Nothing Says I Love You Like an Allman Brother
Being a hopeless romantic, I decided to make this year’s Valentine’s Day a spur-of-the-moment kind of holiday. By which I mean, Passion was fully booked up and OpenTable.com wasn’t cooperating with my last-minute scrambling.
When my attempted breakfast in bed, of chocolate chip pancakes and bacon, was met with a meager appetite and stifled yawns, it became quickly apparent that dinner at Smoke’s or Cereality might not be the ironic evening encore I’d originally planned. In a last-ditch effort at originality, I hit upon the website for World Cafe Live, the live-music space in WXPN’s new building. As luck would have it, they were hosting a Valentine’s Day “Jam Lover’s Fest” with none other than Oteil Burbridge. What’s that, you say? Oteil who? Oteil Burbridge, formerly of the Allman Brother’s band, of course. You know, the bassist. Awww jeah.
It took about five minutes of hearing Oteil jam, later that night, before I realized, Christ, I hate the Allman Brothers! I hate jam bands even more! What was I thinking? I started having horrible flashbacks to a New Year’s Eve Phish concert that I went to back in college, where the band would rhyme nonsensically and riff for 45 minutes on one song (no joke). Oteil wasn’t that bad, but still, a five-minute bass guitar jam feels like an eternity when all you really want to hear is “Freebird.”
Fortunately for Ana and me, everything else about our trip to the WXPN building was well worth the five-minute drive. The comfort food at the joint was de-lish; the renovated Hajoca building was decked out in mahogany paneling and funky, colorful decor; and the warm-up act, The Blue Method, was kinda catchy. I still don’t understand why, during one of their solo instrument jams, Ana felt the need to declare the saxophonist dead sexy. But this was more than made up for by the moo-moo wearing lead singer, a fella named Brian Williams. In addition to making Ruban Studard look like a toothpick, Willimas brought tears to my eyes as he sang gloriously, reached deep into his soul for the lyrics, paused briefly to hock a loogie, and then played the trumpet.
In some ways, I felt that World Cafe Live could still use a little Trading Spaces action. The tables and chairs in the Downstairs performing space, where we were, seemed like the kind you’d find in a high school cafeteria — cheap Formica and aluminum. But besides some minor decorating quibbles, I thought the space had phenomenal potential. I know Philly has plenty of live-music dinner joints, with Warmdaddy’s, Zanzibar Blue, Ortleibs, and Tritone already scattered around town. But let’s be honest: In these joints it’s often difficult to see the band, and the acoustics are downright fugly. The XPN building has the only stage large enough for a band to actually shake their bootie, as well as an amphitheater that’s actually designed for music listening. What more can you ask of a former plumbing supply warehouse?
Hopefully World Cafe Live will start drawing some decent talent soon (the only name I recognized in the next month was Edwin McCain, who I think may have played cowbell for Blue Oyster Cult). But even if they don’t draw the John Legends of the world I’ll probably head back soon anyway. The “Sunday Gospel Brunch” sounds too good to pass up.
Technorati Tags: Philadelphia, Live Music, WXPN
Sounds like a good recovery with the last minute musical event, Ted.
It can’t top my gift — an i.o.u. for a $400 vacuum cleaner which we can’t afford. I think you run out of ideas on year eight. I did get a handmade card and the cats made one too, so that was nice.
Well, you’re off the hook for another 364 days.
I soooo, soooo wanted the Dyson ANIMAL to be my Valentine’s Day gift, but, alas, we already gave that up as a suggestion to my sister. The family is still trolling for suggestions for belated wedding gift.
Wish I’d thought of the Roomba over the weekend. That would have been sa-weet! Much better than the zero-creativity jewelry I picked up at Tiffany. What is it about that place, by the way? No matter what the gift, no matter how random or impractical, those powder blue bags never fail to get women all frothy-mouthed and blubbery. I don’t get it. But then, I won’t question it either. Until I start learning to make homemade cards, the jewelry store will remain my get-out-of-jail-free card.
Yeah Freebird! Good call on the last minute concert… music tames the wild beast after all. What’s wrong with the Allman Brothers? I mean, Jessica is the greatest song to speed down the highway to. Oh, and as far as sex-a-ma-phone players, yeah, we’re all smexy.
Ah, Valentine’s Day: for a woman, the worst day of the year to be single; for a guy, by far the best.
But yeah, even the sub-$100 (if I remember correctly) silver bracelets will keep your head above the quicksand, as long as they come in that powder-blue box.
can someone get the memo out to my husband — i never got nothin’ in no powder blue box.
In my opinion, Tastykakes should count. The box isn’t exactly powder blue, but sky blue is close enough.
Well, Gwynne, as far as I’m concerned the powder blue box is really to compensate for being distant and emotionally undemonstrative. The equation goes something like this: (Powder blue box) + (showing only vague irritation when your girlfriend cries) = 0. This may not apply to Mr. Gwynne or Mr. Ana, so that may explain the lack of so-colored boxes at gift-giving time.
The sky-blue box probably doesn’t work so well.