"You Make Things That Are So Beautiful and Share Them With Yr Friends."
Ani Difranco Songs I Sang on the Way To The Ani Difranco Concert:
-"Going Down"
-"Angry Anymore"
-"Cradle and All"
-"Know Now Then"
-"Jukebox"
-"A Light of Some Kind"
-"Swing"
Tonight, we danced with Kimya Dawson at the Ani Difranco show. By "we" I mean Underthrust. By "Underthrust" I mean the all-star, anti-folk, DIY dance troupe that only rehearses while drinking beer and eating pizza (theoretically). Ani's crew was super friendly! They seemed excited to see us stretching in the wings. I guess when you're on the road all the time setting up the same show, it's refreshing to see a bunch of bouncy happy people wearing differently-colored laundry bags and superhero tights.
We did the same "I Like Giants" dance that we did at Webster Hall, and followed it up with an improvisational performance to "Rollercoaster," during which we took off our bags and ran around the stage waving them like flags. We also rolled around and did lots of lunges.
After Kimya's set, we were all jumping around backstage when Ani walked past us and smiled enthusiastically. I thought this was a very CLASSY way to both acknowledge/appreciate us AND avoid having to do the whole weird rockstar/fan conversation thing. I know I really dislike meeting my heroes. My experience of Ani Difranco was already COMPLETE. And fulfilling. Her music and attitude completely changed my life, focused my creative energy, and largely inspired my ventures as a folksinger. I've worked really hard to follow through on those impulses, and I think I've succeeded pretty modestly. So, at this point, I don't need any icing on this here cake. This cake is delicious. This cake is done. Ani smiles at me and my friends. We smile back. I'm a folksinger. Going on tour again in two weeks. With a copy of "Not a Pretty Girl" in my bag. Full circle. Amen. Glory. Praise. Sisterhood. Respect.
We watched Ani's set in full costume, in the middle of the theater. She played a beautiful show, but I felt less invested than I used to. I took mental notes. Tricks. Pacing strategies. Vocal embellishments. Banter navigation. It was a master class. From the real master. Dave and I tried to calculate how many shows she's played, ever. At least 5000? The ultimate. The sensei. The teacher on the hilltop. No?
We hung out for a few hours afterwards, in a tiny room where Beau told us stories about moving to NYC in the 60s, going to see performances by Merce Cunningham and John Cage. Panda picked some boogers. All was as it should be.
All of these things? Wonderful. But honestly. It paled in comparison to the first half of the day. Dibs turned 25, so I took him on a birthday adventure. We made breakfast. Went uptown. Experienced the life and work of Buckminster Fuller at the Whitney Museum, along with polaroids by Robert Mappelthorpe and killer architecture installations by Paul McCarthy (and by "killer," I mean they could literally murder you). It felt like the Whitney knew it was Dibs' birthday, and curated these exhibits just for him.
It feels good to realize that a friend is actually, in truth, in the greatest truth, family. It feels even better to realize this over and over and over and over again.
Moral of the day: Performances and Rockstars and Audiences and Dreams Come True are AMAZING. Best friends, however, are AMAZING SQUARED.
Awwwwwwwwwwwwww!
Much Love
Dan
-"Going Down"
-"Angry Anymore"
-"Cradle and All"
-"Know Now Then"
-"Jukebox"
-"A Light of Some Kind"
-"Swing"
Tonight, we danced with Kimya Dawson at the Ani Difranco show. By "we" I mean Underthrust. By "Underthrust" I mean the all-star, anti-folk, DIY dance troupe that only rehearses while drinking beer and eating pizza (theoretically). Ani's crew was super friendly! They seemed excited to see us stretching in the wings. I guess when you're on the road all the time setting up the same show, it's refreshing to see a bunch of bouncy happy people wearing differently-colored laundry bags and superhero tights.
We did the same "I Like Giants" dance that we did at Webster Hall, and followed it up with an improvisational performance to "Rollercoaster," during which we took off our bags and ran around the stage waving them like flags. We also rolled around and did lots of lunges.
After Kimya's set, we were all jumping around backstage when Ani walked past us and smiled enthusiastically. I thought this was a very CLASSY way to both acknowledge/appreciate us AND avoid having to do the whole weird rockstar/fan conversation thing. I know I really dislike meeting my heroes. My experience of Ani Difranco was already COMPLETE. And fulfilling. Her music and attitude completely changed my life, focused my creative energy, and largely inspired my ventures as a folksinger. I've worked really hard to follow through on those impulses, and I think I've succeeded pretty modestly. So, at this point, I don't need any icing on this here cake. This cake is delicious. This cake is done. Ani smiles at me and my friends. We smile back. I'm a folksinger. Going on tour again in two weeks. With a copy of "Not a Pretty Girl" in my bag. Full circle. Amen. Glory. Praise. Sisterhood. Respect.
We watched Ani's set in full costume, in the middle of the theater. She played a beautiful show, but I felt less invested than I used to. I took mental notes. Tricks. Pacing strategies. Vocal embellishments. Banter navigation. It was a master class. From the real master. Dave and I tried to calculate how many shows she's played, ever. At least 5000? The ultimate. The sensei. The teacher on the hilltop. No?
We hung out for a few hours afterwards, in a tiny room where Beau told us stories about moving to NYC in the 60s, going to see performances by Merce Cunningham and John Cage. Panda picked some boogers. All was as it should be.
All of these things? Wonderful. But honestly. It paled in comparison to the first half of the day. Dibs turned 25, so I took him on a birthday adventure. We made breakfast. Went uptown. Experienced the life and work of Buckminster Fuller at the Whitney Museum, along with polaroids by Robert Mappelthorpe and killer architecture installations by Paul McCarthy (and by "killer," I mean they could literally murder you). It felt like the Whitney knew it was Dibs' birthday, and curated these exhibits just for him.
It feels good to realize that a friend is actually, in truth, in the greatest truth, family. It feels even better to realize this over and over and over and over again.
Moral of the day: Performances and Rockstars and Audiences and Dreams Come True are AMAZING. Best friends, however, are AMAZING SQUARED.
Awwwwwwwwwwwwww!
Much Love
Dan
Tax Deductible Donations
Dan Fishback is a sponsored project of Fractured Atlas, a non-profit arts service organization. Contributions in behalf of Dan Fishback may be made payable to Fractured Atlas and are tax-deductible to the extent permitted by law.
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