, and I took a watching brief and tried to stay out of the way whilst saying “hey” to various folks as they arrived. EdV had suggested that soundchecks might be done by 5, but they were still in full swing, and I watched Belly, The Gravel Pit, Juliana Hatfield (along with Matt Caws of Nada Surf, on a Minor Alps song - Juliana and Matt’s excellent 2013 collaboration – which sounded verrry promising…) and Bill Janovitz all soundcheck. Wandered out to the Paradise Lounge as door-time approached, being greeted with a fulsome bearhug by an arriving Pete “The Peach” Stone and being introduced to his lovely fiancée Meghan. We wandered around trying to sort out wristband passes, eventually hanging in the upstairs “backstage” area with tonight’s performers as the venue filled up (luckily the lady manning the backstage entrance took my “VIP list” status at face value, and let me come and go throughout the night with impunity) and ultimately running into Creamer again, who advised he’d sort me one later – “got to see to the artists first”. Fair enough, totally understandable, I felt, whilst hoping this wouldn’t come back to bite me on the bum – which it subsequently almost did…

Met up with Corin before the witching hour became due, and I took to the already well-attended floor for Buffalo Tom frontman BILL JANOVITZ, kicking off with a solo acoustic set at 7.30. Sounds like a nice, understated way to ease into the evening, right? Hell’s teeth, no! Bill was absolutely on fire from note one, sparing us none of his passion, ire and bleeding raw intensity with a frankly awesome reading of the Tom’s finest moment “Larry”, followed in quick succession with “I’m Allowed”, both so strident and stunning that even Peach (who got, “to see Bill play guitar every week for the last 20 years…!”) was impressed. Bill commented, “[tonight] is like a post-college reunion for me!” and gave props to the ACLU and their work, before “Summer” featured a modified “where’ve my heroes gone today...” lyric reference to Chuck Berry, news of whose death earlier that day at 90 had been filtering through backstage. Typically, Bill turned this into a celebration of one of his personal icons and one of rock’s root metaphors, with an upbeat, inclusive and audience singalong run-through of “30 Days” which earned the comment, “that was wicked good, Boston!” and would have had the great man smiling down from up high.

A stellar “Taillights Fade” brought us back to the Tom’s usual brooding oeuvre, before the final number, a cover of New Order’s classic “Age Of Consent” was slowed to a hushed yet no less potent ballad, ending a stunning opening set. Wow Bill, you totally killed it… and this was only for starters!

I then took a loo trip in the downstairs gents (which I didn’t realise was shared between the club and the front lounge), then had my bum-bite, as the steward stationed by the bar wouldn’t let me back into the club as I didn’t have a pass – despite the fact he’d seen me walk past him to go to the loo in the first place! This just before THE GRAVEL PIT were due on, too… he was having none of my stammered and increasingly angry arguments, yet fortuitously Creamer popped up as if by divine providence, with a, “he’s alright” comment and a precious blue wristband. Thus freed of the nimby steward, I was able to squirm down the front for the Pit’s arrival, being introduced onstage by co-host Angie C Shaw. My first time seeing The Pit since 2003, when for me they were the most overtly dynamic, visceral and immersive “live” rock’n’roll act on Planet Earth (a position likely currently occupied by the mighty Titus Andronicus), and also likely the first time they’d played together for a number of years themselves, it was inevitable that their raw power and seething fire would be diminished with the passing years. Nonetheless, this merely gave their virtuoso musicianship, band chemistry and Jed’s songwriting prowess space to shine instead; opener “Where The Flying Things Go” and the bouncy, modish “Baby Gap” sounded excellent, crystal clear, before ceding to newie and more showtune-esque “Mr. Baby”, before “Why”, darker and more brooding.

A plug for tomorrow’s Pit matinee show at Atwood’s Tavern followed (“that show’s a benefit for The Gravel Pit!” announced a playful Jed) before a couple of other newies followed, the galloping “Wreck Of The Triple One” a highlight. A timecheck for the already late-running schedule (Jed, “what’s the time?”; EdV, “don’t care!”) preceded a jaunty “Bucket” with EdV’s bass solo and Jed’s cod-reggae guitar licks a duelling feature, then closer and set highlight “Something’s Growing Inside”, grungy and growling, left us with a taste of the “old” Pit, a vignette to finish a superbly judged, low-key yet wonderfully sounding set.

I popped up backstage to offer congrats to the Pit boys just as Evan Dando arrived, so took a quick opportunity for a pic but didn’t hold him up as he was due onstage next. Just as I’d thanked him and was making my way out, however, I heard the slash of a familiar “live” guitar riff and an unmistakable strident voice from downstairs… fuck me, that’s Aaron Perrino’s voice!! And sure enough; Angie C Shaw had announced to the crowd, “it wouldn’t be a 90’s celebration without THE SHEILA DIVINE!” and there they were… well, two thirds, anyway… turned out that Creamer had gotten wind that Evan might be a late arrival or even a no-show, and primed Aaron and TSD bassist Jim Gilbert that they might be needed as short notice stand-ins, then apparently told Gravel Pit drummer Pete Caldes (who’d drummed one tour for the Sheilas back in 2000, between drummers Shawn Sears and Ryan Dolan) to stay put after the Pit set! A powerful, screamingly emotive run-through TSD classics “Like A Criminal” and “Hum” in front of a frantic and incredulous audience ensued, Jim as usual owning it, looking 10 feet tall on the Paradise stage, and Aaron cheekily slipping in a “Rudderless” lyrical reference (Angie told me at Atwoods that Evan, preparing backstage, had noticed this, prompting him to get a hurry-on!). Following “Hum”, Aaron announced, “here’s Evan!” and EVAN DANDO took the stage, bearded and dishevelled and with Bill Janovitz’ guitar on hasty loan, opening with a sweet “Being Around”. As this finished, I briefly popped backstage to greet Jim and Aaron, chatting for a couple of minutes only, before decamping to catch the rest of Evan’s set… which comprised a further 1 ½ numbers; a half of “Down About It” which was then abandoned in favour of a cover of country act Florida Georgia Line’s “Round Here,” which he’d introduced as, “a JA Happ number” – hang about, isn’t he a pitcher for the Toronto Blue Jays? Anyway, that was that… very short and a little frustrating, but hey, it’s Evan… what else do we expect?!

The place was proper old school rammed by this point, and I was also re-acquainted with the Boston gig-goer habit of simply not moving an inch when someone wants to squeeze through (usually offering a pithy or irate comment in the process), so I abandoned my attempts of getting towards the stage and instead pitched up in the VIP viewing area on the balcony next to the mixing desk (where I overheard a passing Creamer comment, “so Evan did 4 numbers and now we’re back on schedule!”). This actually afforded me an excellent view of BELLY’s superb and clearly recent road-tested set; from the off their patented dreampop/ college rock collision sounded tough, tight and together, their reunion tour clearly re-igniting the spark of band chemistry between Tanya, Gail and the Gorman brothers. A plangent “Gepetto”, a frantic “Dusted” and a creepy “Super-Connected” (preceded by Gail initiating an, “A-C-L-U!” chant and announcing, “[The ACLU is] the only thing that’s standing between this administration and the end of civilisation as we know it!”) rocketed by, Gail all leant-back Ramones rock poses, Tanya stomping the stage in her stilettoed boots, totally owning it. It wouldn’t be Belly of late without some technical issues, though, and sure enough, Gail’s onstage monitor threatened to give up the ghost before “Feed The Tree”, the roadie’s remedial work perhaps affecting the sound slightly during this and the subsequent “Now They’ll Sleep”, the latter particularly sounding ragged. Nonetheless, Belly powered through, and a feisty, frantic and effervescent “Slow Dog”, my set highlight, preceded the band introducing Tanya’s husband Dean Fisher onstage, to provide subtle bongo accompaniment for an excellent newie “Shiny One”, a woozy sway-along with an anthemic chorus. Nice! Techy hiccups notwithstanding, Belly smashed it tonight!

A bit more backstage hanging out, joining Corin who was happily handing out cards advertising his “protest song!” (a ditty called “Vulgar Stain” which still retains his trademark Beatle-esque love of melody), meeting facebook friend and fellow Sky Heroes aficionado Steve Latham, and grabbing selfies with the artistes (who all seemed to take my pestering in good humour, thankfully…) before hitting the VIP balcony again for JULIANA HATFIELD. The sole performer tonight whom I didn’t grab for a selfie and the one whom I’d lost touch with about 5 or 6 albums ago, I confess I wasn’t anticipating her set with as much relish as the rest of this stacked bill. However, backed up with the Pit’s rhythm section of EdV and Pete Caldes, you’re not going to go too far wrong, and I’m pleased to report she put me in my place with a damn fine performance of material which was largely unfamiliar to me, but which still retained an easy, laconic and melodic college pop sensibility. EdV had been bigging up her forthcoming album “Pussycat”, and newies “Wonder Why”, a slow burner with a big soaring chorus, and “Touch You Again”, a balls-out rocker, were standout tracks, boding well for the new release, and were, along with the older chugger “Candy Wrapper”, delivered with urgency and potency. We then had the promised Minor Alps interlude; Juliana introduced Matt Caws onstage, and the subsequent “I Don’t Know What To Do With My Hands” was superb, brilliantly smooth yet eerie, followed by a more relaxed cover of the old standard “Bad Moon Rising”. A few more of Juliana’s own numbers convinced me at least to hunt down the new CD, as overall this set was a pleasant surprise.

A lawyer from the ACLU then took the stage and gave a fire-breathing rallying cry for her organisation, shouting out the benefits they’ve provided and emphasising the work left to do, whilst also announcing tonight had raised $22K! Yikes! A fantastic effort (which would ultimately rise to close to $25K), which I was proud of my ticket/ merch contribution of $100 or so… This bumped us up to 11 and the floor thinned out slightly, so I risked the dancefloor, squirming forward for a vantage point stage left for NADA SURF. A racy “Cold To See Clear” opened, gorgeous and bouncy as a whole field of Spring lambs, then the plaintive yet pointed “Whose Authority” followed, Matt Caws’ yearning vocals already a feature. By the growling, galloping “High Speed Soul”, I’d pitched up at the front, in perfect view of the kinetic Daniel Lorca’s splendid menacing bass work and low-slung rock star poses, rocking out for all I was worth.

Matt Caws is one of those rare performers with the talent of making you feel as if you’re the only person in the room, that he’s addressing you directly, making the surrounding large hall melt away and giving the performance a personal, almost intimate feel. Tonight he let the music and lyrics primarily do the talking, so this gift was most effective on the likes of the touching, lovelorn “Rushing” and the penultimate “Always Love”. In between, a double of the incendiary, almost punk rock “Way You Wear Your Head” and the slow build to massive crashing crescendo of a stunning “See These Bones” ensured I’d be waking up tomorrow with sore knees. Then, all too soon, set finale “Blankest Year” saw a shout out from Matt to organiser EdV, and the modified hook of, “fuck it, we’re going to have a benefit!” featured 2 false finishes before the final denouement, each more raggedly cacophonous than the last, stretched and elongated, as if they never wanted this party to end. Further proof of that, if needed, was the encore; I’d caught a glimpse of Da Surf rehearsing “I Fought The Law” backstage, and the work proved fruitful, Tanya Donelly and Jed Parish joining the boys on backing vocals for a rambunctious rendition of which The Clash would have been proud. An utterly appropriate and all-inclusive way to end a quite epic night!

Headed off with Corin for my last night in Boston; then the following morning saw a splendid late breakfast in a Greek restaurant, my treat as a “thank you” to my gracious hosts, and a trip to Staples for a packing tube for my signed ACLU Benefit poster, before I bade farewell and headed over to Atwood’s Tavern, scene of the last act of my Boston weekend!

Hit the quiet early doors venue at 2.15, a small long bar with a stage set up at the far end, so I took a table nearest to the stage to the left, watching the place fill up and spotting and greeting familiar faces Jim Haggarty of The Gravy, and Matt Burwell, who’d been the Pills drummer during their UK jaunt (gig 634, again!). I also introduced myself to The Rationales’ mainman David Mirabella, a facebook friend since my pledging on their very fine “The Distance In Between” CD a few years back. The Pit turned up, as did last night’s co-host Angie C Shaw, who joined me at my front table, with her partner Dave and friends Dennis and Michelle, for some buoyant and entertaining rock chat. Kevin Stephenson played a short set to the assemblage at 4pm, a couple of blues standards interspersed with his own, vintage rock’n’roll influenced compositions, which dovetailed well together and provided good background music to the rock chat.

The Pit took the cramped stage at 4.30, Jed welcoming with a, “good afternoon!” and easing into “Bolt Of Light”, Pete Caldes’ rocksteady drums and Jed’s intricate farfisa organ tampering a feature. By a groovy “Favorite”, they were in their stride, yet, as last night, this was not the growling rock behemoth Pit of old, probably a good thing too given the size of the venue and the proliferation of children of all ages at this matinee performance. An easy, relaxed performance, picking and choosing as the mood took it, rendering the set-list pretty much useless, chatting and interacting with the crowd of mainly friends and family.

A galloping “Triple One” saw Jed move off the keys; “I get to play the guitar [this time], it’s an exciting instrument especially when electrified!”, and, following some teasing from Jed (“Ezra Messenger”! Remember that one? Well, keep remembering it…”), an unexpected “Rise Of Abimelech DuMont” (“part 4 of the fear trilogy!” quipped Jed) was as overtly “rock” as it got this afternoon, Jed nonetheless still reining in the big smoky voice during the strident denouement. “Mosquito” featured a lengthy stripped back middle 8, “Favorite Scar” was muted and slower than usual but still fun and “Tangled” was surprisingly rocking; then Ted Taylor’s 60’s standard “Love Is Like A Rambling Rose” ended this entertaining, relaxed and, dare I even say it, “mature” 1 ½ hour performance. A celebration of The Gravel Pit!

(The list ended up as: Bolt Of Light, Mr. Baby, Favorite, Bucket, Triple One, Stingray, Crybaby Vampire, Flying Things, Baby Gap, Don’t Do What You’re Dying To Do, I See Red, Abimelech DuMont, Mosquito, Favorite Scar, Why, Tangled, Something’s Growing Inside, Rambling Rose)

Fond farewells all round, then David Mirabella very kindly dropped me off at the airport, enjoying a chat about his band, Nada Surf and REM in the process; then an on-time and much smoother red-eye flight home got me back to Blighty at 7 a.m. UK time. National Express wouldn’t let me board an earlier coach home without a transfer charge, though, so waited for my scheduled 9.50 bus, home at 11.15 to be greeted by my lovely wife at the bus station. Thus ended my return to Boston; that was indeed Something Very Special!

542 BILL JANOVITZ, Stephen Hero, London Camden Dingwalls, Monday 28 January 2002

Rachel and I were part 1 of a 2 car posse up to London for this one, setting off later at 6.15, but still parking up in Camden at 8.30 and into the venue straight afterwards. And we popped straight to the backstage door where I used the name of our mutual friend, The Gravel Pit's Ed Valauskas, to get Bill out to say "hi" to us. Surprisingly, he remembered me from our Q Division meeting in Boston, back in August 1999, and was happy to chat!

Took a viewing point from the ramp by the side of the stage for Stephen Hero, aka former Kitchens Of Distinction frontman Patrick Fitzgerald. His new numbers, stripped back to either voice/ acoustic guitar only, or voice/ keyboards only, retained the shimmering emotion of KOD's work, and Patrick still has the melancholic longing in his voice. Good thing too - we can't afford to lose such emotive vocalists!

Our Car 2 members turned up halfway through the set, having lost their way, and this gave me an opportunity to introduce a passing Bill Janovitz to a surprised - but quickly composed - Tim! Bill himself came onstage at 9.15, one man and his guitar only, and straight into "Mineral" from 1992's "Let Me Come Over" album. A chilling rendition ended on a slightly incongruous note, as the "you're so green" hookline melded into "it's not easy being green", the Kermit The Frog song! Nevertheless, Bill made it work! After a second, new, number, Bill announced that "one new one following one old one" was the agenda for the night, which suited us fine! Predictably, the Buffalo Tom numbers received the most welcome receptions, particularly an unannounced "I'm Allowed", and the mesmeric set closer "Larry", which stripped back to just Bill's rough, dynamic voice and battered acoustic, set the hairs on my neck on end. However, the new numbers were excellent, emotive and slightly folky, which bodes well for the solo record!

An excellent set, punctuated by Bill's friendly, down to earth banter, was topped by a stunning "Taillights Fade" and a raucous newie "Long Island", which got everybody singing the hook, like an old sea shanty. A messy, slightly off-key "Wiser" - "one song too long," according to Bill - was an inappropriate end to an otherwise consummate and superb set. And after a long wait (during which Bill ran out of CD's for sale - bah!), he signed my set list! Cool - certainly worth the coughing fit I endured on leaving the venue!

570 BILL JANOVITZ, Plus Support, London WC2 Borderline, Monday 15 July 2002

And on with the frantic gig pace; this one happening the night before a 6 am start the following day. No rest for the Gig Gods! We drove up quickly, parking in Shepherd's Bush and hitting the venue just before 8, avoiding all the Slayer fans, whose heroes are playing the Astoria tonight! Stood at the bar of this intimate downstairs venue as it filled up, confirming that the Clairvoyants who are playing next week are the Boston band of that name. Can we get there for that one? We'll certainly try!

Bill Janovitz wandered through the venue, recognised me, said hello and shook my hand which was cool. We chatted briefly and also run into our new London friends Lisa and David, who we met at the Sheila Divine show and who happen also to be friends of Bill. We caught up while the support, a female folkie whose name eluded me, peddled her acoustic stuff in the background.

Bill came on at 9, one man and a fat acoustic guitar, upon which he proceeded to strumm the distinctive opening riff to Buffalo Tom's "Summer". The set was once again a mix of Buffalo Tom classics, particularly from their agenda-setting 1992 "Let Me Come Over" album, which defined them as post-grunge US rock auteurs par excellence, and stuff from his introspective, bruised yet highly listenable new "Up Here" collection, all delivered with perfect resonance from both guitar and Bills raw, open and worldly-wise voice. We also got some chat from this confident and laid-back performer, which only hit trouble when the guitar pick-up misfired and he needed to borrow his support's instrument. "Larry", the brilliant, absorbing and emotive number that has latterly become my favourite Buffalo Tom track, finished the set perfectly, and Bill encored with the tricky "Wiser", which he nailed perfectly this time, having struggled with the octave shifts of this plaintive track at his recent Dingwalls gig. All in all, another consummate performance, well worth the lost sleep!