Heroin, Jeff Tweedy, the Palace
/To get the show, we couldn’t just walk in a straight shot. Rather, the route went either to the left or the right and then back in again to the Escenario Puerta del Ángel. I’m not sure what I was really expecting. (Maybe a music venue?) But what I got seemed to be constructed just for the summer in the middle of a lot in the middle of a park on the side of Madrid City Center. The walk to the park will be lovely…eventually, when they start construction again and perhaps plant some vegetation. There were also people shooting heroin. Which, you know, makes it exciting. As I said, the park is a bit out of the way, and right at the entrance is what must be a halfway house of sorts. A place to get clean needles or cleaned up, depending on your stage. I must stress here, it wasn’t dangerous. I wasn’t nervous in the least. But, it was a strange entry into a Jeff Tweedy concert. Or, maybe fitting. Life isn’t always pretty.
That said, there are other reasons why going to shows in Spain is a funny experience. I’m seeing bands that I would normally see in the States (red blood shoes, the leisure society, she & him) but the crowd is a bit different. At Spanish shows, there is:
- More politeness
- Less crowding near the stage (ironic considering the personal space issue)
- More smoking
- Less excessive drinking
- More crowd banter
Not to mention the shows start ON TIME and there is rarely an opening band. I missed a number of bands last winter because I just couldn’t believe they started at 9pm. Trust me, international shows start within fifteen minutes of the time on your ticket.
But back to Jeff Tweedy. The World Cup semifinals were happening that night, so the place was empty. At the beer station (the largest cup option only seven euros, expensive for a Spaniard but cheap for an American), everyone had a radio in their ear and cheers would suddenly erupt. Smart man that he is, Tweedy waited for the football game to be over before he came on stage and when he did, he obligingly listened to us sing the Spanish football chant to him. This occurred a few times that night.
Tweedy is among those at the top of my list. I may never go see Wilco again because they had begun to bore me, but I will go to any Tweedy show. That night, I had been hoping for a particular song. For nothingsevergonnagetinmyway(again), delivered with a particular angst ridden ending. But as soon as he started playing, I knew there was no chance, because the man is different. He is older, he seems sober, he seems content. But he can still play and sing and make me fall like very few can. A true poet. The lyrics rattle me.
The crowd knew most of the songs, but not all… For example, Passenger Side from AM was met with (polite) silence, except for, you know, that one guy. But it seemed to make Tweedy love the crowd more. He asked us to marry him. He asked us to marry his wife as well. (Did I mention that the polite, non crowding crowd makes it easy to get as close as you’d like?) He responded to everything the crowd yelled at him. He played a couple new songs. He played a Bob Dylan song and made it seem both fresh and a homage.
I looked to my left and saw the back of the Royal Palace of Madrid lit up against the sky. This is where I live.
And when it was over, the crowd sounded like the open-air stadium was full rather than two-thirds empty; and then we all dispersed quickly, picked up and swept into the wave of Spain’s first win in a World Cup semifinals.
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Click here for other shows at Escenario Puerta del Ángel.
