I am weary. The physical strains of what I call employment these days takes it’s toll on the aging body. Sleep is most welcome all of the time, and I find leisure time spent in a sort of haze. A far cry better than the mental strain of careers past, I still feel as though I am 100% lazy in my non working hours. This distresses me to a point, and I can no longer chalk it up to Mercury being in retrograde. There are folks that are passionate about many things, helping others, children, gardening, animals, boozing. The list is endless. I consider myself a fairly passionless person to an extent, the senses dulled so much over the course of many years to avoid the disappointment. However, there is one thing for which I still have an unbridled joy for, Mono from Japan. Luck would have it they were playing the Magic Stick on Sunday, unlucky, I generally work on Sunday nights. Shifts were traded, arrangements made, my schedule cleared and as empty as my head is currently. Off to the Stick did I go.
In general I am not a fan of the Majestic Complex, it’s suits a purpose for sure, but it is, was and always has been rife with youngsters and a vibe that isn’t conducive to feeling the love. The shape of the Stick is cold for band viewing, and during most shows, the din of the revelers can be heard over the band, which is a classic Detroit show viewing method and perhaps one of the many reasons traveling acts choose our fair city as a stop less and less. Thankfully the deck was open and with a friendly face behind the bar, I bellied up as the opener was mid set. The air was warm and smoke free, a new Michigan law which I am enjoying to the fullest. I was feeling so anticipatory that a double Ketel Soda was procured and we were off to the races. Half done, I did not turn down the Jager Bomb that was offered, that too went down curiously smooth. Then it was time for Mono to play so I wandered in and took an assessment of the crowd. Oh, but were they young, it was an all ages show. Instead of the general disdain I offer those that could be my biological children, I opted to be pleased that those so young can tap into the goodness that is Mono. Part of me wonders what kids of that age find interesting, what resonates with them? Later a college friend reminded me of the lilting darkness in the music we listened to at that age, Dead Can Dance, This Mortal Coil, it all triggers the same brain spots no doubt. The kids at the show were a well behaved lot. Most wearing the same style of glasses which was of interest. Couples too, both wearing the same glasses – is that how they find each other? There were perhaps two or three people my own age there, also interesting, as the Johann show a few weeks before in Chicago had warranted a great many more my own age, save for the young Adonis sitting next to me.
A track played to entice the crowd (is 35 a crowd?) towards the front, and they stood there patiently and reverently waiting for Mono to take the stage. They did, to little fanfare and got to doing what they do best, creating an aural environment that evokes at once all the passion and drama that modern man has lost track of in his quest for ironic perfection. The interplay of guitars was fascinating to watch between Yoda and Goto both seated. It got me thinking about how long I had liked music like this, and I could distinctly remember a friend sending me a cassette, yes, a cassette of his band back in the day. It was atmospheric and lovely, and I would slip outside at a particularly stressful place of employment and listen to one song over and over, to calm me before going back in to the random tirades of an angry boss. Perhaps it started even earlier as I have recently spent time with a childhood friend who described her daughter as ‘into music, like you’. Curious the things you are remembered for. I would have thought it my fresh comic timing which was alive and well even in the fourth grade as my Halloween costume that year was of a fat jogger. Music and comic histories aside, once you start down the path of the dark melody, you’ve nowhere to go but further, it just is.
The show continued on, each song more beautifully dramatic than the last. A reminder that I can still feel, that I am not dead as I had once believed. Life is a curious thing, each day making you older than the next physically, and perhaps smarter than the last mentally. But one never catches up with the other, it is funny and cruel at the same time. But today, I am not talking about life but Mono. They played and played, it was great not to have a shortened set based on crowd size. Then they finished and came out again and played some more. It was magnificent, and a reminder that the things you hold hostage from the world, other people feel. The show was glorious, and many times I found my eyes damp from the emotion of it all. There is nothing better than watching a band that moves something in you to feel anything at all especially in this modern day where everything has to be ‘recorded’ as opposed to lived. Sure, the kids had their cell phone cameras out, but most stood rapt as the band played. It’s nice to see a band pull off audio perfection with a tight, well practiced set. Also nice that they played a good long time, well worth whatever was asked at the door on their behalf. When it ended I felt calmer than I have been in many months, the great war within put to rest for an hour or two. I headed over to the merch table to procure their live LP, I opted for the red vinyl over the blue and odd choice as I prefer the color blue hands down. It has made for great listening on my ill gotten turntable. As a matter of fact, I am listening to it now – two Sundays later as I finish the thought started that night. Better late than never I suppose.
