We're on the road to Chicago. Though we've been in this region of the country for a while now, I still can't get over how beautiful fall is here. Forest after forest of glowing leaves. I stare at their tall, skinny trunks. I imagine myself running though.
We've had an interesting stretch of shows. It's felt strange to play to such varying crowd sizes. The dynamic between the audience and the performer is so symbiotic. You stand on the stage, and you're playing your songs, but so much of the experience relies on that crowd. And sometimes its difficult to remember that even within the sheepish audience, standing 10 feet away from us, there is someone who's driven hours to come hear us play. Dylan is good at reminding us to keep on our toes always for that guy, the one who's gone out of his way.
Some weird stuff has happened in the last few days. A drum circle of 30+ people played for over two and half hours in a back room during a whole night of shows. I signed a kid's neck brace. Someone helplessly unaware intoxicated guy came up to the stage after the show and asked me if I was fake singing during the set.
....
"Your vocals were mixed pretty low or else you're just really good at blending your voice with theirs. I mean, were you even actually singing?"
uh, wow.
I defended myself, smiling, and insisted that yes, Andrew our sound engineer is in fact a pro. And yes, of course I was singing. "I'll sing you something right now! Anything. Pick a song! I'll sing it."
"What songs do you know?"
"All of em," I said.
I think we're all looking forward to tonight's show. Back in a big city. We've got a few hours of unbelievably rare free time and we're hoping to spend it in a coffee shop, drinkin' some Intelligentsia, reading our books and things until the show at Schubas. Ah, a Sunday night in ol' Chicago.
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