Shows, Books, Orbs
thoughts on a concert, a ranking of Patrick DeWitt novels, The Bird Calls in Chicago
Hey everyone,
Last night I went to see Sarah McLachlan play Radio City on the Fumbling Towards Ecstasy anniversary tour. That album holds a special place in my heart after becoming my go-to pandemic year soundtrack. (I wrote a small blurb about it at the time.) I tend not to love these shows where an artist performs an iconic album front-to-back, but the way she worked it into the set felt incredibly powerful to me. Because it’s somewhat an outlier in her catalog, she teed off the album with basically a full set of her more characteristic material and hits, and then let these more atmospheric, amorphous songs flow from there. It felt meditative and personal, true to the adventurous spirit of the record, all about the journey. Also her voice sounded incredible.
In other news, over the past month, I’ve read four consecutive books by the novelist Patrick DeWitt, who in the acknowledgements of most of them, thanks someone named Sarah McLachlan. (After doing some research, I learned he is referring to the publisher of the same name, but the other Sarah McLachlan seemed like a possibility since they are both from Canada.) It’s been a while since I’ve connected so strongly with a writer, especially a writer of contemporary fiction, but I can’t get enough. His aversion to cliches, his focus on momentum and readability, the amount of control in his storytelling, the tenderness in his subject matter and the oblique ways he comes at it— I can’t put these things down. Here is my personal ranking of what I’ve read so far.
French Exit
Total masterpiece. I loved every page.
Favorite sentence: Frances had climbed into her bed, which had been pushed to the center of her room, and Malcolm rode around her in slow circles.
The Sisters Brothers
Equally a masterpiece. If French Exit is like an early Wes Anderson film—intimate, self-contained, confident in its idiosyncrasies—then this is more like the Coen Brothers—purposefully meandering, heavy on comedy and brutality, bleak in outlook but irreverent in tone.
Favorite sentence: I thought, when a man is properly drunk it is as though he is in a room by himself—there is a physical, impenetrable separation between him and his fellows.
Undermajordomo Minor
I wasn’t fully convinced of this one until near the end, but it all came together in such a poignant, unassuming way. I would also note this is his funniest book, and with the best dialogue.
Favorite sentence: His heart was a church of his own choosing, and the lights came through the colorful windows.
Runner-up sentence: At this, the two men laughed, a violent laughter which multiplied hugely in the gaping cavern, and was reminiscent of thunder in that it was at once vivid and vague.
Ablutions
His first book is very different from the rest, in the way that Tom Waits’ early stuff is very different from the rest, but I still liked it. He maybe falls prey to a tendency that seems common among young novelists, which is to prove their authenticity by constantly drawing your attention to the cruelty, griminess, and extremity of human nature. I can be sympathetic toward this type of writing and wouldn’t call it out other than to say, he comes at these facts a lot more subtly and surprisingly in all of his other books.
Favorite sentence: I slept badly but I’ve lived to tell the tale.
Today I picked up his most recent novel, The Librarianist, which is dedicated to David Berman (the music one). I am saving it to read on my upcoming trip to Chicago, which I am very excited about. Why am I going to Chicago? To play the final show (for now) of my run of shows behind my latest album, Old Faithful. These performances have been quite special, and this one promises to be no different. I’ll be sharing a stage with Advance Base, an artist whom I have admired for a long time. If you’re in the area and want tickets, here is a link. Below is the first song of his I ever heard.
Since my last transmission, I think I’ve only published one freelance thing, which is this review of the new Crypt Sermon album. God bless the new Crypt Sermon album. Sometimes you hear something and you immediately recognize it will become a regular fixture in your listening. That’s how this album is for me. I can already hum along to all the guitar solos, which is a good sign. I recommend it highly.
Cloaked in the shadows on a moonless night,
Sammy