![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I heart the Swell Season
Dec. 4th, 2009 01:39 pmThe show last night was sooooooo freaking good!!!!!! I loved it even though my fantasy of starting a fairytale love affair with Glen Hansard didn't come to pass.
Funny thing is, my absolute favorite moment of the night was a moment that didn't involve any music. Not directly, anyway.
About three quarters of the way into their set, after playing a few songs from the Once soundtrack, a few Frames songs (I think?), and a few songs off their new record, everyone but Glen vacated the stage. He grabbed his beat-up acoustic guitar and stepped forward. The lights were already down, but a bunch of the stage lights also went dim, except for a soft spotlight that illuminated Glen as he stood before a mic.
He bantered with the audience as all good musicians do, thanking us for being there, complimenting the beauty of the auditorium theatre, and saying how great it was to be back in Chicago. Then he launched into a story about his last visit to our city. He told about coming here about a month ago in preparation for this tour, more specifically he told about an encounter he had in an elevator at the hotel where he was staying.
Apparently he was on his way down to the lobby, and the only other elevator passenger was a woman who looked to be about 75 or 80 years of age. He greeted her, noticing that she had a beautiful face, with lovely silvery hair peeking out from the edges of her hat. He also noticed that she had a beautiful coat, it reminded him of something that would be worn by Paddington Bear.
Being a friendly, open sort of fellow, he decided to pay her and her coat a compliment, telling her he thought it was just lovely.
The woman thanked him. She said she had seen it in a shop window, and something about it grabbed her. Her motivation to purchase it was, "Fuck it, I'm gonna live my life."
She went on to tell Glen that she was from New York, and that she had experienced a period where she didn't leave her house for two years after her son "went into that fucking building." His last day of work was on September 10, 2001, but he returned to his office the following day, in order to retrieve a tin of popcorn from under his desk.
The woman said she woke up the morning of September 11 with a bad feeling, and tried to reach her son to tell him he should stay home. Her attempt failed. So she confined herself to her house for two years, until something sparked a desire to rejoin civilization, and she went out and saw that coat in the window and bought it on the spot.
So now here she was, having travelled from New York to Chicago to visit her daughter, and she was living her life again and it was wonderful.
Glen helped her carry her bags to a taxi, and she asked him what he did for a living.
"I play in a band." he said.
"Which band?" she asked.
"It's called the Swell Season."
"I've never heard of it," the woman said.
"Before that I was in, and am still in a band called The Frames," he added.
"I've never heard of that either," the woman said.
"Well, I was also in a film. It came out a few years ago. It's called Once."
The woman thought about it for a minute, shook her head, and said, "No, I've never heard of it."
He gave her his e-mail address anyway, in case she wanted to contact him and keep in touch, and before they parted ways the woman said, to paraphrase, "You know, sometimes you have something you'd like to say, and if you go without saying it, you might not get a second chance. Don't let that happen. Always make sure you tell everyone around you how you feel."
This, of course, was the perfect segway into an acoustic rendering of "Say It To Me Now" which is the song I posted in my previous entry. The song that I hoped beyond hope I'd get to hear live and in person.
The song was (and is) gorgeous and poignant in and of itself, so much so that I never imagined anything could make it better. But Glen's heartfelt story kicked it even higher into the stratosphere of excellence, and words cannot describe the level of warmth and excitement I felt once I realized where the story was leading. I think my heart damn near exploded when he strummed the first few chords.
I really appreciate moments like this. Moments when an artistic performance exceeds my expectations and then some. Now I'm kind of hoping this show gets released on DVD, so that I can continue to revisit this incredible experience.
Funny thing is, my absolute favorite moment of the night was a moment that didn't involve any music. Not directly, anyway.
About three quarters of the way into their set, after playing a few songs from the Once soundtrack, a few Frames songs (I think?), and a few songs off their new record, everyone but Glen vacated the stage. He grabbed his beat-up acoustic guitar and stepped forward. The lights were already down, but a bunch of the stage lights also went dim, except for a soft spotlight that illuminated Glen as he stood before a mic.
He bantered with the audience as all good musicians do, thanking us for being there, complimenting the beauty of the auditorium theatre, and saying how great it was to be back in Chicago. Then he launched into a story about his last visit to our city. He told about coming here about a month ago in preparation for this tour, more specifically he told about an encounter he had in an elevator at the hotel where he was staying.
Apparently he was on his way down to the lobby, and the only other elevator passenger was a woman who looked to be about 75 or 80 years of age. He greeted her, noticing that she had a beautiful face, with lovely silvery hair peeking out from the edges of her hat. He also noticed that she had a beautiful coat, it reminded him of something that would be worn by Paddington Bear.
Being a friendly, open sort of fellow, he decided to pay her and her coat a compliment, telling her he thought it was just lovely.
The woman thanked him. She said she had seen it in a shop window, and something about it grabbed her. Her motivation to purchase it was, "Fuck it, I'm gonna live my life."
She went on to tell Glen that she was from New York, and that she had experienced a period where she didn't leave her house for two years after her son "went into that fucking building." His last day of work was on September 10, 2001, but he returned to his office the following day, in order to retrieve a tin of popcorn from under his desk.
The woman said she woke up the morning of September 11 with a bad feeling, and tried to reach her son to tell him he should stay home. Her attempt failed. So she confined herself to her house for two years, until something sparked a desire to rejoin civilization, and she went out and saw that coat in the window and bought it on the spot.
So now here she was, having travelled from New York to Chicago to visit her daughter, and she was living her life again and it was wonderful.
Glen helped her carry her bags to a taxi, and she asked him what he did for a living.
"I play in a band." he said.
"Which band?" she asked.
"It's called the Swell Season."
"I've never heard of it," the woman said.
"Before that I was in, and am still in a band called The Frames," he added.
"I've never heard of that either," the woman said.
"Well, I was also in a film. It came out a few years ago. It's called Once."
The woman thought about it for a minute, shook her head, and said, "No, I've never heard of it."
He gave her his e-mail address anyway, in case she wanted to contact him and keep in touch, and before they parted ways the woman said, to paraphrase, "You know, sometimes you have something you'd like to say, and if you go without saying it, you might not get a second chance. Don't let that happen. Always make sure you tell everyone around you how you feel."
This, of course, was the perfect segway into an acoustic rendering of "Say It To Me Now" which is the song I posted in my previous entry. The song that I hoped beyond hope I'd get to hear live and in person.
The song was (and is) gorgeous and poignant in and of itself, so much so that I never imagined anything could make it better. But Glen's heartfelt story kicked it even higher into the stratosphere of excellence, and words cannot describe the level of warmth and excitement I felt once I realized where the story was leading. I think my heart damn near exploded when he strummed the first few chords.
I really appreciate moments like this. Moments when an artistic performance exceeds my expectations and then some. Now I'm kind of hoping this show gets released on DVD, so that I can continue to revisit this incredible experience.
