by Jeremy Owen
A non-review of Rasputin’s Beard – 5/23/10
I knew I was going to be late to the Beard last night; I knew that much. I was already cursing those circumstances that had conspired and reared their ugly heads at once to mire my day down in non-musical minutia. But even so, I had hoped to catch the latter half at least; 2 out of the 4 bands. I was hoping against hope that one of those bands would be Greg Kelly’s.
But then late became late, and then later still. By the time I arrived at the Elmdale tavern, daylight was fading from the sky, muting all the colors, turning everything to a washed out shade of grey. But I could still hear music as I approached and this was encouraging. I entered into a wave of enthusiastic applause which also boded well: whoever was onstage appeared to be holding the entire room in the palm of their hand.
And as I approached the bar for a half-pint the applause faded almost reluctantly and the band started up again.
The song they played was amazing. Crisp, clean female vocals, horn solo, deadly rhythm. After they were done Hollis Morgan took the stage and thanked everyone for coming out to another successful Rasputin’s Beard. The evening was over and that is why I cannot offer anything resembling a review of it – because I only caught two rounds of applause with a single song between them – a pair of thunderclaps and a flash of lightning. But I can offer a unique perspective all the same: that of the outsider, the latecomer, arrived just in time to see the effect but not the cause which preceded it.
To glimpse, in that last song the potential for the entire evening, makes this more of a cautionary tale than anything else: do not let yourself miss Rasputin’s events. You will be sad.
Jeremy Owen is Sad.