The Week Worcester Tried to Kill Me
The next person who tells me there's nothing to do in Worcester may get punched in the throat.
Lately, I've been overwhelmed with places to be and things to write about. Today's TWSN, for example, recommends a gazillion events, including shows by Indian Idol winner Amit Paul, the John Lennon tribute at Ralph's, Sevendust, Cha-Cha Connor and Dr. Nat, Papa Roach and more. I'm more than a little saddened that it's unlikely I'll make the Lennon tribute, as I have a personal engagement. (Had a bit of fun asking local musicians about their favorite Lennon tunes, though.) Also, my "What You're Listening To" column is back, although brief for lack of space and time, with the very cool band, Southbound Outlaws, who are also playing this week. Busy? Busy. But no rest for the wicked, as Lea's performing Friday for the second Worcester Poetry and Music Showcase, along with Sound in Stone, Rodney Tucker and Aslan King, at the Qunisigamond Village Community Center, 16 Greenwood St., Worcester.
Of course, I don't think it'll be as exhausting for me personally as the previous week was. Seriously: this was the week Worcester tried to kill me. That it tried to kill me with awesomeness only makes it worse.
Last Friday, Lea and I made it out to see the Loomer play at WCUW. I've seen the Loomers many times before, of course, and lead singer Jon Svetkey was the first musician I interviewed for WoMag a million years ago when I was writing for them. Was a little sad that the room wasn't packed, but the band was the tightest I've ever seen them, and all in all, it was a great show.
Saturday found us at Clark University, listening to jazz musicians William Parker and Cooper-Moore. I'll admit, I had ended up at this one because I had an inkling that Tony Brown was going to kick off the program, debuting the mysterious long piece he had been working on. And he did, and it was fantastic, but I was totally unprepared for just how amazing these musicians would be. Watching them play was hypnotic, and the whole damn thing rattled things in my chest I didn't even know were there. Sometimes, when you encounter art that's largely alien to you, it shoves your head into a paradigm shift. I think I'm going to be haunted by that show for a long time.
Sunday, Mindy Nettifee came to town, and I think a lot of the crowd that came to see her at the fairly last-minute secret-ninja Kitchen Sessions might have gone through a couple paradigm shifts of their own. It's no secret I think Nettifee is a spectacular writer, and a magnificent performer. There was some awareness of her out here -- a few folks had seen her at Nationals before, or when she's read in Boston -- but by-and-large, I don't think most of the crowd knew what they were in for. I think there may have been a perception that she might be cut from the same mold as a lot of other touring slam poets. Certainly, her understated stagemanship, her wry wit and sparkling imagery, her crystalline vulnerability ... I think these all blindsided many in attendance. In a good way.
I was also happy to revisit the the Kitchen Sessions format, and in Megan Thoma's capable hands, the show felt like a Kitchen Sessions should feel: warm & welcomign, good-natured, vibrant and ringing with good poetry. I know there hav ebeen other Kitchen Sessions rolling around, and I've bene unable to visit them, but this, for me, was the real deal.
Mindy also had a last-minute gig for the Dirty Gerund Poetry Series at Ralph's, and -- with an almost entirely different set -- managed to again whallop the crowd. There was also a great musical feature by Cha-Cha and Nat, previewing their show tonight at Nick's. I've caught them performing before, and always enjoy it, but putting Cha and Mindy on the same stage just lent the whole evening and amazing energy. I was buzzing for hours afterward. Which was problematic, as I had to work the next morning, and had missed a lot of sleep that week. Mostly, I've been knocked out for the past couple days, recuperating from exhaustion and unable to even think about going out. But all-in-all? It was so worth it.
