Well, shit.
There is a certain way those two words are said together in my head in an Arkansas accent that conveys a certain feeling. It might be my grandmother's voice I hear it in, or perhaps it's my fathers, or maybe it's my own.
Well, shit...
I have been eating cookies for breakfast while avoiding the news or reading any articles. I have been checking on friends and family and gratefully focused on union work. I have been going for walks, bereft and questioning but not surprised.
But, let's go back in time to before the shit hit the fan - I was jet lagged and hopeful and I had one more adventure in the cards before I could rest. On Monday, I caught the train through to Glasgow to see Interpol for the 8th time.
Paul Banks of Interpol |
Daniel Kessler of Interpol |
I was really worn out from travelling and a recent migraine but I knew Interpol would give me more energy than getting myself over to see them would ever take. I was right. The train was smooth and easy, the venue was close to the station, and I left early enough to stop by a cafe for a light dinner before chatting to the folks working the door at the venue. I was one of ten or so early birds or super fans. They let us in the venue at 6 to wait for the stage doors to open at 7. Water was purchased, toilets were used, and all the women at the front of the line chatted with each other and laughed. We were instant friends with one shared objective, to be right in front of Paul and Daniel of Interpol. We were from countries all around the world and we spanned generations. Some of these women had just seen each other at the previous gigs in Wolverhampton and Manchester. The woman from Leeds next to me had seen them 31 times. The artist I met waiting at the door made sure I had a great spot next to her at the barricade and we traded Instagram handles and talked about witches and art. We were an instant sisterhood - with our shared and knowing smiles, talks of ageing, the joys of gigging alone, art, small towns, cats, travel, politics, and of course Interpol.
I was uplifted by these kindred spirits before the band even took the stage.
The opening band Dust from Australia played a fine noisy set and seemed extremely appreciative of the Glasgow audience which made me wonder how they had been received by Wolverhampton and Manchester.
Interpol took the stage at 9:15 playing their second album Antics in its entirety, and then a set of 9 songs spanning their catalog, capping off the night with a perfect one song encore by playing PDA from Turn on the Bright Lights. The light show was intense and atmospheric and both Paul and Daniel were in fine form and seemed delighted to be there. Sadly Sam was missing as he continues to recover from spinal surgery and health issues. It was another great Interpol gig.
I hugged my new barricade mate goodbye and was out the door to catch the 11:15 train back to Edinburgh. Once returned to the city and on the bus in the wilds of Leith, another Interpol fan recognised me as they were exiting the bus, "Weren't you just at Interpol and in the front?" Aye, I was. Smiles were shared, take cares uttered and again I was embraced into the fold of humanity. The night ended as it began.
I was energised and happy to be alive.
As I mentioned the last time I wrote about Interpol here, all you have to do is use the search feature in the top left of this blog to see how I feel about the band and what they mean to me, my life, and work. That's the power of art and music - it is truly life giving and inspiring, momentum building and community forging, identity shaping, alchemic bliss.
The edge of a guitar note as it rings out, the turn of phrase, the gasp and crack of the voice, the bass as it moves through you and drums as they ground and transcend. There is nothing much better than that. And every time I see Interpol their music returns to me shiny and new to be discovered all over again as if for the first time.
Tears drown in the wake of delight
There's nothing like this built today
You'll never see a finer ship in your life
We sail today...
That was Monday night, then the US Election on Tuesday came and went, and like a needle being dropped on a record, Wednesday was a day of mourning and the rest of the week was a blurred hellscape. And here we are.
And I am still listening to Interpol as I walk briskly through the leaves. I still "understand the assignment" and I still stand by art, music, and community.
Our joy is our power.