SAW me a River: Post Apocalyptic Concert a Huge Success

First, Harold Camping is an idiot.  Sorry, I was holding that in and I had to let it out.

Second, God loves idiots and children (and dogs)... so hopefully Camping didn't sell all of his earthly goods this weekend and will eventually be ok.  And perhaps we all can take a lesson in humility regarding what we think we know and move on.

So the Rapture didn't happen.  No need for any more than that at 11.

In the world of actual events and real people... SAW (saw.org), the Songwriter's Association of Washington had their kickoff event at our venue at the New Life McLean Campus last evening.

It was a great evening, and I wanted to share a couple of thoughts while things were still fresh on my mind.

First, the open mic was surprisingly good.  We wandered from songs about Braddock road, to resurrections, to southbound trains, to Jabberwocky, an ode to Dylan and the Mayan god of sin... a buffet of creativity to say the least.

Without exception, the artists were able to convey a sense of emotion and shared experience with the room.  That is a huge win for a songwriter, so from my view, raise a glass to the folks who sang and played in the open mic - nicely done all of you!

As a performer, I'm always a bit more nervous with musicians in the room.  They know things.  And it can be a little daunting, because they tend to see and hear the dumb mistake you made in the second chorus much better than normal people do.  Plus, sharing a song you've written is what one friend would call a "pants down" exercise.   To some extent it is a horrible intimate sharing of your soul... and what if your soul sucks?  

It takes a fair amount of courage to step up and share the creation only heard by your pets before now... but the SAW crowd has the right heart of unequivocal support and encouragement... being extremely appreciative of things done well without being critical at all.  

That was refreshing and frankly, a good thing in the earth.  Keep that up.

Second, I can't remember the last time I laughed as much as I did last night.  What a sense of community and fun and good music and friends, new and old.  This is EXACTLY what music is supposed to be.  A vehicle for bringing us together, a space where we can see a truth expressed in a new and unique way... a poignant moment where the vulnerability of a past wounding can be shared, and hopefully, made a little better.

The "Bowling" and "Ed McMahon" poems literally reduced me to tears and a fit of laughter I haven't experienced since Junior High.  Genius.  Hysterically odd and wonderful.  It was something like e.e. cummings giving Beatnik poetry a delightful singsong noogie leading up to a nervous breakdown that doesn't quite happen yet.  Well, maybe not exactly like that, but you get the idea.

Our main performers were Jean Bayou and Cindi Slaughter and instead of running sets independantly, they bounced songs back and forth, riffing along the way.  That was a good choice and the percussive and extremely tasty, bluesy style of Cindi's guitar playing was a wonderful point / counterpoint to the rolling harmonic tapestry that Jean brought to the fore.  Ron Goad added percussion and emcee goodness, with the heartbeat and accents and humor that brought everything together.

Cindi has groove down to her metatarsals (that's feet bones for those of us who went to public school). 

Let me tell you, she's got the chops... and the head bobbing, sliding lead rhythm up to the 12th fret to ring the harmonic style connected up to the ankle bones and shin bones of the room.   Everything she did was extremely nice.  She just smacked us awake with her very first song and pretty much owned us from then on out.  You want to go somewhere?  Cool, we'll go with you, just lead on!  

And trivia about Pink Floyd results in a door prize of (wait for it...) grits.  

Dark Side of the Moon Grits.  That just never would have occured to me without Cindi's help.

Your love... is better than cheese whiz... fantastic.  


Somewhere Sarah McLachlan started twitching uncontrollably and she didn't know why.  And on the deeper note, the song fitting into the family theme, sung from the heart of a child to her father long gone, was a courageous and vulnerable moment that muted all of us in an sense of loss and real longing.  Great connections, and a great performance.  Nicely done CS.

Jean grooved as well, but I'm trying to think of a good way to describe it.  It was more of a sublime and wandering groove of grace from the smart sister we should have had growing up.  Wisdom meets an old friend and shares an inside joke on the way to clever lyrics, surrounded by an open chord harmonic structure that reminds us songwriting is in fact a craft that we can be good at.

She brought several musicians up to share the stage and her collaborative style and sharing of the spotlight really increased the sense of community we experienced.  Well played, in every sense of the word.

Plus, seeing a bunch of older guys clap in delight at the thought of a song about a mammogram was both surreal and oddly appropriate for the evening.  It was funny even before it was funny, if you catch my drift.

So to review, the world didn't end.  Famine was staved off by cheesecake and coffee and the other horsemen, if they stopped in at all, grabbed a chair and joined in the applause of a great evening filled with friends, music and laughter.

Thanks SAW, and thanks God for letting the world spin a little bit longer.  It was an enjoyable and memorable evening and (hopefully) the first of many to come!