So, the proud winner of the title poll is “Tentacle Season,” which will be my contribution to the Clarion tee. No one wins against Cthulhu, apparently. Thanks for the help, everyone!
And now, belated and slipshod musings on the awesomeness that was seeing Rasputina live in concert.
What I can recall of the playlist: Hunter’s Kiss, 1816, Holocaust with Giants, Rats, Secret Message, Sweet Sister Temperance (about Emily Dickenson), Transylvanian Concubine (yay Buffy), Watch TV, Mama Was an Opium Smoker, Wicked Dickie, Wish You Were Here, Saline the Salt Lake Queen, Any Old Actress, Snow Hen of Austerlitz (on banjo), In Old Yellowcake, Bad Moon Rising AND MANY MOAR.
Random and hilarious things Melora said: “Good afternoon, evening!” “We are always growing in our craft, practicing our craft…we watch a lot of RuPaul’s Drag Race to make sure we’re always growing in our craft.”
They played for an hour and forty minutes, and I was third row center—seriously like ten feet away from Melora. Matt and Patty wandered off to play frisbee an hour or so into the set, but I could not be torn away–I pretty much went into paroxysms of joy during the first song and did not stop twitching until after the encore. They did not play my favorite song (The Mayor) but that is so okay, because oh, they are even better live than on their perfect albums. Seriously, they make two cellos and a quiet drumkit sound enormous. Filled up the Pritzker Pavilion liek whoa. And the concert was free, though I would’ve paid a small fortune for the seats I had (and we were only running maybe an hour early, if that–no line, no nothing).
Then Patty (she of the Loop know-how, because she’s at SAIC) took us to a rooftop bar, the Plymouth, overlooking the Chicago library. $5 dirty martinis (I did not partake, but Matt and Eric said they were deliciously dirty) and a fantastic view. I love Chicago so, so hard.