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Thursday, January 26, 2012
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Flyin' Solo With Twin Atlantic
Although I am no longer a 22 year old, I had never known the excitement of attending a show alone… Until I bought two tickets to see Twin Atlantic at Philadelphia’s Union Transfer, blissfully unaware that the show was scheduled for the night before Thanksgiving. I’m officially in the age bracket where I am on my second Thanksgiving preparing dinner for friends and family, which entails being up at around 4:00 or 5:00 AM. Therefore, those friends who are not cooking are either visiting parents, traveling out of state or are out drinking fairly early in the evening.
Needless to say, when my boyfriend let me know he couldn’t attend a few hours before the doors opened, I was stuck flying solo. How anyone could not be excited for this show was beyond me. I had taken a half day at work, and was at the venue thirty minutes before the doors opened (another first).
Union Transfer itself is not only laid out perfectly, but restored meticulously.
Surprisingly, it does not carry with it the hungover prostitute smell that normally accompanies the classic music locales, ie: the Trocadero, TLA & Electric Factory. It has yet to be determined if this is a sign of cleanliness or just that the venue just hasn’t been christened yet. *I’ll get back to you after further investigation.*
The last time I was at a show specifically for the first opener was probably in high school, when I promised my chemistry partner I would go see his band. I’m not going to lie; I still get a kick out of being permitted into the “over 21” section when I go to shows.
From my carefully-selected seat in the bar area, I was at a vantage point that allowed me to see the stage for sound check/warm-up. Drink secured in hand, I was lucky enough to see Sam McTrusty, Ross McNae, Barry McKenna & Craig Kneale warm up. I’m assuming this is what my sisters felt like when they went to see the Backstreet Boys when we were younger. Luckily, I had the good sense not to care about them (Yes, I am bragging about that.) Not only did we get a sneak peek, but Frightened Rabbit started blaring through the speakers as filler immediately after Twin Atlantic was finished and the doors were opening.
Barely able to contain my excitement, I entered the main stage area, and nonchalantly leaned against the rail separating the alcohol from the minors….
From the murmurs in the crowd, I could tell that Twin Atlantic’s thick Glaswegian accents piqued the interest of at least half of the attendees. By the end of their first song, the crowd around the stage was growing exponentially, clearly intrigued. Semi-embarrassed about being the only person in my immediate vicinity who knew the words, I held back and remained to the rear of the auditorium.
Unfortunately for those around me, within the first cords of Yes, I Was Drunk, I was in full-blown screaming-along-at-the-top-of-my-lungs mode. Multiple show-goers asked me the name of the band, as clearly, I was the crazy chick who was probably following them around the U.S. in a creepy, windowless van.
The band proved to be better live that I had even expected. The heavy riffs and McTrusty’s throaty, sometimes primal, voice repeatedly hit notes that made the entire room vibrate.
Toward the end of the performance, lead singer, McTrusty, decided to dedicate a song, You’re Turning into John Wayne, to their tour mates; A move that was pretty damn ballsy as it does have some lines, when taken out of context, that can be misconstrued as the band absolutely hating Americans. Fortunately, nobody seemed to pick up on it. As we all know, you don’t insult a Philadelphian about their heritage.
The band closed out their set and proceeded backstage. Thoroughly happy and throat burning, I looked around. Union Transfer was experiencing an influx of confused-looking youngsters wearing “BLAME IT ON MY A.D.D.” t-shirts. **Clearly none of these teenagers have seen PCU, as they would all be classified as “that guy.” If it wasn’t for “those guys,” I probably would have stayed to experience this AWOLNATION thing. Alas, I had a brining turkey to babysit and a decent drive home on one of the biggest road-trip/drunk driver nights of the year.
I can proudly say I was lucky to see Twin Atlantic at their second show ever in our good city. Good show, guys and we look forward to your return!
Needless to say, when my boyfriend let me know he couldn’t attend a few hours before the doors opened, I was stuck flying solo. How anyone could not be excited for this show was beyond me. I had taken a half day at work, and was at the venue thirty minutes before the doors opened (another first).
Union Transfer itself is not only laid out perfectly, but restored meticulously.
Surprisingly, it does not carry with it the hungover prostitute smell that normally accompanies the classic music locales, ie: the Trocadero, TLA & Electric Factory. It has yet to be determined if this is a sign of cleanliness or just that the venue just hasn’t been christened yet. *I’ll get back to you after further investigation.*
The last time I was at a show specifically for the first opener was probably in high school, when I promised my chemistry partner I would go see his band. I’m not going to lie; I still get a kick out of being permitted into the “over 21” section when I go to shows.
From my carefully-selected seat in the bar area, I was at a vantage point that allowed me to see the stage for sound check/warm-up. Drink secured in hand, I was lucky enough to see Sam McTrusty, Ross McNae, Barry McKenna & Craig Kneale warm up. I’m assuming this is what my sisters felt like when they went to see the Backstreet Boys when we were younger. Luckily, I had the good sense not to care about them (Yes, I am bragging about that.) Not only did we get a sneak peek, but Frightened Rabbit started blaring through the speakers as filler immediately after Twin Atlantic was finished and the doors were opening.
Barely able to contain my excitement, I entered the main stage area, and nonchalantly leaned against the rail separating the alcohol from the minors….
From the murmurs in the crowd, I could tell that Twin Atlantic’s thick Glaswegian accents piqued the interest of at least half of the attendees. By the end of their first song, the crowd around the stage was growing exponentially, clearly intrigued. Semi-embarrassed about being the only person in my immediate vicinity who knew the words, I held back and remained to the rear of the auditorium.
Unfortunately for those around me, within the first cords of Yes, I Was Drunk, I was in full-blown screaming-along-at-the-top-of-my-lungs mode. Multiple show-goers asked me the name of the band, as clearly, I was the crazy chick who was probably following them around the U.S. in a creepy, windowless van.
The band proved to be better live that I had even expected. The heavy riffs and McTrusty’s throaty, sometimes primal, voice repeatedly hit notes that made the entire room vibrate.
Toward the end of the performance, lead singer, McTrusty, decided to dedicate a song, You’re Turning into John Wayne, to their tour mates; A move that was pretty damn ballsy as it does have some lines, when taken out of context, that can be misconstrued as the band absolutely hating Americans. Fortunately, nobody seemed to pick up on it. As we all know, you don’t insult a Philadelphian about their heritage.
The band closed out their set and proceeded backstage. Thoroughly happy and throat burning, I looked around. Union Transfer was experiencing an influx of confused-looking youngsters wearing “BLAME IT ON MY A.D.D.” t-shirts. **Clearly none of these teenagers have seen PCU, as they would all be classified as “that guy.” If it wasn’t for “those guys,” I probably would have stayed to experience this AWOLNATION thing. Alas, I had a brining turkey to babysit and a decent drive home on one of the biggest road-trip/drunk driver nights of the year.
I can proudly say I was lucky to see Twin Atlantic at their second show ever in our good city. Good show, guys and we look forward to your return!
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