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| At the top of the majestic dune, you can see some of the so called "dudes" who rocked Say Anything on theroad trip home. Photo: Owen Weber (www.owenweberlive.com) |
After one of the best camping trips of my life, I was
treated to a musical epiphany…Say Anything rocks!
It was a car ride. After a week camping in the beautiful
sands of Ludington, MI, a bunch of dudes threw on In Defense of the Genre, a bombastic double album from Los Angeles’
Say Anything. It was one of those moments when all the stars align and the
sonic landscape, matches perfectly with the outer landscape. Swirling trees and
whizzing Detroit born automobiles; feelings, surroundings and genuine affinity
for the “soundtrack of life” compounded together into the unfathomable movie
script ending to a cathartic outdoor weekend.
My buddy Kevin, one of life’s favorite spin-doctors, threw
it in and said something along the lines of “CHECK OUT THIS TASTY LICK!?!?!” My
life will never be the same. For some reason all the chord changes, silly song
endings, insanely honest-sounding song writing, ridiculous combinations of musical
styles from track to track resonated perfectly with how the weekend I never
wanted to end, came to an end. But, we had the roadtrip back, and we were going
to eat that shit up.
From that day forward (circa “that day-present”, Say
Anything became my most listened to band in my catalog, absolutely destroying
even the Foo Fighters and Taylor Hawkins in my Top Plays list on I-Tunes. Max
Bemis and company aren’t the most remarkable song makers in the world, but
there are a wide variety of idiosyncrasies for the senses, and it just happens
to cleanse the pallet with ease, time and time again. He has a knack for
finding a hook, blowing it up, twisting a bunch of knobs and finding that
perfect piece of art within the creation—taking what’s given to him and using
everything in his power, expanding internal expenditure without breaking the
bank.
The sharks aren’t jumped, but they are beaten with hand
whittled spears and who wouldn’t want to see that?
In March, Say Anything released Anarchy, My Dear their fourth studio album. Overall, I don’t like
it as much as their other releases, branding it as kind of a Say Anything light
beer offering, lacking some of the rawk I’ve come to crave from them, but
recognizing sometimes that’s a good change of pace. It compliments their
catalog well and is delicious, but not something I’ll crave for years to come.
So, many years later, I find myself in a position where I
haven’t seen my most listened to band live. Unacceptable.
The scene was much like when I was a kid and went to the
Warped Tour. I, at 30, was seemingly the oldest person at Best Buy Theater by a
good half decade. That’s all right, I’ve accepted my new concert role as
toe-tapping beer drinker in the back, who listens to the music and remembers
the day when concerts were more of a workout than a therapeutic disturbance
from the grind.
I was eternally impressed with the energy Max Bemis brings
to the stage, delivered with mental patient overzealousness, which was returned
to him like white lightning from the youthful exuberance of the audience. It
was like a tennis pro slinging serves and having them returned by Andre Agassi
circa 1997—NYC was kicking in the township rebellion. Yeah, what about that
sucker?
It seemed to make Bemis taken aback, causing him to gush
several times about how, “this was the best audience of the tour,” but did so
in a way that seemed genuine and spontaneous. I actually believed the most
played cliché in the book. He did it so many times I actually started to feel
bad for the guy, like he almost crossed the line of overthanking, like that of
a grassroots soup kitchen rewarding their volunteers. Thankyou-thankyou-thankyou-thankyou…come
again. At one point he even said, “we don’t deserve fans like you.”
Their catalog features many sing-a-long “Woahs” and screaming
backing chants. Many opportunities to let your voice heard as an audience, as
many as there can possibly be at a rock concert, with kids up front on many
occasions finding Bemis in their grill with the microphone awaiting your moment
to immortalize yourself on tape. You know, where you hog the intellectual
spotlight holding dominion over the whole, pointless concert? Yup. You had your
moment kids up front.
Lucky enough, these guys are just as fun from the back.
Right five-foot, 100-pound girl who insisted I hold her on my shoulders because
“So Good” is “like totally her favorite song and she just HAAAAS to be able to
see it!?” Her friends got enough pictures that, somewhere, I’m immortalized in
film.
Setlist:
Spidersong
Burn a Miracle
Shiksa (Girlfriend)
Hate Everyone
Belt
In Defense of the Genre
Wow, I Can Get Sexual Too
Say Anything
Eloise
Slumming it With Johnny
So Good
Every Man Has A Molly
The Church Channel
Property
A Walk Through Hell
Alive With the Glory of Love
Ahhh…Men
Admit It!!!
Admit It Again
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