Trans/continental (pt. 5)

9:30 Club, DC

The 9:30 club always makes memories for me. Not all venues do. At the end of a tour many of the shows will have blurred into a series of impressions, often without the geographical memory attached. But I always remember the 9:30 Club, which treats musicians and crews like they understand what tour is, and the sort of kindness and comfort that will make us feel at home (I do wish those cupcakes were vegan though, hehe).

Of course, DC in general has a way of being memorable for a musician like me. The first time I played the Black Cat (another wonderful venue in DC) there was repeated knocking on the back entrance door, which had a sign on it saying don’t open this door for anyone. I was in the green room alone, and this insistent knocking wouldn’t stop. I began to fear the worst (as I often do), worried that someone needed urgent help. So I opened the door, and a white guy in a beanie says ‘Hi, I’m Ian.’ When you grew up in ‘80’s/’90’s punk scenes, you don’t really need Ian MacKaye to introduce himself; you’ve been to Fugazi shows, watched the VHS, stared at that album cover; you’re familiar with the visage. But you don’t expect to open a stage door and see him standing in the alley. Similarly, you don’t expect to walk into your green room some 20 years later to see Fugazi/Messthetics bassist Joe Lally sitting on the couch talking to your bandmate about life and bass lines, which happened to me last night.

Joe is close with my good friends Janel and Anthony, and I’ve met the bass legend a few times through them, but last night was the longest we’ve chatted one on one, and it was illuminating. I won’t try to paraphrase his thoughts here, but his conception of bass playing is as grounded and philosophical as you’d expect, if like me you’ve been a fan of his playing for decades. Bass playing, for some of us, is an almost metaphysical pursuit that is more about the function of low-end instruments in music than their manipulation. Joe seems to share a similar sense of the instrument.

(A note on the margin: Bass, to me, is a social function. It is an ethic. Though I’ve spent thousands of hours practicing technique on both the bass viol and the bass guitar, dexterity for its own sake has never meant as much to me as a good bass line played well, with a good sound. The bass line is a thread in a piece of music, weaving melody, rhythm, and harmony together, while helping to navigate the structure. There are innumerable approaches that honor this principle, which is common across centuries and in many cultures and almost every contemporary genre of music. It is not always a stringed instrument playing this sort of role, but it is often a lower-voiced instrument or human voice. To me, bass in this sense is something of a universal principle that I try to honor. I’ll expand more on this somewhere else, another time. At any rate, it was lovely to spend a few minutes touching on the philosophy of bass with a master—and personal inspiration— such as Joe Lally, just minutes before hitting the boards myself.)

Earlier in the day I got to spend a bit of time with my dear friend Maddie and her bestie Zack, both from the aforementioned Ariel crew/coven. We had some heartfelt chaotic catching up to do (as could perhaps be expected of queers trauma-bonded by grief). Maddie gave me perfect gifts as always, and I am always wearing the jewelry Ariel gave me that Zack made. Maybe due to Maddie and Zack being there, I felt Ariel’s presence again last night on stage, and again struggled to keep it together during I Want You Here (and failed to do so backstage immediately afterward; I’m grateful for what a good friend Sharon is in such moments).

Sharon went back on stage by herself for the encore and did an amazing solo rendition of an early song of hers. It’s incredible how powerful her songs can be with just her voice and a clean electric guitar. I like to be on stage with a bass in my hand as much as possible during a show, but I also really enjoy hearing Sharon play solo. I love this band we have, but sometimes I’m not sure she always needs me making all that noise behind her. I’m not being falsely modest; there’s something profound in hearing a uniquely masterful musician—such as Sharon—play unaccompanied, a la Anne Briggs, João Gilberto, Thelonious Monk. I’m really not sure if she plans to play more solo songs on this tour, but I’m looking forward to finding out either way.

Next stop: Philadelphia!