Saturday, December 7, 2024

Until The Dark Time Ends (TOTR 483)


 

-originally aired on WTTU 88.5 FM The Nest on Saturday, December 7, 2024

-episode audio archive posted after the live show


Lynn & Will Rowan - Until The Dark Time Ends

Seth Mountain - The Solstice

We’re About 9 - Daylight Savings

Son Henry - Queen of the Pines

Brotherbrother - Waiting for the Snow to Fall

Willie Nininger & Mark Dann - On A Winter’s Night

Danny Barnes & Thee Old Codgers - All Alone For Christmas

Bones in the Walls - Green Grows The Holly

Otis Gibbs - Lookin’ Like A Hippie

The Fugitives - It’s Not Christmas

Frightened Rabbit - It’s Christmas So We’ll Stop

The Felice Brothers - The Dollar Store

FEET - Vegetarian Christmas

Dawes - Christmas Tree in the Window

Patti Casey - Spread Joy Over This Land

Amy MacClain - Peace Be With You

Psychic Temple - We Got to Have Peace

Darryl Purpose - The Perfect Revenge

Mutual Kumquat - Homeless

David Massengill & Margo Hennebach - Jesus, the Fugitive Prince

The Many, Flamy Grant, Kate Hurley, The Calendar Years - The Whole World Is Waiting

Hal Walker - Light at the End of the Tunnel

Pearl Jam - Setting Sun

Xavier Rudd - Storm Boy

Darrell Scott - Out Among The Stars HAIM - Hallelujah   


Thursday, November 28, 2024

A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock’n’roll, & Whole Lotta Parasocial Anxiety

 


A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock’n’roll, & Whole Lotta Parasocial Anxiety

I only learned the word “Parasocial” about a year ago. But it's been with me since my youth, when I felt intimate connections to President Carter, to the casts of Happy Days or Star Wars, to the players on the Cleveland Browns.

“Parasocial” refers to a connection between a person & someone they don't know, such as a celebrity or fictional character. In parasocial relationships, we fans consume content & reciprocate with strong feelings, of which the other person is usually unaware. This feels completely intense, as with religion, but totally lopsided, with one person investing adoring emotional energy & time, while the famous person is only generally aware of the connection with their fans. The celebrity tends to encourage this relationship as it feeds their celebrity status & their personal financial success. They do this especially by thanking fans profusely at public events, telling us that they love us. 

Given the power of this connection, it can be devastating when the object of the fan’s affection disappoints or betrays the more sensitive of fans. Collateral to this, fans in online forums can appear mean & cutting to other fans, as disagreements & misunderstandings emerge over minor or major topics. I have experienced this sense of betrayal, even crushing disappointment, with many musical artists that I follow. Admittedly, trying to apply or ascertain morality in an overtly rowdy & dirty milieu as so much popular music appears a silly & fraught project. Not trying to be Tipper Gore & the PMRC here. Not trying to create a woke/PC rubric for my fandoms.

As the internal struggles with this phenomenon in my fandoms is something I wear publicly, a close spiritual sibling suggested I check out the book Monsters: a fan's dilemma by Clare Dederer. The premise is too familiar, according to the blurb which promotes the book as a: “passionate, provocative, blisteringly smart interrogation of how we make and experience art in the age of cancel culture, and of the link between genius and monstrosity. Can we love the work of controversial classic and contemporary artists but dislike the artist?” While I have not read the book yet, I have listened to some podcast interviews with the author & so greatly appreciate her contribution to the larger conversation.

To be clear, I don’t believe in, much less have a stake in, so-called “cancel culture,” as it is commonly portrayed. What I know of it, it seems the misguided flailing of the defeated & confused, to deal with what are largely systemic sociological problems, with the public shaming of individuals. But it’s also acutely dangerous, as I have seen it weaponized on the farther left in tiny subcultures, to hurt fellow travelers, especially independent authors, artists, & musicians. 

That said, as many hours as I spend streaming music into the best headphones I could afford, I really don’t want to be streaming folks, no matter how good they are at their craft, who make my stomach turn & heart hurt. To be clear, these are more likely popular & well-known artists, with whom my relationship is purely parasocial, & I have had to walk away from closely following & listening to these folks. They won’t miss me.

As a fan of traditional & acoustic musical forms, I recently had a sort of epiphany, where it felt best abandoning the pretense that nicknames or subgenres like “Americana” or “roots” or “alt-country” would protect me from the stereotype of “country music,” especially the poison of mainstream country, at which I previously turned up my nose. So I allowed myself to listen to & fall in love with some up-&-coming & very popular country artists. Crashing into the 2024 election season, I have had the displeasure to notice & acknowledge that these artists are essentially part of the MAGA space & that the majority of their fans are definitely part of the MAGA base. 

With two separate artists that I love in the country genre, I experienced overtly MAGA fan behavior at their concerts that made me want to puke. Although I was never physically in danger, I felt so emotionally unsafe. With yet two other very popular country artists whose music I adore, I have seen their personal choices & affiliations so taint my ability to even enjoy them. 

I shouldn’t be shocked, but I am. I shouldn’t be so disappointed, but I am. I am adding names to a list of more indie-aligned artists that I no longer listen to or support whose egregious personal behavior led to consequences in the #metoo movement. Maybe I truly am an over sensitive snowflake, but here we are.

I don’t want to broadcast the names of the artists or the more specific nature of the incidents that upset me so. But my gut revulsion didn’t lie to me. Goodbye & good riddance.  

Now, I am drawing boundaries & making choices for myself, not for others. I surely won’t be consistent & will still listen to some more problematic artists (problematic to my values, that is), sometimes unknowing of their personal decisions or public statements on issues that I care about. 

In the coming months & years, I imagine we will all have far more serious concerns than whose music to listen to. Frankly, I think the entire “ethical consumerism” thing is a poor substitute to real solidarity & class consciousness. Listen to whom you want to listen to. There are no perfect performers. We can’t shop our way to the better society. Likewise, I certainly don’t plan to pre-emptively pass judgement on the majority of my neighbors & co-workers in my home region, which is a MAGA hotbed. 

Moreover, I believe much more in “calling in,” than “calling out.” But I want to call all of us into a beautiful world based on radical love, always inclusion, peace, earth-care, & economic justice.

While I previously had such a great appreciation for anti-authoritarian black/left/queer voices in folk, country, & Americana spaces, I expect to continually hone & amplify that love. As much as I aesthetically crave the lyrics-based poetics of acoustic & traditional music, my recent revulsion at right-wing gestures in the country music space have been matched with a wondrous remembering & return to the genius in punk & rock communities that align with my values. 

Music fandom is a huge part of my heart. As an amateur music critic & radio DJ, every artist I write about or whose songs I play on Teacher On The Radio, these are choices & choices I will continually make in conversation with my deepest held values going forward. 
-Andrew/Sunfrog, Tenasi/Cherokee land, winter holidays 2024

“So what are we to do with our problematic faves? History shows that any attempt to bend culture to the will of a rigid ideology is itself politically abominable (Mao, I’m looking at you). And yet we can’t absolve ourselves of the political and social consequences of problematic art (or, in my case at least, gum up our ears to its siren call). For me, the biggest lesson is that studying English literature at university is a recipe for misery. If this is being woke, I cry to dream again.”  - Ash Sarkar


Tuesday, November 26, 2024

How To Restore A Rock Fandom

 



How To Restore A Rock Fandom


Were we reeling from a national election where a questionable one-term president somehow got a second term? Was I ready for a break from perpetual protesting & writing about protesting? If the millions could not stop the endless wars & secret tortures by marching in the streets, what else was left?


Exactly twenty years ago today. It was a cold & cloudy November day, & I only had a short break from teaching. I drove from campus to the Sam Goody, next to the Walmart. They do root canals now, where the Sam Goody used to be. I bought the CD. I popped it in the car. I drove back to campus. That first listen was make or break. I told myself I was either falling back in love with U2 or I was done, forever. 


That first listen, I was hooked. I sat in my parked car on the gray day, completely mesmerized.


How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb would be on repeat forever, starting then. By 2005, I would be chasing the tour with cash I didn’t have, with time I couldn’t spare, & with a hunger that I could not satisfy. No matter how many U2 concerts this fan attends, I am always ready for the next one. 


I started a U2 blog. I joined the staff of a U2 fanzine. By the time of the follow-up to this, my “Moment of Surrender” to alcoholism & addiction coincided with a song by that name, & I would fall further in. I joined the burgeoning U2 studies academic community & would present at 3 conferences over the years, from North Carolina to Cleveland, Ohio, to Belfast, Northern Ireland.

The community I found in U2 studies & U2 fandom, overlapped with my sobriety journey, my academic career, & my sudden shift to a deeper spiritual religious journey, that took me to an academic theology journey & a brief second career as a mainline Christian pastor. When U2 finally played Nashville in 2018, a fellow U2 nerd & progressive Christian & I organized a one-day U2 conference, concert, & worship experience, with our dear friend Jonathan Martin. 


The pictures here are from my St. Louis trip in 2005, my fourth & final Vertigo concert, with my brother & sister-in-law, also a U2 scholar. The essay is my review of the San Jose, California show I saw in spring 2005. It first appeared on the aforementioned U2 fanzine. -Andrew, 11-22-2024
__

On tour throughout this year, with what's proving to be one of the most craved and desired tickets in rock 'n' roll, U2 cannot imagine a disappointed customer. The elegant and earnest combination of catalog-mining dedication and back-to-basics-inspiration that defined the Elevation shows returns without apology.

An inclusive invocation of spirituality and social justice transcends rather than tramples on the integrity of the experience. As Bono illustrated in a recent short interview with NME, the new Vertigo tour comes with the character the best U2 shows have almost always possessed. "At times it was a political rally, at times it was a gospel tent, at times it was a Las Vegas show,” he told the British music magazine.


From the confetti-drenched elation of the people screaming at the opening twinkles of "City of Blinding Lights" to the teary-eyed edification of 20.000 sharing an intimate refrain of the band's final, prayerful chorus of "40," the Vertigo tour is a triumphant moment of the arena-sized concert succeeding as serious performance art and redemptive rock 'n' roll.


As much as the venue and the crowd matter at a concert, the San Jose scene Saturday was lovely, with a warm and enthusiastic crowd. I cannot imagine a more Beautiful Day and night than this to see my first concert on the Vertigo Tour.


Early doubts and questions about Bono's tired throat chakra or his overall commitment to vocal delivery will hopefully wane. If this seventh show—two weeks into a tour that might last two years—has any hallmark quality to make it one memory among many, it's the frontman's fierce devotion to wed technical performance with soulful personality, to utter every nuance and transition with the rhetorical loyalty of a radio preacher, to nail every chorus and every verse as if this were the band's last night on stage.


Dedicated, traveling fans looking for wild and risky set list variation may feel disappointed; at least at this point in the tour, the switch-ups in song selection and sequence have dramatically settled down. The self-professed apostles of stage design may miss the experimental excess of previous projects. Fans for whom the concert experience depends on the band's compliance with a must-hear list of songs might find fault with the increasingly solid shape the set list on the first leg of Vertigo appears to be taking.

For the second San Jose show, of course, the band could launch a whole new set list, stripping this theory entirely. If a fan's distinction between a good and great show is irretrievably linked to its degree of spontaneity, there may be reason to quarrel with the organic and elegant flow this two hour set has developed.


As preachy as the self-appointed rock prophet can be, Bono's sermons tonight are shockingly sparse and almost painfully precise. But in his moments of ethereal ebullience and churchy evocation, the "insufferable little Jesus" is actually his most modest. The most elaborate homily came in the lucid build-up to "Miracle Drug." Pontificating about the pontiff, Bono confesses his own "pope complex" while describing his encounters with the hip old patriarch. Since we all know how the deceased father advocated global solidarity with the poor, Bono spends more of this dedication paying tribute to the man's deep and piercing eyes.


While the white flag represented the unequivocal refusal of all nationalism, Bono's current litany embraces an almost utopian global unity. While this message remains as moving and motivated as it is carefully choreographed during the Africa encore sequence of "Pride," "Where the Streets Have No Name" and "One," Bono complicates and challenges easy answers during the battle drums and ballistic guitars of "Love and Peace or Else," "Sunday Bloody Sunday" and "Bullet the Blue Sky."


"Bullet" is perfect example of the post-ideological tightrope Bono dances on. Over the years, this reliable crowd-pleaser has evolved from a vicious critique of US intervention in Central America to a more nuanced statement about the cost of American foreign policy. At times, it's been about other topics altogether. Often the piece can be read as more about the religious nature of American conflict, with an almost pharmaceutical dose of Jimi Hendrix-esque guitar that reflects a tortured but still-present patriotism.

This time, the tune has taken on a whole new aura: the final sequence, once an angry and haunting recitation about a preacher peeling off dollar bills has been transformed into a hymn that includes a somber "When Johnny Comes Marching Home," some of the most wickedly metalesque Edge guitar ever and a few lines from "The Hands That Built America."


Some in the old-school set might miss the younger, brasher Bono's biting the hands that feed him in deliriously dadaesque defiance of politicians and politics as usual. Especially for those fans with political leanings to the left of John Kerry, the newer, shrewder singer as pragmatic negotiator and power-broker might come off a little lukewarm. But in his current phase of nonpartisan passion, this refusal to pledge allegiance to the left or right actually carves a space for more sustainable moments of meditation. While a favorite point of the band's harsher critics, these self-conscious contradictions have become an expected facet of Bonoism.


But without fail, from Edge's howling and moaning rock-god solos to Bono's exaggerated gestures and Christ-like POW poses to Larry's pounding, pulsing, puncturing percussion to Adam's understated ability to keep the sound on the ground even as it soars outer stratospheres, the emotional center of this show remains connected to the riveting heart of all great arena rock.


After "Bullet the Blue Sky," the band reclaims the old-school transition into "Running to Stand Still" which fades into an almost heart-breaking series of Bono's "hallelujahs." Just when the show looks like it's turning into a welcome but sober late 1980s revival, the band immediately follows the universal Declaration of Human Rights statement with the fierce and Euro-funky early 1990s trilogy of "Zoo Station," "The Fly" and "Mysterious Ways."


After a long and beautiful dance with an overjoyed fan and without a break, the band leaves its most hedonistic and secular segment of the show for the three songs ("Pride," "Streets," "One”) that Bono uses to define what he believes is the defining question of our time—what will this generation do about global AIDS and extreme poverty?

While communal text-messaging for the sick and starving at an upscale rock concert can come off as a tad much, even to those most sympathetic, Bono before "One" is his most painfully sincere rhetorical salesmen, asking those in the crowd with cell phones to dial in on behalf of The One Campaign. It's hard not to believe every word. Even as this one phone call might be the most activist gesture some of these fans ever make, it's one that might actually save lives. While those following this tour closely will notice how much this part of the show relies on a rehearsed formula, its musical integrity surpasses the intrinsic shortcomings of the cell-phone gimmick. And this emotional section is only getting us ready for the even more sentimental encore.


Through the late 1990s, the once holy band wandered though the global shopping mall of fashion and sex and flirted with getting jaded and detached through decadent industrial music. But when the band went on tour to places like Sarajevo, Tel Aviv and Mexico City, the hope and sincerity seeped through. And to the emotional pleasure and moral satisfaction of the band's most devoted fans, U2's released its most overtly religious album since "The Joshua Tree."


Years ago, Paul McGuinness and other handlers of the band's image guaranteed that these wide-eyed evangelicals avoided the Christian rock pigeonhole like the plague. Such a worry wouldn't make sense to this latter day U2. So, from an open stage, the four men all dressed in black close the show in the manner of traveling apostles as they transform a cavernous arena into a cozy revival tent. The final trilogy combines two recent songs with one that's more than 20 years old. The punk hymn "All Because Of You" prepares the way for an acoustic "Yahweh" and the standard coda of the old school, simply called "40."


Although I'd experienced this enchanting ritual with thousands before on both the Unforgettable Fire and Joshua Tree tours, the first time I grappled with the sentimental gravity of "40"as a show closer was watching the video from "Under a Blood Red Sky." Around that time (it was probably still 1983) I read an article in Rolling Stone where Bono compared the band to The Beatles and The Who. The cynics saw Bono's now-trademark pomposity but laughed off the claim.


Today U2 stands alone, having long since left behind its peers in the 1980s new rock revolution. In fitting tribute to those bold ambitious comparisons, Bono channels those whose crown he's stolen, with delicious snippets of "Blackbird" during "Beautiful Day" and "I Can See for Miles and Miles" at the end of "Electric Co.”


U2 has revived the big music of arena rock from numerous near-death experiences. Perhaps that's too much for one man, perhaps this is too much for one band, but U2 seems up for the challenge of keeping it real and keeping it human, a fact exemplified again and again by Bono's accessible and down-to-earth demeanor that can be see when he's chatting up his fans who gather outside each venue early, hoping to get a glimpse of the band.

If the world of pop music is a kind of musical polity, it's a place where Bono is unashamedly pope, president, and king. Yet because of U2's unrelenting loyalty to the fans, and the enduring grace and power of the music itself, it's a society we're still willing to pay to be citizens of, if only for one (or, maybe, more) night every four years.



Saturday, November 23, 2024

Days Outside Of Time (TOTR 482)


 [image curated by Teacher On The Radio in Adobe Firefly]

-originally aired on WTTU 88.5 FM The Nest on Saturday, November 23, 2024
-episode audio archive posted after the live show

Shovel Dance Collective - O’ Sullivan’s March
The Wilderness Yet - Cocks Are Crowing
The Riverside - Cloak of the Sun
The Duke of Norfolk - Golden Light & Thistle
Harbottle and Jonas - I Am The Captain Of My Soul
Stick in the Wheel - Can’t Stop
Futurebirds - Burnout
Luke Brindley - Good Love/Hard Times
Dalchord - This Damn Town
Ben Sollee - Hawk & Crows
Willie Watson - Sad Song
Evan Honer - Mr. Meyers
Megan Brickwood - Nothing New
Madeline Hawthorne - Missing You
Madi Diaz - God Person
Chase & Sierra Eagleson - Dream Weaver
Julie Vallimont - Carry Me Over
Mean Mary - Bring Down The Rain
Luke Spehar - The Farmer
The Wilderness of Manitoba - The Great Hall
B. Snipes - My Mountain Home
Wilder Adkins - Feeling Small
Dry The River - Bible Belt
We/Or/Me - Days Outside of Time
The Hillbilly Thomists - When We All Get Together
John Van Deusen - All Shall Be Well 

Saturday, November 16, 2024

You Gotta Sin To Be Saved - A Maria McKee Retrospective (TOTR 481)

 



-image from This Is Maria McKee on Instagram

-originally aired on WTTU 88.5 FM The Nest on Saturday, November 16, 2024

-includes an interview with Maria McKee on the occasion of the album Viva Lone Justice, new/old/vault/field recordings, released on October 25, 2024, recorded by video call on November 6, 2024. -listen to the audio archive HERE. 2024 - Viva Lone Justice

You Possess Me

Rattlesnake Mama

Skull & Cross Bones

1989 - Maria McKee -self titled

This Property Is Condemned

Panic Beach

1993 - You Gotta Sin To Get Saved

My Girlhood Among The Outlaws
2020 - La Vita Nuova

Page of Cups

Just Want To Know If You’re Alright

2005 - Peddlin Dreams

People In The Way 

Barstool Blues

Season of the Fair

2007 - Late December

One Eye On The Sky (One On The Grave)
Shelter (Live)

1986 - Shelter (as Lone Justice)

Wheels

Dixie Storms

1993 - You Gotta Sin To Get Saved

You Gotta Sin To Get Saved

1985 -Lone Justice self-titled

Don’t Toss Us Away

Soap, Soup And Salvation

1989 - Maria McKee -self titled

Drinking In My Sunday Dress

2024 - Viva Lone Justice

Wade In The Water

2016 - Various - God Don’t Never Change - The Songs of Blind Willie Johnson 

Let Your Light Shine On Me


Saturday, November 9, 2024

Sadness As A Gift (TOTR 480)

 


-originally aired on WTTU 88.5 FM The Nest on Saturday, November 9, 2024

-Listen to the archive here: Stream episode Sadness As A Gift - TOTR 480 by Teacher On The Radio podcast | Listen online for free on SoundCloud

Adrianne Lenker - Sadness As A Gift

Phoebe Bridgers - Garden Song

boygenius - Souvenir

Madi Diaz - Obsessive Thoughts

Mortimer Nyx - This is the End

R.E.M. - Find The River

Pearl Jam - Footsteps

Nirvana - Something In The Way

Chris Cornell - Before We Disappear

Radiohead - How To Disappear Completely

Frightened Rabbit - The Loneliness and the Scream

The National - This is the Last Time

Taylor Swift & Bon Iver - exile

Bon Iver - 22

Magnolia Electric Co. - Hammer Down

Silver Jews - I Remember Me

Sufjan Stevens - Death with Dignity

Iron & Wine - Passing Afternoon

Nick Drake - Pink Moon

Elliott Smith - Between the Bars

Big Star - Thirteen

Ray LaMontagne - Burn 

Watchhouse - Golden Embers

Death Cab For Cutie - A Lack of Color

Father John Misty - When the God of Love Returns There’ll be Hell To Pay
Liv Green - I Can Be Grateful

Tuesday, November 5, 2024

She’s Not Like Other Girls: Getting down & getting-out-the-vote with Bertha, Nashville’s fabulous Grateful Drag band!!

 







“Wave that flag, wave it wide and high./Summertime done, come and gone, my, oh, my.”
-Grateful Dead, “U.S. Blues”

I had no idea how much I needed Bertha’s Grateful Drag “get out the vote” get-down, this past Saturday at the Basement East in Nashville. It was a musical rally welcomed by the flowery fringe of one of the most progressive neighborhoods in this otherwise wildly & sadly right-wing red-state.

To add to my anxiety & apprehension about the imminent presidential election, on Saturday, a cloud of grief suddenly shrouded my profession. I work in higher education, & this past week, four different Tennessee universities had seen four specific tragedies of death by suicide, including in Cookeville where I live & work. I had been on campus launching my weekly episode of Teacher On The Radio, in too close physical proximity to the place & time of our tragedy, & at the time, I didn’t even know what was going down. At my alma mater MTSU earlier in the week, a trans & queer student leader Serenity Birdsong died by suicide in the university library. 

Given all this & more, getting to Nashville was mental medicine & needed distraction. At times of such strange & surreal sadness, I recall how the grief of the poet Rumi fueled so much fierce love verse. Rumi’s grief at losing his dear friend also fed his need to spin, to twirl, to dervish dance for literally hours on end. I have always likened this story in my heart to the Deadhead spinning tradition. So even on a packed venue floor, so close to the stage, I could shimmy & shake & spin, shaking off the mental health worries with full-body self-care. I brought all my grief, so much anxiety, but also so much dogged hope & determination to this iteration of Bertha, whose Nashville-based benefits for queer organizations, & to defy legalistic drag bans, have blown-up into a movement & a moment, even taking Nashville’s sweet secret on the road, to festivals & venues around the world.

From the first note, just after 8pm, until the end of the second set, when we sadly left, but with full hearts, just before the encore, at around 11pm, it was a dazzling & delicious dance into the Grateful Dead multiverse. An added anticipation for me was the convergence of worlds I have known for a long time colliding. For tonight’s show, Cannon County’s EGGPLANT Faerie Players were joining Bertha for some second set performance art. We’ve always known that “getting on the bus” was also like “joining the circus,” & well this time, thanks to Tom Foolery & Maxzine Cuisine, the circus arts were in full force, especially in the drippy trippy parts of the second set, when the goofy smiles on melted faces were entertained by EGGPLANT’s signature juggling antics & more. The rural queer arts of the “gayborhood” of which Maxzine & Tom have participated in for decades are a little known part of Tennessee culture that defy the stereotypes about what life is really like in the backwoods & down the backroads of the hills & hollers here . 

Not only did the second set include all those EGGPLANT shenanigans, but it also included “Box of Rain,” as a nod to the recently deceased & original Grateful Dead member Phil Lesh. All those good things & a simply smoking setlist overall, were not all, though, with the early-November-specific activist-themes of the night hitting hardest. First, there were the wonderful motivational speeches spiced throughout the show from various activists. Then, during a sizzling late-set “Man Smart, Woman Smarter,” it turned into a full blown election rally, with a first-female president on everyone’s mind. Keep in mind, all the Berthas’ costumes were mostly-fashioned on the election-year “U.S. Blues” theme, as the Dead always brought their own weird brand of merry-prankster hippy-patriotism, & nothing like Grateful Drag queens to represent this at the star-spangly best. 

ow those that know me know, the last thing they expect of Sunfrog is any form of rah-rah patriotism, but the joyful enthusiasm of this event brought it & in an entirely different way. So the band had passed out little American flags & rainbow flags, & by the climax of the second set, we were all waving them as we danced together. It was downright healing & hopeful, killing if only momentarily, so much doubt & cynicism. We were one voice for the better, least-harmful path forward. So Sunfrog & everyone else were waving those flags & waving them high, me-oh-my!

I have been attending Grateful Dead shows, Dead tribute shows, & Dead spinoff shows, such as Dead & Company, for some 37 years. Now to be clear, I am not even close to the most devout Deadhead that I know, but I am a Deadhead. From all those many, many experiences, I must say that I think that Bertha/Grateful Drag are bringing the most joyful, most specifically countercultural, most energetic version of this musical canon that I have ever had the pleasure to experience. This was my third Bertha show, & they have all been this good. The colors & costumes are such a feast for the eyes, the music is magically faithful to the tradition, while taking it to new places, & the embrace of comedy & LGBTQ positivity & empowerment are all simply on-point & stunning. Comparisons are silly, but this is probably the most unchecked fun & pure joy I have ever had at a Dead or Dead-adjacent show. 

Andrew/Sunfrog
4 November 2024