The Final Show

So here I sit, no longer a musician.

And realize, of course, how unlikely that is.

The show on Friday night was almost indescribable. Unlike any other gig we’ve done it flew by in the flashing images of a DVR on super fast-forward. So many people came out that I often got overwhelmed just looking out at the crowd; there were hundreds of people crammed into a bar meant to hold eighty at best. From the foot of the stage there was a solid mass of human bodies straight back to the the doorway a hundred feet away. The thickest mass on the dance floor danced all night, but maybe a better description is that they throbbed, pressed together like pieces in a horizontal Tetris game, finding just the right fit against one another to move to the music without injuring anyone around them.

This was also really the first time there was a joining of our following; fans of the band who only ever saw us at Grandview Café, or Park Street Tavern, or Claddagh on St. Patrick’s day, or at certain weddings were all there together with our closest friends who have seen us everywhere. I felt nothing short of honored to see so many familiar faces taking in the music one last time.

I was also so very moved at seeing my closest friends there, including Jim, who had come up from Florida just for the show. Those in attendance knew just what a profound event this was for me and I am deeply in their debt for their support.

The band was on fire. Each song was played as though at its height of proficiency right before any boredom developed in its constant repetition. I think the irony is that the gig was so good that (not surprisingly) I want us to keep playing now, yet I know that the grace and bliss of that night existed because it was our swan song. The synchronicity of our performance with the crowd’s perception and retransmission of the energy back to us through their movement and cheers could only be a product of Sharp Circle Band’s farewell performance.

I can only agree with what Scott said last week after our Halloween show; it’s probably a damn good thing we never had Tim Perdue, Kevin O'Neill and Fred Gablick together before then because that sound alone is almost enough to never want to end things and ruin the whole plan of going out on a high note. Additionally having Sarah Stout and Damon Mollenkopf sing a few tunes with us (with that particular horn section behind us) was just icing on the sweetest, fattest, funkiest cake ever made.

Before I knew it, the moment I’d been dreading had arrived: Jason’s bass playing the intro to “With A Little Help From My Friends.” Looking out I saw that most of the faces were now stained with tears. In the last decade, friends of the band used our performances to get through the hard times of their lives as they came of age in their growing-up and grown-up worlds; we in turn relied on all of these friends to help get us to the high level of success we enjoyed for so many years. And then my eyes were wet too, trying to imagine just what in the ever-loving hell we were thinking when we decided to call it quits.

A day later I tried hard to put it all into perspective and remembered the reasons that it was time to stop:
- Aside from the final show, the week before at Grandview Cafe, and probably the Smokey Robinson show, there hadn’t been many uplifting, rewarding club gigs for probably over a year.
- The weddings we played during the last year or so found us playing to younger and younger couples who were less and less in touch with our style of music.
- I need to have some free weekends for awhile to dedicate all the time I can to my family while my boys are in their wide-eyed and delighted youth.

It was time to end. And what an end it was.

For those of you who have asked repeatedly, this question at least is answered: Friday, November 4, 2011, was not the last time I’ll play live music. It was just the last time for now.

I have a lot more parks and hiking trails to hit with my sons. And I have to hit the woodshed. And I have to hit a ****ing gym.

Then we'll see what other trouble that guitar of mine can get me into. In the meantime, if someone books a Sharp Circle Reunion show next fall, I’ll be there, baby. Ya heard?