Neko Case – PIEFOLK

Him: Hey, thanks for coming to the party.

Me: This is quite a scene. A Brief View of the Hudson. Helluva name.

Him: Yes, thanks! How do you know Victor? Victor’s a good guy.

Me: Victor is the best.

Him: How’s that?

Me: Victor is the reason I do comedy for a living. He trained me a long time ago to be funny.

Him: I bet you were already funny.

Me: Well he trained me to be strong, then. And nice. And he makes fun of me constantly.

Him: I like that. We all need to be made fun of.

Me: I like your band. How is it that I don’t know you guys yet?

Him: Only so many hours in the day? We get around.

Me: I can see that. Wow. Her voice is amazing. There’s a real scene springing up around you guys, huh?

Him: I’m too modest to say that, but thank you.

Me: Her voice…

Him: Right?

Me: She reminds me of Florence Welch a little bit.

Him: Really? I’ll take that.

Me: And also Neko Case.

Him: Whoa. Haven’t gotten that one yet.

Me: If you turned up the verb on her microphone it would sound a little like Neko.

Him: Well I’ll remember not to do that.

Me: Neko has that dark country stamp right now. Don’t wanna copy anyone.

Him: Exactly.

Me: Meanwhile you sound like a light-hearted Leonard Cohen. What would you call your music?

Him: On the phone?

Me: If you were to name it.

Him: Folk-rock.

Me: Hm.

Him: Why?

Me: Nothing…

Him: What would you call it?

Me: Well, it’s unique, obviously. It’s not bluegrass…

Him: No, we’re not a bluegrass band, but there’s banjo on the album.

Me: It doesn’t sound like Old Crow Medicine Show. That’s just straight up bluegrass.

Him: Right.

Me: It reminds me of Mumford and Sons, but you don’t have the drive to make every song epic, which I like. I get time to breathe and reflect when I listen to your music.

Him: Okay – I like where this is going.

Me: If I had to name your sound I might call it… Brooklyn New-grass.

Him: Oh I like that a lot!

Me: Good. That’s what I’ll call it on my site.

Him: What’s your site?

Me: Here’s my card.

Him: Here’s my CD.

Me: I’m glad I met you.

Him: I’m glad I met you, too. Did you come to see us? Victor is planning on throwing lots of parties like this.

Me: No, I’m just checking up on Victor.

Him: Why?

Me: I like knowing he’s happy.

Him: Why?

Me: He gave me a gift that has kept me safe over the years.

Him: What’s that?

Me: My favorite quote ever.

Him: What’s that?

Me: “There are no absolutes in life, except your own opinion.”

Him: I like that a lot.

Me: I like you.

Him: Have another Coors Light?

Me: I have to go meet some gays.

Him: See you soon?

Me: Indeed!

This is The Dodos. They are nice boys. They are talented boys. They are world class musicians. They are rock stars.

Meric Long is the guitarist/lead singer. Logan Kroeber is the guy with the drum kit, and sings too. They quit their jobs and became rock icons in 2006. They have since toured the country with national acts like Les Savy Fav, Peter and the Wolf, and The New Pornographers.

But right now, they’re not doing that. Right now they are headliners.

And they fucking eat the audience alive.

They have a new album out. It features a woman who I consider to be the best alt/dark country artist in the world right now. Her name is Neko Case.

Logan is younger brother to a good friend of mine, Gavin Kroeber. We met a few years back, and Gavin asked me to take Logan on a bike, skateboard, roller blade ride with him and his girlfriend.

Him: Jesus. You’re a speed demon on those blades.

Me: I am?

Him: Yeah. You’re all about the forward motion.

Me: Yes. That’s very true. Should we fuck around on this concrete softball court?

Him: Okay. That might be nice. Michelle is probably tired.

Me: That’s not very forward thinking. Just because she’s a girl? She’s on the bike.

Him: No. Because she suffered a real loss. Remember. I told you about that. Two days ago.

Me: Oh. Right. Oh no. I’m being insensitive. I’m self absorbed. I do that sometimes. I have me on the brain. I’m sorry.

Him: It’s okay. That’s just how you’re built. You don’t have to apologize.

Me: I talked to her about it a few days ago. I said something really idiotic about how I just lost my aunt to Alzheimer’s. It probably sounded corny. I was really busted up about it. But this. This I can not imagine.

Him: No. I’m sure she appreciates that you trying to relate.

Me: I felt stupid. That’s not what grief is about. It’s impenetrable. Having someone say ‘I know what you’re going through’ does nothing. It’s meaningless. Nobody knows what you’re going through, not in the moments of grieving something. That’s all yours.

Him: Yeah, I know. I think if we just slow down a little and let her go through what she needs to go through she’ll be okay.

Me: You’re really good.

Him: What?

Me: You’re really good at this. You just alerted me that I needed to be more sensitive without making me feel ashamed. You’re really good. You’re a good man. She’s lucky to have you.

Him: You’re very kind to say so.

Me: Later I’ll take you down to the Hasidic area of Williamsburg. It’s the only place in the world I’ve ever felt invisible.

Him: Invisible?

Me: They don’t acknowledge you if you are not one of them. Sometimes, I wish Gays could get away with that.

(pause)

That was a joke. Kind of.

Him: I’m going to do some skateboarding in this concrete softball court.

Me: I’m going to do Gay little rollerblading turns.

Him: Yes you are.

Merick. Logan. You guys have become powerful artists. Wield that power guys. I remember when you would play Pete’s Candy Store for 20 people. Now look at you. Sold out crowds? Hundreds of people? Yes.

In many ways, I wouldn’t have had the courage to start my own comedy band if I hadn’t become obsessed with your album Beware of the Maniacs. I’m grateful. Thanks for the tickets, and for hanging out. See you when I see you.

xoxoxoxo

Jerks.