About three months ago, John and I decided we were in a rut. We went out to eat and then to a movie; we went to a movie and got a bite to eat. There was something missing. Music. So we pledged to go out at least twice a month and listen to some band we’d never heard of in a venue that doesn’t cost a ton.
This is a high-risk venture. On any given week, there will be a long list of possibilities. Most charge $5 or $10 at the door. Few give you a sample of the music before you go. We’ve sat through some incredibly tepid performances, including a folk singer who billed himself as "like Bob Dylan" but sounded more like one of the Muppets, except off-key.
There have been some good experiences, too. We ended up at 7th Street Entry one night, waiting well past 11 o’clock for an up-and-coming hip-hop band to appear. We were the oldest people in the place by about 10 years, which actually added to our enjoyment. The best part of the night was watching a crowd of really beautiful, high-energy kids dance.
But last night, we struck gold at Acadia’s grand re-opening celebration, with a band led by the singer Gabriel James.
I’d been aware that Acadia closed its Franklin and Nicollet location but was, until I saw the notice for the celebration yesterday, unaware they’d moved to take over the old Riverside Cafe space on the University’s West Bank.
I was disappointed when we first walked in. The Riverside was terrific in its day, but that slice of building has gone through some hard times. It’s beat-up and very musty inside, desperately in need of ventilation. The crowd was standing elbow-to-elbow, and the whole room smelled of body emissions, stale cigarette smoke, and damp leather shoes. To tell the truth, I was ready to turn around and leave.
But the musicians onstage, a three-man bluegrass band called Dragich and the Polemics, were fun to watch — in particular, their string bass player, a tall, wholesome-looking young man who danced with his instrument in a dashing Fred Astaire-ish way.
Acadia has an extensive beer list and 28 varieties on tap, which made my husband happy. They’d also tapped a keg of Surly Furious, a dark, hoppy beer from, of all places, Brooklyn Center, MN. I had a glass of some perfectly acceptable house wine, for $4, and noted (for what it’s worth) that Acadia’s bar food looked to be a notch above the norm.
So we stayed. And I’m so glad.
Because after Dragich and his boys left the stage, Gabriel James — the small, skull-capped man who’d been standing in front of me just moments before and blocking my view — went up. And he began to sing.
According to his website, James plays "an eclectic mix of acoustic jazz," but frankly, I don’t think that gives him, or his band, enough credit. Backed by a percussionist, a bass player, a fantastic trumpet player, and a woman who played both keyboard and flute, James had the sort of unique, unnameable sound of early R.E.M. His songs were original, aching, funny, weird. I would gladly have paid $20 just to hear him perform. Instead, parking and wine included, it cost me about $8.95.
The calendar on James’s myspace lists only TWO performances this spring — the one last night and another (also at Acadia) on May 10. This is a shame — and probably means that despite his talent, he’s supporting himself working a regular old day job, which is really too bad. The 40 minutes he was on stage last night went by way too fast and I would have loved to see him again next week. Or, for that matter, tonight.
