Friday, July 29, 2011
"Elvis Costello At The Hi-Tone" : THE WEEKEND MIX
I have a long story, with lots of twists and turns, comedy and tragedy, food poisoning and airplane trouble, bus crashes and robbery. (Well, I feel like I was robbed.) What I'm giving you here is the final product; an audio rip of the "Elvis Costello & The Imposters: Live from The Hi-Tone Cafe" DVD.
And so it goes....
I was invited to Memphis by a semi-regular customer and major label connection of my old retail haunt. I always enjoyed talking shop with him, but I found his generosity to be a tad uncomfortable at times, with concert tickets, rare videos and vinyl, and just about anything he had that I seemed to take an interest in, offered my way. I honestly don't think he was anything but kind, but still, I refused all of it, except the following.
The invite was to not only attend, as a guest, a private show in a small club by Elvis Costello with special guest Emmylou Harris which was being filmed by the friend of this friend, but to also "work" with some people at Sun Studios, where my "expertise" was needed to sift through archives that would help in the completion of a documentary he was making about Scotty Moore and DJ Fontana. (Elvis Presley's rhythm section.) I couldn't say no. Hell, how many times have you been asked for YOUR expertise?
I was promised amazing BBQ and amazing music. And THAT...was enough.
Over a 28 hour span, I made it to Memphis and back, spent a total of $1200* in airfare and accomodations, none of which was ever paid back, had to wait on a line for 2 hours and then pay to see Elvis---only the first set---was left alone to eat BBQ because my friend came down with food poisoning**, was told there was "no room in the car to Sun Studios" and that I would get "picked up later for dinner***," got into an accident on the bus to the airport home, hit some turbulence on the way back to NYC that was so bad, the frightened woman next to me, who weighed 600 pounds if she weighed a pound and sat in two and two thirds of the three seats in my row, (God bless her), dug her giant Nick Buoniconti hands into my thigh that was already mostly crushed and covered by her overlap, so deep, for days after my leg looked as if I was mauled by an ocelot.
If anyone owns the DVD, you will see me a number of times. I am wearing a James Booker t-shirt, pressed again the front of the stage, gasping for air, wiping my brow, and looking quite miserable.
ENJOY THE MUSIC.
It's a fantastic show.
(Some of the songs were bonus tracks, so I tried my best to insert them at the appropriate places in the set. But, seeing as how I had a neo-stroke that evening, I won't vouch for my memory.)
Waiting For The End Of The World
Button Your Lip
Blame It On Cain
Either Side Of The Same Town
Monkey To Man
The Monkey (Speaks His Mind)
I Still Miss Someone
My Baby's Gone
The Delivery Man
There's A Story In Your Voice
Peace, Love & Understanding
Pump It Up
*I changed my flight once I found out I was abandoned by all involved. Penalties suck.
**It turned out that it wasn't food poisoning, but something far more serious. I found out just recently from one of those friends of that friend, that he overcame his illness, but apparently had fucked over a few other people, as well.
***This dinner was also supposed to include DJ Fontana and Jim Dickinson. (Never happened.)