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Soul Coughing, My Tapes and Me | ||||||||||||||||||||
| University Of Wisconnson, 5-14-99 | ||||||||||||||||||||
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Seeing this band for just over four years now, I have witnessed some of the finest performances, inspired moments, and to be fair, 45 minutes of awkwardness that made up 1998's Zoned For The Holidays show. I feel that I have done my part in catapulting four of my heroes into the spotlight that they occupy today, with only one regret. (Read: no more First Avenue shows.) Writing this comes as a surprise to me. I have been vexed my music before and often wrote about my experiences with the Grateful Dead, but trying to capture a Soul Coughing show is new. It had never occurred to me to do this until the evening of May 14 as we were driving home to Minneapolis. Earlier that afternoon my then-Wife Christi, brothers Adam and Tim and myself piled into the car and set out to find Zorn Hall. Hoping all the way that the evening would be a long overdue end to the lull in 'the Coughs' live prowess. Having seen a lukewarm show two weeks before at a college in northern Minnesota, that, piled on top of a winter of 'festival' gigs with the same excitement level, left us dry. Fingers crossed, we arrived, got lost, found the venue and set out to procure tickets. A few days previous to the show I had arranged to trade live tapes of the band for a slot on the guest list courtesy of the opening band. Mad props to Bobby Llama!! You guys rock! With this out of the way, the box-office attendant sold us the remaining three at $18.00 a pop. This may sound steep, but as you will hopefully see, it was a bargain. Bobby Llama played a very strong set, complete with an appearance by M. Doughty scatting out the bands name and urging everyone to support local music. Very cool. The Boys took the stage about 8:50 to the twang of Chicago filling the gymnasium come theatre. Unfortunately this song was on autopiolt, but hey, at least we were in the room. Rollin' followed, and I thought to myself 'Great! Now things will pick up?.maybe slowly?.or not at all?' Un-inspired. Blame! One of my favorites when played well, but again it was slow and not very engaging. Even during the short mid-song jam I felt like sitting down, which is something I have never done at a show. It felt as if I had seen this show before, played by route slowly and much to soft. Amidst this haze of premature disappointment I was hit unawares by the power of the line "With a body like soft serve?" From the second it was uttered, the entire band exorcised the demons that had been haunting them. Larry hit that "Perfect Balance" of sound and clarity; the band felt this, as did the crowd. Everyone seemed to be heading into a space that now had me thinking 'this might be the show afterall'. Concreting this further was a solid Idiot Kings. My god they can rock. Nothing in this tune prepared me for The Woolly Imbibe however. Waiting for three years to hear a song does weird things to ones head when the missing arrangement comes forth from the stage. I danced so hard that I nearly fell over taking Tim with me. The Boolean vibe was exhaled into $300, which for me could not have been better. Ecstatic comes close to what I was feeling. Mark twisted my head for a year that night. Stooping down to puff some of the herb, I rose to a dimly lit house and an incredibly mellow Maybe I'll Come Down. The best I have seen. Quiet Sebastian, barely rumble. Softly, Yuval, keep the time that's all. Sublime Mark, writhe in the darkness. Exquisite Michael, mystify us with your words "PACK YOUR BAGS ASS MAN!' Blinding light rivaled only by genius. "SAID PACK YOUR BAGS!!" Freeze or burn. Freeze or burn. Given that choice, it became obvious which path the band had chose. Within the time that it takes to utter "I can't BELIVE this show you guys!', they launched into "16 Horses". Not the best, definitely not the worst. Horses was followed by what for me became the highlight of the evening?thus far. Like a worn anthem that has seen more than anyone in the room came Blue Eyed Devil. Not entirely without its rough spots, the first two verses came off sounding hollow compared to the jam that emerged. Someone once asked Lars "What is making that sound?" Seemed like a silly question to me up to this jam. Mark utterly took my breath away using his sampler to evoke the screams of unheard millions. With breath gone, the rest of the band made easy prey of my soul, body, and mind throughout the long jazzy passages that seemed to come to fruition when the notes of Misinformed materialized. What can I say, when mid-way through a set they unveil not one but two "Oh-I-Hope-They-Play-____"s? IF ANY ONE HAS THIS TAPE, CONTACT ME! It really was that good. Though only 1/2 of Misinformed was to be played, it comprised a truly inspired mid jam departure as the notes took an unidentifiable spin into freeform madness. It is this madness that separates the Man from the Animal, and makes him want to put the spoon to the lighter. The Devil once again had control. Twisting columns of sound, spinning around a beat that found purchase in or souls only to spit them back into orbit. It seemed to go on forever, snaking up to Heaven then plummeting down into he depths of Hell. If it had lasted forever, I would still be there, dancing as I fell through layers of my mind watching reality disintegrate. Only when the tempo more controlled did I realize that St.Louise would be the only way to end it. It did, and it was perfect. Absolutely perfect. Doughty then seduced those in the know with a story of a Girl In A Box. The Moon Sammy who followed was great. This song is my all time favorite, so I will not bore you with the endless praise I would like to heap upon this version. Suffice to say I was moved by the virtuosity of the jam that contained a rare (only?) "Money " jam that seemed to erupt spontaneously. Miss the Girl. Again not a showstopper, but very strong, ran quickly into Mr.Bitterness. A welcome addition to any night, this song has always brought out the, ah,..lets just say that when Doughty decided to leave the stage and walk the aisles singing the "name called out" bit, the word Evangelist took on a strange new meaning. Circling once, then to the grimace of Lars and the obvious distaste of Security, twice he walked. Touching the foreheads of his congregation floating over the mental rosepetals laid before him, he allowed a very appropriate abuse of power as the spotlight found him perched on the soundboard riser, back turned to the Church. With the power of every single note that had been played, every last cry of a tortured sample, moaning bass and rumbling drums, the cacophony came to an excruciating halt. Almost instantly Doughty whipped around to face his disciples. "Move aside! Let the MAN go THROUGH!" Like it was for Moses, the seas parted. What followed may be the finest Super Bon Bon I have ever seen. This night was blazing with an energy that was tangible. I was amazed that M. was not torn apart by the crowd that he had lashed into a righteous flurry of joy, as he made his way to the stage. Then it was over. Band intro, thanks to Lars & Co., props to Bobby Llama, to us, and then darkness. Some one had the funny idea to turn on the house lights, and a few people actually believed it. Their loss. Like thunder came the ovation when the lights dimmed. Cutting through it came the inevitable off key strumming of Circles. Over played as it is, this night, standing in a crowd of students, thinking of the recent events at Columbine, the words were very intimate. It shone like a jewel. Convinced that Janine would follow, a RUN DMC exploration caught us all off guard. Honestly it felt as if we were back home at First Avenue letting a relatively unknown band make love to us. When Mark started in with the Bus to Beelzebub samples I cannot say for sure that I did not cry. Like the Soft Serve, I knew that this was going to be the motherfucker of all Buses. Darker even than the Blue Eyed Jam, this raging beast turned the corner from the familiar driving beat to an other worldly Reggae fury. If this dense soundscpe was to send us home, then I would leave a happy man. I was spent, and I was sure that this would be it. Of course, I was wrong again. Bus gave way slowly, almost grudgingly to yet another beat. One that upon first hearing I could not place. When I did, I was treated to the absolutely perfect, vital, jazzy, dangerous Uh, Zoom Zip that I had dreamt of for the past two years. Beguiling would do it no justice as a descriptor. To think, less than two and a half-hours ago I believed that his would be 'just another show'! Each band mate took the spotlight for a turn during these final notes of the night, and each glimmered. Smiles from the stage were indistuingisable from those on the faces of the audience. This band was having fun. This band was not the same band that played to me two weeks ago. This band was the reason that I keep coming back. In fact this band far exceeded any expectations I had ever had of Soul Coughing. Then it was for real. Again we were thanked, as was band and crew. When Sebastian takes the Bull Fiddle with him, and Yuval seems reluctant to go, you have to know that it will be to long of a time before you get to hang out with these people again. Even if it's only two weeks, a month or 24 hours, it will be too long. Driving back home that night I realized that there was this strange feeling in my heart, and an electric charge to the conversation that floated about the car. This sensation had been missing to me since 1993, when I last saw the Dead. It was then I knew that I would write this, and it was then that I knew the next tour would be mine. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ | |||||||||||||||||||
| My Tapes | ||||||||||||||||||||
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January 16, 2000 As I sit here transcribing this from a handwritten form, I find it hard to believe that that 'next tour' may indeed not ever happen. While there have been two or three shows, in New York and California, it seems that the band has been torn apart by that age old "Label Dispute". It is my hope that this is solved both quickly and amicably, leaving the band with the integrity that they have worked so hard at to gain. As nice as is it to have the, as of this writing, un-released M.Doughty solo project, and my numerous tapes to fall back on, I cannot help but wonder if I will get to see these men at all this summer, in any incarnation. I can only hope. This also brings up an issue that has been one of peeves for a long time. In recent months a problem has developed with people selling live recordings of Soul Coughing on-line. I would like to take this opportunity to vent a bit. With the unheard of personal blessing of the band I have been able to record three shows with my video camera. They are by no means great tapes, but I am proud of them. I also collect audiotapes of shows and just about any damn thing to do with SC. I have looked on e-bay from time to time just to see what could be had. Tour posters, out of print t-shirts, autographed copies of Slanky, promo videos/singles, and the numerous 'unopened' copies of El Oso have tempted me. I have even bid on a couple of posters, but never won any of the auctions. Not once have I ever been close to bidding on a bootleg though. I may come off as sounding like a zealot here, but come on. The band had, for years, given us carte blanche to tape, but due to some unscrupulous people, this right has been revoked. Might be that this comes from the WB people, but either way, the selling of bootlegs directly led to this. My first tapes came from an unknown source, were listenable, did not cost me any thing other than the price of blanks and a nasty headache trying to find a person who was willing to help me out. That made those tapes special, and I still listen to them from time to time. Had I spent 30-50 bucks on them, I do not think they would have that same glow. That money would be better spent on a bag, or a nice bottle of wine to have as you listen to Ruby Vroom in the safe darkness of your living room, helping you to hear that sample that has escaped you. Better yet, take $10, buy some blanks and find someone who will put music on them for you. It is really becoming quite easy. There are lots of high quality tapes and CDR's in circulation now. The people are nice and in most cases, very dependable. (My apologies to Mat and Dav) People with tapes want what you have, or they can't wait to have you hear 'this killer tape' that they have. Even better still, take the money that you will save by not bidding on an uncertain sounding bootleg, go out to your local record store and buy that CD of the local band you have been meaning to see. This would mean the world to them, and they might just be the next Soul Coughing. Spend the remaining $35 on a door charge and drinks some Friday going to see this band so they can show them that they have 'It'. This may even give you the rights to stand out in front of your Neighborhood Uber-Venue and brag about how you used to see them in the bar across the street before they got big. Wouldn't you like that? Thank you for taking the time to read what I have put here. I will close now by saying that I have taken great pleasure in making tapes for those people who have for me, and even more pleasure in making tapes for those who have not yet had the mind shattering experience of seeing Soul Coughing live. For those people, I hope every day that I will be that freak you see this summer, dancing like a madman, trying to reach the farthest star and thanking the Lord Almighty for sending me the Soul Coughing. I hope that I freak you out. | |||||||||||||||||||
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