Four Boys, Four Weeks, Four Shows pt. 2

Mumford & Sons (and The Middle East) Live

When I left you in Columbus, I was still hungover. This time, I wanted to take time to let the dust settle before I reviewed my last two shows. After the amazing show in Columbus, I headed home to Cincinnati and went to work on Sunday. All the while, I contemplated my options. The show at Lincoln Hall in Chicago was completely sold out and had been for weeks. I was told, though, that I might be able to get on the venue's list. As of Monday morning, I wasn't on any lists. I was desperate, though, so I struck out anyway.

I scooped up my best friend from a Chicago suburb and we fought the traffic into town. I think we may have illegally parked in a hospital's parking garage, but no tickets were found, so I feel okay about it. We got there early and still weren't on the list, but I was only slightly concerned. The good news about having my best friend with me was that she is the least shy person I know. If anyone could get us into that concert, it would be her. Or so I thought.


As it turned out, after an hour or so of asking absolutely everyone if they had an extra ticket, I got us into the show using my own wits and charm. I'll never tell you how. It's top secret. But I will say this-I didn't go through the same door as everyone else. That aside, I can also say that several people who still didn't have tickets twenty minutes before the show managed to find us inside, excited they'd got in. Note to All: Get there early, lie about where you're from, and buy food. I'm sure you'll get in with the rest of them.

The venue itself was less than impressive. Honestly, I feel bad saying so. I've heard they recently did an overhaul that may have included getting the place air conditioned. The stage was tiny and cramped, especially for The (seven-member) Middle East, who like to romp and traipse around on stage. Also disconcerting was the waitresses wandering through the crowd during the show taking drink orders. At one point I looked from one side of the stage to the other and found the flat side of a tray in my face, completely blocking my view. Plus, the crowd was just a bunch of drunk people who were barely attentive during The Middle East. That alone made Chicago my least favorite show.

In pure M&S fashion, the boys still hammered it out. They'd had the day before off and had went sailing and they used those experiences to butter up the crowd with compliments on the city. After the aforementioned sucking up period, they played an awesome set that, sound and heart-wise, was perfect. One of the best things to see at the previous concerts was when front man, Marcus Mumford, plays drums for the rousing, "Dust Bowl Dance." At the very end, he gets up and dashes around from behind the drum set. Back at the mic, he picks up his guitar, strums out a few last chords and softly sings the last few lines of the song. Due to the confines of the stage, he was unable to do that. The crowd, made up almost entirely of first-timers, had no idea what they were missing. They roared with approval. But I knew, and I think the band was disappointed, too. With the close-quarters, it lacked the same energy. Personally, Chicago will be memorable because of my entrance into the show and the company I kept. As a concert-goer, though, this was far from my favorite show.

Next up was supposed to be Bonnaroo. I feel like I've talked this one into the ground and I don't want AudioDaughter to become a place of negativity. I'll say only this: I was tired and delirious. I didn't quite make it. AudioDaughter doesn't believe in regrets, but if she did-Missing Bonnaroo would still be quite low on the list.

Instead, the day after Bonnaroo, I met back up with my new concert buddies, and my favorite band in the very tiny town of Bloomington, Indiana. Here's what I knew of Bloomington before I left: That's where Mumford and Sons was playing on Monday night. Oh, fine. I'd also been told that IU was there and that, apparently, IU was considered a "public ivey." I'm still only vaguely certain of what that means. Here's what I've found out since: Bloomington is pretty much BFE, but it's still awesome.

The gig in Bloomington was at a little place called The Blue Bird. Even Marcus commented on the inside's resemblance to a barn. It was a cool, dark hole with low ceilings, a low stage, and a great crowd. It's no wonder that John Cougar Mellencamp frequented the place back in the day (or so I was told by an IU Alum just a couple days ago). The whole thing felt like a hoedown, and the energy that was lacking in Chicago came back three-fold to the band and the crowd. With my two friends from Columbus and Cleveland, and two new friends we met that day in line, we lined the stage, pulled out our cameras and had a blast.

Here's one surprising fact about the band you may not know just by listening to the CD: They all play a lot of instruments very well. At any given show, you can find Ben Lovett (usually seen on the keyboard) tickling the plastic ivories, playing accordion or, so we found out in Indiana, hammering on the drums. (Usually in the new song, "Whispers in the Dark.") Marcus, who you'll most often see singing and playing guitar all while alternating kick tambo and kick drum, also gets some decent licks on the drumset for "Lover of the Light" and "Dust Bowl Dance." Winston (Country), I'm pretty sure, can play anything. I've seen him with a guitar, a mandolin, a dobro and a banjo. He plays all of them insanely well and all while showing off his sweet dance moves. Ted, who usually sticks to the upright bass, can also play a regular bass (duh) and drums (We saw him play for "Thistle and Weeds"). I also happen to know he's dabbled with the Ukulele and guitar. They're amazingly talented lads and I'm thrilled to say I've seen them four times.

I'm also certain that I'll see them many, many more times.