Addie Hamilton and Pokey LaFarge at the West Theatre. Photo by Elsa Krantz.

Last Thursday and Friday night offered two very different musical experiences that underlined reminders I needed. 

The means by which these reminders were handed to me looked quite different, and for that, I am ultimately reminded to be grateful for the varying points of access to music we have in this town. How we interpret the messages is highly personalized. Some messages are for love and some are for the ego and some are for the revolution. 

 This past Thursday with bouncing hair and in joyous, spritely fashion, I made my way to The West Theatre to swing hot for Pokey Lafarge. Pokey Lafarge (Andrew Heissler, lead vocals & guitar) heads a group of ragtime bluesy jazz/hot swing that is skippy, snappy and slick. This is dancing music. This is shaking and twisting music. This is timeless music from an older era. 

It is evidently timeless because all the high-spirited swinging folk and I tapping and jiving on the sidelines of the theater could not be sat. Not that the sitters were not in high spirits! They were just sitting. 

Kevin Carducci (bass & harmony vocals) slapped the upright bass so firmly and justly you could hear his skin against the neck without any obstruction of the strings. He was poised and he shook. 

Andrew Guterman (drums) held so much down with such slight. He created spaciousness in simplicity. 

Hank Mehren (keyboard, organ) was just incredible. His use of the organ above keys was tastefully intermittent. Once we’d noticed the presence of his Reface YC, we couldn’t keep our eyes off it with such great anticipation. 

Addie Hamilton (harmony vocals & hopping dance moves to bring all potential energy further up) gravitated her stage performance moves to a deep bend in the knees nearly every time Mehren went rapidly sliding around on the keys. I promise I will come back to pink sparkly-booted Hamilton. 

But first, Erik Miron (guitar, trumpet) played the guitar and the trumpet at the same damn time. Also, tastefully intermittent in his dual mastery was a Plunger. Capital P.  This gave him some growl as he moved between the main stage level and the stairs. He looked at ease. He was sparsely reactive to his surroundings and evidently tapped in. Through cooing and groaning and gargling, sputtering laughter and holler, we enjoyed every single bit. We moved as the band made unobstructed and tactful choices. 

Back to Addie Hamilton. She is completely magnetic. Partner of Pokey and woman of choreographic power to elevate and move, we were elevated and moved by way of her power. She’s classically trained and has a rich background in performance, drawing elements from big band swing and Solo Charleston. I didn’t know what to call these moves until I did a little research on the gal and fell into a trance of watching videos of this fun. She shines bright. She moves freely. 

Pokey and Addie, side-by-side in step and grinning swayed and weaved in and out of one another with love. They sang the song, “It’s Not Over,” about, “... their love story.” The song is about closing and opening doors, working and waiting on a relationship, ringing out, “You can’t close heaven’s doors.” What might heaven’s doors open us to? 

They moved together on stage in their purest forms as separates and equals and a pair. As I danced beside my lover, I remembered that heaven’s doors never closed. 

Without lowering a high-knee once through the song “Run Run Run,” the temperature of the entire room was raised four degrees. I lowered my knees, but Pokey and Addie never wavered. A slow-dance was dedicated to an audience member who was raised from seat by the hand of his lover to sway gently. Other lovers alike joined in this engagement. It slowed the sweating and the hopping. What to do with all of this love offered to guide us in our movement? Swing. Skip. Snap. By swing, I mean move. By skip, I mean choose. By snap, I mean break down walls. 

Another lesson offered in another form: Friday night at Blacklist, Gertrude for Now had their debut performance. Gertrude for Now consists of Kat, Aurora and Worm. These three swapped names a few times. Names are not so important I suppose, unless the name wants to be. 

There was a banjo, an accordion and an acoustic guitar. They rallied with balanced harmonies and intermittent time changes. Their songs (covers and one single) emanated from a soft folk punk expression. Though voices were softer than what you may often hear in folk punk, they sharpened their tone as the pace of songs sped up and their grit carried these fluxes of greater intensity. The sway of these tunes back and forth much so by way of the accordion as central to their movement guided them and us. 

Much of the message through their covers and original was a critique of the way things are. They implied the feeling of confinement and some access to pleasure in nihilism. Specifically, they covered the song “Honey in the Hair” by Blackbird Raum. “Who makes the wind blow? I don’t care, my eyes roll back in my head,” and “I’m just walking in circles,” sang through their yearning voices that emphasized an antsy, fed-upness with bullshit that their calling made space for. 

Their original song “Home” spoke of “Buying your time” and “Trying to make a new world.” In their declaration of intolerance for the disruption of belonging our systems have instilled, “All it takes is a brick and their empire starts to fall,” separates us from the empire. The empire is as much in our hands as it is in theirs. Well, the brick is in our hands as a means to the fall, and Gertrude for Now reminded us that we have means. We co-create. There is strength in belonging within ourselves that empowers us to choose sovereignty over fear. Gertrude for Now sang out, “From the river to the sea, Gaza will be free.” 

It is in this statement that our innate capacity for freedom is vast and true. No institution can disable us from, “Tearing these fucking walls down.” Thank you Gertrude for Now for these reminders. Thank you. 

When will we see them again? No one can say – for now. What to do with all of this offered to us through music? Swing. Skip. Snap. By swing, I mean move. By skip, I mean choose. By snap, I mean break down walls.