But early this last summer I rediscovered and fell in love with the 6 song EP they have on Spotify, “She’s Drunk Like the Rest of Us”. The lyrics are relatable and funny and unique. I have never found something that makes me feel like their music does. It’s perfect and blunt and emotional and poppy.

So I already knew that I loved Karen Meat’s music when I showed up at Gabe’s last night, October 20th, for their Witching Hour performance. There weren’t very many people that beat me there.

Maybe only five people were hanging out near the stage or at the large tables that line the sides of the room. The room did slowly fill up to around fifteen or twenty people by the time the set started.

The first thing Arin Eaton and Dana Telsrow did was sing the harmonies of their song “6-12-16” with their faces close, almost nose to nose. “Your eyes open up a sea of possibilities/when I look into them, I see a place I’d rather be.”

Their chemistry on stage was immediate. Watching them perform was like watching to two of them have a conversation, like they were just hanging out making music and not on stage. It really, really works.

When Dana finished a guitar solo, Arin says “good job” before she starts singing again, and he responds with a “thank you”. They came up with choreographic tricks to perform throughout their set. Arin took a sip of beer, waterfalled it into Dana’s mouth which he was hanging upside down below her, and sang the line “I cope with it by drinking/every single day” only for Dana to create the most extreme spit take you would have ever seen in your life.

They were fun with their audience, and their camaraderie didn’t seem closed off. Before they performed “Sad”, Arin told the audience to close their eyes, and she’d tell us when to open them.

When we did, Dana was playing the guitar with Arin between him and the instrument with her arms wrapped around to his back.

The songs are also incredibly relatable in a more realistic way than most music. While they are very much 60’s pop influenced, they also talk about depression and rejection and breakups.

“Remember a few hours ago when you broke up with me/in your sister’s front yard in front of your family/oh my god/that was embarrassing” is the intro lyric to “Drone”. “I want to barf on you” is the first line from “Sad”. They’re comedic and cathartic and happy while also in the pits of a depression.

It’s not like all of these are there to make up for a lack of actual talent either. Arin’s vocals are incredible and her voice is perfect for her music. Dana’s guitar solos are nothing short of musical genius, and are so versatile as well.

This performance did nothing but intensify my love for Karen Meat’s music. I will never listen to their music the same way as I have before. If they’re ever in Iowa City again, as they often are, I will one hundred percent be there.

Listen to Karen Meat’s “She’s Drunk Like the Rest of Us” below!

The post Witching Hour: Karen Meat @ Gabe’s 10/20/17 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Attending comedy shows in today’s political climate always seems like a bit of a risk to me, but after seeing Hasan Minhaj recently at The Englert, I felt more open to the experience. Mission Creek Festival brought Daily Show Correspondent Michelle Wolf, comedian Janelle James, and two local comics Spencer Loucks and Arish Singh to The Mill on Saturday night.

The night began quite awkwardly. Loucks (the only white guy performer of the night) got on stage and dramatically declared “Guys… Stop thinking about sex… Hostess sells ice cream!” His first joke was met with mostly silence and confusion. After his weird bit about short orgasms and eating Twinkie ice cream, he became more comfortable on stage and got more laughs with some self-deprecation about embarrassing acting auditions and awkward dates.

Loucks introduced the first guest comedian to Iowa City, Janelle James, whose performance consistently drew laughs. James, who has been opening for Chris Rock’s comedy tour, shared uncomfortable but hilarious thoughts about the transition from “pee-pee” to “dick” in her thirteen-year-old son, and racist casting calls for angry black women.

One of my favorite jokes regarded the popular reality TV show The Bachelor, and how the sought-after single man of the title is just some “basic white dude named Ben.” She also pointed out that in the “900 seasons” of the show, the token black woman and token Latina woman get cut in the second week of the show, even though “minorities put up their best” to audition.

James joked about her confrontations with white people having lived in the Midwest, confessing that she likes white men: “Not as human beings or as people, I mean in a sexual fetishizing way.” She transitioned from this joke to discussing how disappointed she felt when she realized that a bonfire is just a fire, despite the “hype” by white people.

After a short intermission following James’ set, Arish Singh, a comic who splits his time between Chicago and Iowa City took the stage. Having seen Singh perform before, I knew about his provocative jokes that many white neo-liberals of Iowa City respond to with tight lips and discomfort. When half the room did not laugh at James’ joke about the whiteness of The Bachelor, I was curious how they’d respond to Singh’s request that Republicans in the room chant “race war, hell yeah” followed by a minority group they hate.

Unsurprisingly, those audience members did not appreciate his frankness, but the majority of the room did. They laughed at his plea to eradicate the evils of ventriloquism by calling their senators and exposing Jeff Dunham as a cheap racist hack. Then, he introduced the headliner, Michelle Wolf.

Like Singh, she wasted no time before getting political. Wolf brought up how politicians are “trying to figure out where trans people should go to the bathroom,” suggesting an ingenious idea: “bathrooms.” She explained that the only thing women worry about in bathrooms is making sure no one knows they’re the ones pooping: “I tried to cough a lot and only go when the hand dryer was on.” Wolf suggests that pooping loudly in a bathroom is a great way to avoid predators, though; she said that farting on the whole walk home could ensure one’s protection.

Wolf told one of my favorite jokes of the night when she described the “fatal flaw” of women: wanting to help other people. She tells a story of sitting in a meeting and seeing a man who needed a napkin, and becoming so distracted with this “poor baby” and wanting to help this man so badly. “I know where the napkins are, I have legs, I could go get him the napkins and I could save him!” I’ve had this thought so many times before, and while I don’t know about generalizing all women, I could definitely identify with this joke.

While Wolf had some great high notes to her set, she also had numerous moments during her performance when I felt confused about her jokes. Several times in her set, she compared the gender identity and sexuality of gay men to straight women in problematic ways. Wolf included a joke in which a trans women wore a shirt better than her, and told the woman to “stay in her lane.” When Wolf began a joke with “there are some jobs immigrants are just better at,” I really felt disconnected to her comedy.

While she revealed her problematic feminism, I still appreciated some jokes about so-called feminist movements like the Free The Nipple campaign, which she suspected originated from a creepy man wanting to see nipples on the internet. She suggested that Instagram and other social media platforms simply ban male nipples instead.

While Janelle James was my favorite performer of the night, the other comics all had great moments in their set. Thanks to Mission Creek for bringing them to Iowa City!

The post Mission Creek: Michelle Wolf @ The Mill 4/8/17 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

I sat secluded in a corner booth at the Mill, sipping on water and ready for the event to start. The lights dimmed, and hostess Maria Vorhis took the stage. She introduced the event, and then the first speaker, Philip Earl Johnson.

Johnson spoke about a story where his 16 year old self told his father that he wanted to pursue acting. His father was skeptical, but figured that Johnson would learn life lessons for himself. Johnson got off of a train before realizing that he couldn’t find his wallet anywhere in his duffel bag.

He dashed back to the train, gets trapped in the train, and eventually has to jump out of the train before it takes off to an unknown destination. Once he goes back to his friend, he finds his wallet tucked in his duffel bag. “In spite of the risk, you just gotta jump.”

Up next was Ann Marie Nest, a woman who talked about a woman in New York who basically helped house theater kids who were just starting off. The woman was known as Mama, and she treated everyone in ways that made them feel special. Mama told Ann Marie, “You keep doin and sayin what you gotta say because it’s always gonna come out right”. She taught all of her babies (as they called themselves) to never second guess yourself.

Maria Vorhis was next herself, and she indulged into a story that started with her sitting in a coffee shop writing when she heard an older woman ask her friend, “How do you know if your dream is big enough to follow?” (forgive me if I quoted this wrong as I didn’t quite catch the beginning). The woman then continued, “If your palms aren’t sweating, you’re dreams aren’t big enough.”

Maria then talks about a silent writing retreat that she goes on, where speaking is prohibited and they must only write. “What if I have nothing to say?” Maria thought. In the final days of the retreat, she found the her words spilling onto the paper, and when she was done writing, she looked down to find her palms sweaty.

After Maria came a dark story told by Christopher Okiishi. Christopher says blankly that you can tell a lot about people just by their mailboxes. He’s sitting at his brother’s house, staring at the mailbox, dreading going inside. He then recalls to an event that took place before that: his brother took their three firearms that they owned, drove to a Marriott hotel, and committed suicide. Christopher is an expert in suicide prevention, which he deemed useless at this point.

The brother left behind videos for his family; a video for his wife, a video for Christopher, and videos for his three children to see some day. Christopher recalled that there was such kindness in his voice, however in pain and suffering, his eyes were already dead. We go back to the scene outside of his brother’s house, and Christopher really just wants to run over all of the mailboxes in the neighborhood and just start over. He ended his story by saying, “It’s really not a metaphor, it’s just a mailbox.”

Reba Meshulam took the stage next to talk about back in college when she changed her major from theater to Geology. Her geology professor inspired her, and she fell in love with rocks the way that he did.

She got to go over to London to study some more geology, however it wasn’t glamourous like she thought it would be: she was studying their sewage treatment. Her theater friends were also abroad in Europe, doing things that Reba wished she could do. The real reason she went to England, besides the experience, was because her old high school boyfriend Steve moved out to England with his family.

He agreed to meet up, and Reba was thrilled. Once she finally met up with him, everything had turned platonic and it took all she had to plaster a smile on her face for the next 24 hours. After, she met up with her girlfriends from the trip and cried her eyes out. On her last day of sewage work, she refused to go down into the sewer. As soon as she got back home, she changed her major back to theater, and at the end of the day, everything was okay.

Next up was Nestor Gomez. Nestor talked about his first love when he was a freshman in high school. He had a stutter and was shy, so he was too afraid to talk to the girl and tell her that he liked her.

Since he had such a hard time expressing himself verbally, he became a really good writer. He would always write love letters for his friends to give to their girlfriends. So one day, he decided to write one. He had his sister review it to make sure it was good. The sister said that wasn’t what girls like, and she was able to score a double date with the girl of his dreams and a guy that had a crush on her.

Nestor told the girl that he likes her, and she told him she didn’t like him at all and that the only reason that she came was because her cousin (the one on a date with the sister) begged her to come with, as that was the only way the sister would go out with him. The girl even made fun of his stutter. The sister overheard, and came over to comfort Nestor. She told him that the girl doesn’t deserve a young man like Nestor. The story ends with Nestor’s sister giving the girl a bird before they go back home.

Last up was Megan Gogerty (who might I add was one of my favorite professors I’ve had for a class thus far). She talked about the day she realized she wasn’t an actor.

Megan was in grad school as a playwright, and she found all of the other playwrights to be jerks, especially this girl Karissa Mills. She like to hang around the actors, because while they could sometimes be showoffs they were cool, fun to be around, and not snobbish like the other playwrights.

One day, her friends invite her to go cliff diving. Megan’s story included a lot of humor, saying that cliff diving is insane and was the plot of every Bugs Bunny and Wile E Coyote episode. The drive was an hour out (“Because people make their cities far from cliffs!!”) and the entire way she was nervous. Her actor friend Ellie got out of the car and waltzed off of the cliff as if it were nothing.

Megan was last to go when she anxiously thought, “I have got to throw myself off of this cliff.” She realized that actors weren’t showoffs; they were incredibly brave. In other words, crazy. Megan’s issue was that as a writer, she was thinking three steps ahead (“My neck is going to snap!”) and that actors just do things. The thing that finally urges Megan off of the cliff is the thought, “If Karissa Mills were here she would have jumped already.”

The coolest part about this event was how different all of the stories were, but how they were all ultimately about believing in yourself when you really doubted yourself. It was a nice pick-me-up, and I definitely recommend checking out these speakers if they are in the area doing something similar to this again.

The post Witching Hour: Failing or Flying @ The Mill 11/5/2016 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

This week’s resting bitch face will be pretty self-explanatory. I have been brain-storming and really thinking about the top ten things that really piss me off more than anything. This was actually a very hard task for me because so many things grind my gears to no end, but here is what I came up with.

1.) When people chew with their mouths open

I do not understand why this is still even a thing. Why is it so hard for a grown-ass adult to chew with their mouth closed? Like seriously, if you are over the age of seven please close your damn mouth, I beg you. There is nothing worse than when you are on a date or just out for a meal with your friends and someone with is across from you just chomping away.

2.) When people eat my food

There is honestly nothing more irritating that when someone eats my food without asking. While living in the dorms this past year I have had to deal with this almost every day. My roommate takes my food all the time and I’ve told her multiple times that if she wants some just to ask, but she never does. If someone else buys groceries with their own money DON’T TAKE IT WITHOUT ASKING THEM!! It’s so simple people!!

3.) When guys just can’t take a hint

Men are some of the most persistent creatures out there, but there are some times when they need to learn to take a hint. I cannot tell you how many times that I have been out with friends and a guy comes up to talk to me and I am not interested at all, yet they still keep talking to me. I know what you’re thinking, “Wow, how does this chick really see this as a problem? She must be a big ole b$*ch”. Well, I will tell you that this isn’t always a problem but when I am avidly acting disinterested in a guy’s attention and he doesn’t see that then it gets a little annoying. Like when a guy keeps texting you repeatedly even though you have not replied the first twenty times. I’m sure I am not the only girl out there that has experienced this.

4.) When people try to talk to me while I have headphones in

This I know all of you can relate to. There are just those days when you want nothing to do with other people so you look for your trusty headphones to be your barrier between you and the outside world. Still, there is always that one overly happy and oblivious person that does not notice that you literally cannot today and they try to tell you all about some “crazy” thing that happened to them the other day or how their second cousin, twice removed has a pet rat that has a third ear. You get the point. If I have headphones in, that should scream to anyone that may want to talk to me, “Please don’t unless you want hell to be released upon you, Thank you”.

5.) Losing or ruining one of my favorite pieces of clothing

First, let’s take a moment of silence for all the articles of clothing that have been long forgotten in the booth of a restaurant or that favorite dress you had that someone spilt a cranberry vodka on at the scummy freshman bar in college. Okay, now that that’s over, back to reality. Everyone has lost something that was important to them at some point in their lives. We are forgetful beings, me especially. I cannot begin to tell you how many vital pieces of my wardrobe that I have so carelessly spilled on or lost forever. This year alone I have lost my favorite scarf, ripped a hole in over three pairs of leggings and spilled a drink all over my white converse. It is a travesty.

6.) Slow walkers

I understand everyone moves at their own pace in life, but when I am running late to class or wherever, I do not appreciate when other people walk at such a leisurely speed. It is even worse when it is a whole group of people that block the entire hallway or sidewalk so that you can’t even get through. It is common courtesy to not take up the entire sidewalk so with the hell are you taking up the whole space!?! If you are walking slowly, taking your sweet ass time and you see someone trying to pass you then let them through please, it will make your life a whole lot easier.

7.) Being interrupted

There is a special place in hell from those that interrupt others. This has to be one of my biggest pet peeves because there is no worse feeling than when you are really excited to tell someone about something and they won’t even let you get a word in. Anytime I get interrupted I am tempted to scream at the top of my lungs, “IT IS NOT YOUR TURN! WAIT FIVE FREAKING SECONDS THEN YOU MAY SPEAK!” Even though we are all guilty of interrupting someone at some point in our lives (mainly when we are young children), by the time you are an adult you should know that it is extremely rude to interrupt someone when they are speaking.

8.) People that hate dogs

This is one that I will never understand but whenever I hear someone say that they hate dogs it makes me so mad. Dogs are the one type of animal on earth that will love you to no end even if you are a complete asshole to them. I understand if you have ever been attacked by a dog or something like that but if you just don’t like dogs because they are “messy” or “hyper” then I don’t like you.

9.) Spilling my coffee

This is one of the absolutely worst things that can happen to someone. I die a little bit inside every time.

10.) When people bash on others music tastes

This is just all around irritating because obviously everyone has different tastes. You like classical, cool. You jam out to gangster rap on the daily, neat. You ride around on your tractor listening to country, stop, just kidding but not really.

These are just the top ten things that piss me off, but as you know, there are many more reasons why I suffer from resting bitch face :)

The post Reasons for the Resting Bitch Face: 10 Things That Drive Me Crazy appeared first on KRUI Radio.

IMPORTANT PLEASE READ: Hey! My name is Logan, I am taking over this column for Ali so things will be a little different around here from now on :)

Getting asked stupid questions about my tattoos and piercings is in the top ten reasons why I have a resting bitch face.

One of the many daily struggles of having multiple tattoos and piercings is being bombarded with stupid questions. For example ever since I got my first tattoo I’ve been asked the question, “Did that hurt?” at least

once a day from some random person that proceeds to try and touch my tattoos. I understand that as

humans we are naturally curious but that does not give us the right to touch another person without their consent or ask stupid questions that you could answer yourself. Of course getting a tattoo hurts! You are getting a shit ton of tiny needles poked into your skin fifty to three thousand times per minute! But it is not an unbearable amount of pain. Do you really think I would have more than one tattoo if they really hurt that bad?

Heavily tattooed people know this struggle and we have no problem with you asking questions about our ink but please do not be ignorant about it. We do not mind if you touch them just as long as you ask first, we also do not mind if you ask the meaning behind them just as long as you do not mind if there is not one.

That is another struggle within itself. I hate when people who do not even have a tattoo say that all tattoos need to have a meaning behind them. Not all tattoos need to have some sort of deep, philosophical meaning behind them. Over half of mine I got done just because I liked the way they looked. Tattoos are an art form, I am paying the artist to put their artwork on my skin forever. It is just like going to a gallery and purchasing a painting or drawing that you love.

As for my piercings, especially my septum, I get asked more than once a day if hurt or “Why would you ever do that to yourself? No guy is going to like you with that in”. First off, why would I want to be with someone who did not like me for who I was or what I looked like? but we will

save that for a different time. Yet again of course getting my septum and nostril pierced hurt, they are putting a huge needle through my nose, but it wasn’t any worse than getting your ears pierced.

Another question I hate getting asked about my tattoo and piercings is, “How do you expect to get an actual job with those?”. Well first of all, I can cover up all of my tattoos and my piercings are not permanent. Obviously I am not going to keep my septum ring in forever, and as for my nose piercing, I know multiple older people that have very successful jobs and still have it in. More and more people are getting tattoos; in fact we are the majority now so all you people who do not have one get with the program (totally kidding, but if you are thinking about getting one just do it). It is becoming more acceptable to have them even in the workplace.

Just because I have tattoos doesn’t mean I am not a nice or respectable person. Tattoos do not make us ugly, irresponsible or mean. In fact all the people that I have encountered that have tattoos and

piercings are some of the kindest people I have met. So the next time you think about judging people based on their appearance or asking them questions that may make them angry or disrespected just don’t do it. Please and thank you.

The post Reasons for the Resting Bitch Face appeared first on KRUI Radio.

It had snowed an abundant amount the night before, so the superintendent at Ballard High School had called for a snow day. Lucky for me he did. If he had not, I may have never been able to write this personal narrative or learn that, at the end of the day, something that is heartfelt and simple can go a long way.

At the time I was an eighth grader, who had finally grown into her baby fat and was just becoming interested in boys. All my friends had had boyfriends in the past, except for me. So months before this fateful day, I had devised a plan to secure myself a man. Not just any man: Nicholas Baumhover.

Nick was a year younger than me, who just happened to be a stone, cold fox. Being the cougar I was, I watched him for a while. I learned who he was friends with and what type of activities he was in. Once my research was complete, my friend Val helped me get his attention. That was stage one.

Stage two was to create a schedule to get him to fall madly in love with me. Without going into too much detail, the schedule consisted of me texting him first for a number of days, only to stop one day, so he felt like something was missing. He would soon realize that I was the thing that was missing, and text me first instead.

The last stage, to really seal the deal, was my Halloween party. I invited a number of my friends and a number of Nick’s friends, so he would be more motivated to come over. I provided food, movies, and a fire: all the makings for a smashing party. I dressed up as a sexy clown; well, as sexy as an eighth grader who didn’t quite know how to put on makeup could be.

Nick dressed up as a Jamaican. His costume was made up of a black and white striped shirt and a red, green, and yellow beanie with black dreads coming out of it. My costume was a short, white dress with pink frills along the edge and colorful polka dots strategically placed throughout the flirtatious ensemble. We were, without a doubt, the perfect match.

We spent the whole party talking by the fire; hours of divulging our life stories, and Nick fixed the fire every ten minutes to keep me warm. We were officially “together.”

The next few months were bliss. Every day we had stimulating conversations, via text of course. He even gave me his zip-up camouflage fleece, which my friend Val stole from me and gave to someone else. Safe to say, the fleece was never returned to Nick. I was so committed to our relationship that I even stayed home from school one day to finish his Christmas present. I knitted him a black and blue stocking hat that ended up being too big for him, so it just looked like a beanie.

During many of our text conversations, Nick would brag about how great his house was for sledding. So, you can imagine my excitement when I saw “Ballard Middle School: Closed” roll across the bottom of the TV screen one fateful morning.

Nick’s parents had the day off, since the roads were so bad leading out of town, so they let him invite friends to go sledding. Since I was his girlfriend, I received one of the exclusive invites. Around ten in the morning, my friend Val and I walked to Nick’s house in our snow gear. When we arrived, we saw Nick on his four-wheeler and his friend, Charlie, riding on a sled tied to the back of the vehicle with rope. They were whipping around, having a grand time. When Charlie’s turn was over, Nick came to greet us.

He asked if Val and I wanted to have a go, and we obviously said yes. So he tied another rope to the back of the four-wheeler, and Val and I jumped onto our individual sleds.

At first it was really fun. The sled would bounce over every hunk of snow, and the brisk, cool air hit my face as we picked up speed. But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end, and to an end it came when Nick decided to make a quick, left turn.

Because of how sharp the turn was, I was violently pushed off in the opposite direction of Nick, which would have been fine, if there was a snow bank or something soft for me to run into, but that would have been too easy. Instead of a snow back, I ran into the Baumhover’s thick, wood mailbox post. Luckily, I was wearing a helmet so nothing severe was injured, but I did receive a nice bruise the size of a toaster on my thigh.

Unfortunately I was a junior high basketball cheerleader, so I often had to wear short shorts that revealed my battle scar. Needless to say, my bruise reminded me, and everyone around me, of that glorious day for weeks to come.

After my unpleasant encounter with the mail post, I had had enough of sledding, so instead of challenging death, I convinced my friends to play in the snow with me while the rest of the group risked their lives trying to get an adrenaline rush. After a few hours, everyone was cold, so we took off our snow gear in the Baumhovers’ shed and went into their house to warm up.

Once I was warm, Nick asked if I wanted to go help him pick up everyone’s snow gear in the shed. Being the good girlfriend I was, I obliged right away.

Once we got to the shed, I went right to work. Lost in my concentration of the difficult task of picking up soaked snow pants, I did not notice Nick standing by the door. I finally looked up when he said he wanted to show me something. Excited to see something new, I trotted over there. When I got there, we were standing face to face.

“What is it?” I asked nonchalantly.

“Mistletoe,” He said with a smile. I giggled and looked up but found no leafy green plant hanging above us.

“There’s no mistletoe,” I said confused.

“Does it matter?” Nick said with a nervous smile.

“Nope,” I said without hesitation.

Nick and I leaned in and met each other in the middle. Before we touched lips, I took a moment to truly take him in. We were so close that I could smell his laundry detergent, which smelled like a fruitier version of Lysol. I saw his face more clearly. He had green eyes: the color of the evergreen trees out in his front yard. He had cheeks as pink as a Strawberry Starburst.

Finally our lips met.

The kiss was only a few seconds long, but during those few seconds I made the mental note to ask him what type of chapstick he used because his lips were as soft as butter. After the kiss we finished picking up the snow pants and went inside to have hot chocolate and scotcheroos that his mom had made while we were “helping pick up.”

Nick and my relationship only lasted a few months but to this day, our first kiss is the only one I could possible tell in so much detail that it adds up to over a thousand words. I have had a handful of first kisses in my life time, but none that could match up to this one.

I do not remember my first kiss because of the fireworks or the electricity. I do not remember it because I thought the boy was drop dead gorgeous, even though he was pretty nice to look at. I remember it because it was pure, simple, and heartfelt. It was just a simple kiss from a sweet boy who ran me into a mail post earlier that day.

The post First Things First appeared first on KRUI Radio.

All seating for this event was on stage, which created an intimate and personal atmosphere for both the audience and the artists.

The warm up act was singer and cellist Ben Sollee.  He had a rich and rustic voice that wove itself to the cello in a fantastic way–his voice and cello enhanced each other in both volume and intensity.  Sollee is definitely worth checking out.

William Fitzsimmons and his scraggly beard took the stage next.  He began strumming and singing right away and it became apparent that despite his scruffy appearance he has a fluidly peaceful voice.
Fitzsimmons played two slow, lullaby-like songs before he addressed the crowd.  “It’s going to kind of be a party night if you can’t already tell,” he said sarcastically.  “So don’t be afraid to get up and dance.”

He continued to play the same sort of sounding music.  It was all hardcore folk, which is to say, good lyrics and smooth melodies.  Each song was as soothing as a warm cup of tea.  But the best part of the show, by far, was Fitzsimmon’s hilarious commentary.

“That song was about boners,” he announced about a song about his depression (which seemed to be what every song is about), then bashfully looked at his feet and said, “Wait, I have a confession…that song wasn’t really about boners.”

Two things made this concert that significantly better.

One, the on stage seating made it a “living-room show of sorts” as Fitzsimmons pointed out, and I think this is the environment in which he flourishes.  He connected with the audience well, and his connection to the audience reinforced his comfort and confidence on stage.

Two, I firmly believe I would not have enjoyed the concert if he had not talked.  His music was good, but it doesn’t seem to be meant for the stage–it seems for suitable for the background music of a movie or tv show (two of Fitzsimmons songs have actually been played in Grey’s Anatomy)  or otherwise playing when you’re moody and it’s raining.  His personality was sparkling and humor comparable to a stand-up comedian.

Fitzsimmons played his first ever encore at the conclusion of the show.  It lasted 40 minutes making the concert overall a little over 3 hours. He claimed the show’s painfulness was somewhere between a beloved family pet’s death and world annihilation.

However I liked the show, just in a different sort of way.  Fitzsimmons is a  talented musician and perhaps an even more talented comic.  I wouldn’t mind seeing him in stand-up.

Here’s one of his songs for a rainy day.

The post Show Review: William Fitzsimmons @ The Englert 5/7/14 appeared first on KRUI Radio.