In-Stores and Panic Attacks

A Music Downloader Repents

Full disclosure: I haven’t purchased a compact disc, vinyl album, cassette tape or Cassingle in over two years. My rather frowned-upon method of acquiring music (don’t talk to me about iTunes; I like to download my music the old fashioned way—illegally) has had two consequences: one, an unfounded paranoia that everyone I meet is actually a merciless RIAA goon; and two, every time I walk into a decent, independent record store I’ll be brutally stabbed in the right hand with a rusty car key (don’t ask).

So what better way to soothe my nerves than by attending two in-store performances at Atomic Records? I soon decide the overriding point of this exercise will be to make at least one purchase at each event, thus paying a small amount of penance for my heathen-downloading ways, as well as fooling myself into believing I have enough disposable income to blow on two CDs.

AqualungLive at Atomic Records“You must be… the record store?” So queries Matt Hales, the frightfully young-looking lead singer and pianist of Aqualung. He quickly admits that the concept of playing an in-store for 25 people is a bit new to him, and that he “rather expected it to be like playing for a couple of nerds in a shopping mall.” All this delivered in a British accent. The ladies begin to swoon.

Yes, Aqualung is another in a long line of Coldplay worshippers, and yes, this particular sub-genre of music ranks somewhere near oral surgery on my list of enjoyable pastimes, but damn if the kid can’t sing. His overall demeanor also seems remarkably genuine: awkward, shy and self-deprecating. No particular song seems to jump out, but a girl in front of me is breathlessly singing along to every one, and eventually works up enough nerve to make a request. It’s the single, of course (“Brighter than Sunshine”), and its simple, delicate lyrics quickly turn an otherwise normal record store patron into a blubbering mass of jelly.

Slowly, the unnerving feeling that I should be making out with someone in a dorm room starts to creep over me. I start to sweat. Aqualung’s set is almost over but I’ve had enough; for some reason or other, I’m panicking. I leap out on to Locust Street like a madman, the sound of an electric piano and muffled applause at my back.

Purchases made: None. I end up blowing my last 10 bucks on a gyro and a pack of smokes.

Tegan and Sara(also) Live at Atomic RecordsUnlike Aqualung, the Tegan and Sara in-store is packed; my girlfriend and I are among the last to be let in. A crowd this size brings out two pet peeves I have about intimate, acoustic shows: a band that thinks it’s interesting to spend half their time recounting some wacky tour anecdotes (in this case, something about Robitussin and door hinges), and the fact that out of a crowd that’s 90 percent women, I get stuck behind a 50 year-old guy who seems to know the songs of two 20-something, indie-rock sisters a little too well. Between the interminable chitchat, however, the songs are pretty solid, and their peculiar voices harmonize in a way that suggests what Neil Young and Katharine Hepburn would sound like if they were sisters and started a band. They’re even cuter than I expected, though their mullet-shag haircuts – so criminally popular these days – still manage to chill my bones. Tossed into their set is the new single, “Walking With a Ghost,” a little ditty that will proceed to burrow its way into my head like a Kenny Loggins song, and refuse to leave for the next 12 hours or so. Purchases: Oh, why not? I pick up the new Tegan and Sara CD, So Jealous, along with a Hüsker Dü album to even things out.  Later, I head downtown to Turner Hall for the 3rd annual Funtup Film & Art Festival. My girlfriend and I watch a few films, listen to a few bands and buy some art (a fork bent into the shape of a grasshopper). We leave at 9 p.m., sunlight still leaking through the sky, summer looming like a threat.  VS

Matt Wild is ¼ of the rock and roll band Holy Mary Motor Club.