I went to the Neko Case concert on Saturday. It was – as it always is – an incredible show. I make a point of seeing every show she plays within striking distance of me and I have never once regretted it.
Once, on a whim, in the dimly remembered days of 2008, I actually took what would turn out to be a life-changing road trip to see Neko play in Reno. She was coming through Portland, but I decided it might be a fun adventure to go somewhere further afield to see her instead.
At that point in my life I was still relatively new to traveling at all, and had never really taken more than a weekend trip anywhere by myself. Faced with a furlough at work and a kid free stretch of time, I decided to change that.
Given my modest resources as the time, this was going to be a car camping adventure by and large. I was driving a 1998 VW Passat Wagon (RIP Klaus) which comfortably accommodated my camping futon with the seats folded down. I did book myself one night at Circus Circus for the night of the show, as a treat.
The trip down was lackadaisical and a bit meandering. Only a bit because this was in the dim days before anyone had a map on their phone. I navigated this journey with a print out from Mapquest and an honest to god road atlas.
Coming home was a more or less straight 9 hour shot with one snooze break to sustain me. Along the way, I stopped in the middle of the Lassen Volcanic Monument at 2am with Radiohead blasting to marvel at the glut of stars strewn in every direction. It remains one of the most vivid experiences of awe I have ever felt. It was truly a gift.
If that weren’t enough, I was also fortunate enough to come away from that trip with the understanding that traveling by myself was not only possible, but could be magical and completely worthwhile. Since then I have taken myself on any number of adventures on my own and been incredibly glad to have done so.
So began a great tradition of coming away from concerts with Neko carrying something new and precious with me.
This weekend, it was a gift of discovery too. I was completely unaware of John Grant, who was her opening act. What proceeded after he took the stage was truly breathtaking. It was surprising and moving and unexpected and great. And then there was Laura Lou.
When he turned to the microphone with the distortion can, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. What began was something that dove into my amygdala by way of my ears and lodged firmly in my heart. It is haunting and beautiful and strange. It is compelling and glorious and I am so grateful to have it brought to me in this moment of heightened experience, poised to see the musician I admire most in the world do that singular thing she does.
Now, to convince someone to start calling me Lemon Bar…
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