so, i saw ryan adams

Look, here’s proof, in the form of a bad photo that I removed a lot of digital noise from when I processed it, so now it’s really blurry, but that blob with the guitar? Ryan Adams.

I saw him at the Ann Arbor Folk Festival. The reason I was at the Ann Arbor Folk Festival was because he was headlining the Friday night show. When I read a list of his tour dates maybe six weeks or so ago, and saw that he’d be making a stop in Ann Arbor (which is, if not my favorite town, then one of my very favorites), I thought to myself, “Sign me up!” And I asked Missy, my best friend and all-around swell person, if she’d like to go. At first she thought I meant Bryan Adams, and I said, “No, Ryan. I’ll make you a CD.” (She totally digs him now too, because of my awesome CD-making skills. He actually played several songs that were on the CD, because I know how to pick ‘em.)

So yesterday, we both left work early and went to Ann Arbor. We stopped for dinner at Ali Baba’s Mediterranean Restaurant, I think because years ago, when I was moving out of my house in Ann Arbor, Missy helped me move out the last of my stuff, and we walked up the street and had dinner there. After I’d gotten everything and left my key on the counter, locked the door and closed it, Missy realized that she’d set her leftovers on the counter and had forgotten to get them. So this was sort of like being able to being able to eat the rest of the sandwich, but not the same sandwich, obviously, because years have passed and, you know, I think I’m just going to stop writing this sentence. The waiter was quite a flirt, or I guess you could say he was very attentive, but anyway, he totally asked me out and I am now in possession of his phone number. But we got out of the show last night way too late to meet him, so, um, yeah. Something. Ladies, you know when you’re out with one or more friends and a guy hits on one of you and the one who’s being hit on gives the look to her friend(s)? And that look means “Please help make this stop,” and the friend(s) are supposed to, you know, help? Missy was all, “Well, maybe we could meet you later. I don’t know what time the show is going to be over, though, and we’re not going to leave early. Tee hee!”

Not helpful, then, is what I’m saying.

Oh, and then when we were leaving, he actually left the restaurant, came out to my car, and asked me if I needed directions. And then he probably wrote down my license plate number. I don’t know.

Anyway, moving along.

We got to the venue a little bit before the show started (Hill Auditorium, for those of you hip to Ann Arbor) and found our seats, which were pretty good ones, by the way, and saw most of the opening act (Sunny War — she was kind of adorable) undisturbed. And then maybe two and a half songs in, this group of obnoxious people arrived and they of course had the seats right in front of ours. They were probably in their 40s-50s, so you’d think they’d know how to behave in public, but not so much, really, because they were all that type, you know, the Entitled Asshole type. And the two ladies in the middle WOULDN’T SHUT UP and they were LOUD and I kind of wanted to kick them in the back of the head, though it would’ve been a total accident while I was crossing my legs. And the one lady had hair like she was single-handedly trying to bring back 1987. It was very difficult to see around this hair. Here’s a photo of what I could see of DeVotchKa:

Unfortunately this photograph didn’t adequately capture the Koosh ball of bangs in the front. That was the hardest part to see over. FYI.

There was a lot of music last night. Seven acts total. Sunny War, Elephant Revival (they fucking rocked it), David Wax Museum (played on the jawbone of an ass, for real), Carbon Leaf, Dawes (they also fucking rocked it), DeVotchKa (you ever appreciate the musicianship of a band but not want to listen to them? I also feel this way about Arcade Fire), and then Ryan Adams!

Ryan Adams! I have loved Ryan Adams for years and his songs have been the soundtrack to… so many things. There are a lot of songs, so it’s a pretty enormous soundtrack. I like to listen to him when I write. When I was first returning to writing last year, I wrote this Utata Front Page while listening to Blue Sky Blues on repeat. It’s neither here nor there, I don’t suppose, but that’s probably one of the best Front Pages I ever wrote.

I get a lot of shit for listening to Ryan Adams as much as I do, but I don’t really care. Like him or don’t, and listen or don’t listen accordingly. The end.

Since he was part of a festival, he did a shorter set than he would’ve had he not been, um, part of a festival, but he still did a solid hour, and it was a great set. He was funny, a little self-effacing (“Now I’m going to switch it up and play a ballad”), and he sounded incredible. Better than the studio versions in several cases. Here’s the setlist:

Oh My Sweet Carolina
Ashes & Fire
Dirty Rain
My Winding Wheel
Sweet Lil Gal (23rd/1st)
Everybody Knows
Firecracker
Please Do Not Let Me Go
Lucky Now
Let It Ride
Two
New York, New York
Come Pick Me Up

So it was a good mix across albums. I would’ve loved to have heard something from 29 or Demolition, though honestly I would’ve loved to have heard a lot of things. But I have no complaints. As I mentioned, he was great, really really on his game last night. It was an absolutely fantastic solo acoustic show. (I even bought a concert t-shirt, which I haven’t done in approximately 100 years. I bought it because it was red.)

So, yeah. Great night, despite that horrible woman’s horrible hair and kind of getting bitched at for taking a photo.* Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Obviously not from the same show, but here’s what he’s doing with “New York, New York” these days:

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*So, okay, I took that crappy photo of Ryan Adams with my phone. I wasn’t obnoxious or obtrusive. I didn’t use my flash or block anyone’s view. I was sitting with my legs crossed and had my phone resting on my knee. And this woman who was working the festival tapped me on the shoulder and — no kidding — actually made the finger-across-the-throat gesture at me. I don’t know if she thought I was recording a video or what, but there were a lot of people with cameras and phones and people doing flash photography who didn’t get the I’ll-decapitate-you-with-a-fingernail thing. I said okay and then looked down at my phone (I’d taken two equally crappy photos, as it happens), and she kept staring at me until I turned my phone off. At that point, I may have said “Fine. Fuck.” In another life, I bet she’s a library-shusher.