A bleak blustery day, sheets of gun-metal layering the sky, rain driving across the industrial warehouse landscape, squirrel thump, thump, scratch, scratch in the ceiling settling down for an afternoon nap or perhaps just organizing the unruly teenage fleas which had me a-thinking Liz Phair and happiness.
The perpetual grin etched on her face for the entire show, could it be bottled, sold traded for perhaps even borrowed for a while on a winter’s day? California dreaming.
I’d resisted till the end until the irrepressible unending grin drew me in and there I was down the front with all the other happy clappers grinning back at her.
Baptist Church Revival, witness Jessie Jackson hopping up and down at Rosa Park’s funeral as the Baptist minister gesticulated, contorted, rapid-fire rhythmical words pouring from his mouth.
Why so happy Liz? Happy to be onstage singing songs critically reviled, a torrent of press all negative but still that grin (was she on something, did it matter?) or were the critics right. Should we all be up front frowning as Liz turned into Britney Spears for a slightly older generation?
Here’s John Fox of The Seattle Sinner “…. I had this idea that she was going to rock but she sang a bunch of ballads and was so off key that I couldn’t avoid the horrid screeching that was her singing voice from any point in the entire venue”
Still, bottle it, roll it on, spray it on, weather the storm, Liz Phair and happiness, methinks I’ll have some of that to go.
Liz Phair plays The Commodore Ballroom Nov 11, 2005