Turning Back the Clock at the Calvin

[Keeping with the big tent nature of this golf blog, the following is a musical interlude.]


Sitting in the sixth row of the Calvin Theater in Northampton on June 25th, I was almost brought to tears early in Mary Chapin Carpenter's first set. It was a mixture of emotions as MCC was returning to tour with a new album, "The Age of Miracles" after suffering a pulmonary embolism three years ago just before she was about to go on tour for her last album.


After she'd played a couple of songs from her new album and brought out a few of the old favorites, it struck me of what a body of work she has compiled. The first few bars of each song were always familiar, but I usually didn't recognize the tune right away because I know so many of her songs -- at least a half dozen albums' worth. As the set continued I kept thinking that I couldn't wait to pull out every one of her albums and listen to each one. In the weeks since the concert I've been doing just that.


As is the case with many of my musical interests, my introduction to MCC in the early 90s was courtesy of my brother Jerry. He often commented that her songs are really more like poetry set to music and I was immediately captivated by her soulfulness which comes through equally well in her soft ballads as her raucus anthems, a versatility that showed fine form at the Calvin.

The introduction to MCC came during my days in Washington, and I began to listen to her almost exclusively, buying each album as soon as it came out. I remember one night at a bar playing a song of hers on the jukebox -- my roommates and girlfriend (Jen) were incredulous given that I listened to her nonstop at home. I darn near wore out "Come On Come On" and "Shooting Straight in the Dark," the first two albums I owned.


My sister Kathleen was also a fan and was concerned what would happen if she gained widespread popularity. Kathleen needn't have been worried. Though MCC won grammys and had a number of cross over country/folk/pop hits, and has maintained a dedicated following as the audience in Northampton showed, her popularity faded in the 1990s.

As her mainstream popularity waned, I stopped listening to her as often too, and I'm not exactly sure why. It certainly wasn't because she wasn't as "popular" -- I suppose my musical tastes changed.


I could also blame Jerry. I've never been one to have a constant soundtrack to my life. Though I enjoy a wide variety of music, I don't have an ipod. I'm sort of monagamous when it comes to a primary musical interest and somewhere about ten years ago, Jerry introduced me to Alison Krauss who became my "steady" musical interest.


Though I'd strayed, I continued to buy all MCC's albums, and Jen and I went to see her in July 2001 at the Fillmore Theater in Denver on her "Time Sex Love" tour. I just didn't listen to the newer albums (or the older ones) nearly as often.


I think there's another reason that I stopped listening to her as much. Her music, especially her older works, was a connection to a distinct time in my life. It provided instant passage to my DC days, working in the Senate, partying with the DC crew, planning for grad school and life after, my courtship with Jen and the loss of my Mom, all rolled into one. I actually sent MCC the only fan letter I've ever written, about how her music helped me through the time of my Mom's illness and in the months after she died. I found then, as I do now, that although some of her songs are filled with sadness and regret, there's an underlying resilience that brought me strength.


Though it was filled with its share of heartache, my time in DC was special. As I moved on to get my MBA in Chapel Hill and then to Denver, I missed DC and its top of the world feeling, even though I knew I needed separation from it. Alison Krauss and her sweet bluegrass harmonies were a convenient way to move on.


Many of these thoughts were swirling in my head as I basked in the music that night, and I wish I'd gotten around to writing some of them down sooner. I'm concerned some of the profound insights have dulled with the passage of the last few weeks, though I've kept many of them going as I've made my way CD by CD through the MCC music library.

I sat next to a builder from Shutesbury, a nice guy named Tom who's neighbor was in the band. The warm up act was a very young artist named Cara Salimando with a smokey voice. Her songs were sweet, and I'm sure her music will gain new depth once she's been seasoned by life a bit more. MCC looked good and though her voice was maybe not quite as strong on the higher notes as I remember, it has even more depth and richness that infuses the words with the particular emotion of each song. I can't do any better describing the scene or the music than Kevin O'Hare of the Republican did in his review. http://www.masslive.com/entertainment/index.ssf/2010/06/mary_chapin_carpenters_comebac.html


Going to the concert was like finally putting aside the time to catch up with a dear friend. One of those things you never get around to, but can be so rewarding when you do.

Right after my time in DC, it felt a little tender to revisit MCC's music, but it felt right that night at the Calvin. Once I got over the initial shock of how long ago that was, and how much had happened in the intervening years, both feelings brought satisfaction instead of angst. It was satisfying to look back and at those days and the good run since. I got the sense MCC might have been thinking the same thing on stage that night.