January 12th, Saturday
Baltimore, MD
The Convocation
Windhand
Serpent Throne
The Pilgrim (record release show)
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| The Convocation, from Baltimore |
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| Windhand, from Richmond |
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| note the owl, red curtains, and Charlie-Brown-shirt-motif flooring |
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| My pants vibrated during this set. |
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| Also, my fucking heart was having a hard time watching Windhand; they were that heavy. |
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| The Pilgrim, from Baltimore |
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This show was a long-time-coming as The Pilgrim's record release event. This record, their first, has been in the works for four years. And I'm not talking 'working on it' as in writing, developing, rehearsing, creating; I'm talking they've had their songs together, finished and ready: they just needed to press and bring the thing into physical being and to the public. I won't go into the dirty details, but the Baltimore City Paper wrote a feature on The Pilgrim's situation a year ago here. Crazy!
So, yeah, going to this show and being a part of it was pretty awesome. The Wind Up Space was a nice size: not too big, not too small, just right, with places to sit around and a bar. They even had a coat rack. As I get older, I am noticing the different things I care about. It used to be: Do they have a working toilet? Now: a coat rack and a venue gets points. Who would have thought?
All the bands were good; I had never seen any of them live before, although Josh found out the drummer from Windhand was in Face Down in Shit, whom we saw at a cabin-in-the-woods of North-Carolina show over a decade ago*. Windhand, I must make note, made my clothing vibrate: I could literally feel my pants shaking from their sound. If you have a heart condition you may want to take a pass on seeing them live; I seriously felt my organs wobbling around inside my chest and my heart felt like it was working hard to have an independent beat apart from the music. They were super heavy live. Just a warning.
Again, The Pilgrim: loads of fun to watch and hear. Check out their music here. Late night, but good times. Enjoy the pics.
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*A small house, in the middle of nowhere. I can't recall how we got there; I remember a mini-camper van, driven/owned by a friend's Richmond boyfriend. I remember hours on the road. We were with the singer of Zegota. Were they playing that night? They must have been. Zegota and Face Down in Shit (what a name!), I'm sure others. I don't remember seeing the show. I recall a dingy house, but that could be any strange one-off house show I remember: Maryland, New Jersey, North Carolina... Enter through the kitchen door. Yellowy floor tiles, plastic garbage can. Dishes in the sink. I think the show was in the living room.
I'm sure the music was loud, very loud with the absence of neighbors. What I do recall is the darkness, the silhouttes of the trees against the black of the surrounding hills, the mountains. We slept in the camper, parked to the side of the dirt road that led to the dirt driveway. It was cold, so cold. The Richmond boyfriend, tall and brunette, does not seem concerned. "We'll spoon!" Did he really say that? I thought he might sleep with Moe. He ends up with me(??) and Josh- some weird snuggle-spoon threesome. This probably plants the seed in my subconscience that snuggle-spooning is normal and platonic. (My apologies to anyone I later snuggle-spooned who may have been too uncomfortable to say anything!) I'm uncomfortable, but desperately cold. As much of a planner I'd like to think I am now, we neglect to bring blankets or sleeping bags this night. We sleep.
The stillness of the dead dark of night, all but the rustling of the pines.
1998/9
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