2005-08-03 - 2:45 p.m.
OK, I've been in Chicago today as a last urban pitstop before entering the dark woods of MI. And I've been here all of a few hours and I've already stumbled upon a local band who are very cool: Palliard play a deceptively simple kind of cocktail folk with acoustic instruments, laid-back rhythms, and you're thinking, "This is pleasant, I could sip a chilled beverage to this and still hear myself think," and then WHAM they hit you with a fantastically rocking, powerful, dark and yet still not-quite-rock song called "Warm Canal." Fans of the Shins and Decembrists who wish those bands were maybe a little less twee would not be disappointed by this band.
I love travel, it almost matters not where I'm going, I just enjoy the temporary rootlessness, the trust required in all the little tributaries of public and private transportation to get you where you need to go. Someone has gone before you to make sure there is a way.
I have good will to spare when I'm afoot, I even love the part where you have to take your shoes off to show airport security: "Look! I am a good guy! I have no weapons!" It's so Biblical, the doffing of shoes to prove your purity.
"Nothing in my pockets either!"
It occurs to me that CBGB has almost no sentimental value to me at all, except abstractly as an early site for the development of some of my favorite bands. Since I've been old enough to get in, the place has sucked. I'm not sure what the fuss to preserve it is all about. Buildings and clubs come and go. Do we have to stay attached to every little thing? Someone wanna fight me on this?
thoughts? (20 comments so far)
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