A band called The Editors was on the radio and it was a edgy, anthemic tune, so I was surprised to see the title of the song “Munch”. I didn’t follow the lyrics closely, but it seemed too passionate to have such a frivolous title. It was unpleasant in the literary sense – like going to a nice restaurant and ordering something called Sammich. Please, I will chew Sammich.
On second glance I realized the song was called “Munich” and that must have made more sense. Munich literally means a house of monks so the importance is reached, and it is doubtful that the song had anything to do with casual chewing of food. Two things I learned in that moment: 1) I really need to get my eyes checked and 2) if I’m going to write about music, I should probably stick to the scene rather than analyze the actual product. However, Munich is “Munchen” in German, so maybe I’m not completely off base.
Anyway, Oktoberfest – Oakhurst Porchfest is worth mentioning. Last month I wrote about how I love seeing live music and going to bed early, and how those two things don’t always go together. Well, Porchfest always helps because I get to hang around the neighborhood all day, watch some great live music, and be home on the couch by 7pm. Some call it pathos, I call it perfect.
The kids had Porchfest plans of their own, so Kristen and I were able to wander around on this clear, crisp day. We started off with a mellow set of Fleetwood Mac covers and then went around the corner to see a lively band called Pound Cake. They had a great crowd and a familiar sound and after about twenty minutes I realized that this was the same band that played us about four years ago!
Porchfest has grown up, I tell you. The music keeps getting better, the crowds keep getting bigger, and I guarantee you’ll get your groove on. We bumped into Margot playing with her group of friends, and while we were happy to let her enjoy her freedom, we couldn’t resist squeezing in an eye roll and forcing everyone to grab a bottle of water. At one point we spotted Elliot from across the street, but he cleverly pretended he had no idea who we were. Well played, son.
There were many others who happily faced us. The theme of the day seemed to be that the people Kristen works out with at FitWit liked to see her dressed up and cute, while her current and former co-workers at the American Cancer Society liked to see her dressed up and cute. I was just happy to be the cute guy who carried around a little cooler of drinks.
We caught an outfit called Chickens and Pigs that we remembered from Virginia Highlands bars over twenty years ago. They haven’t changed at all, have they? Then we saw a slick sounding band called the Thrillbillies who specialized in covering songs I knew but hadn’t thought about in forever. I heard someone say that one of the tunes was originally done by Three Dog Night. It was like a trivia game wrapped up in a concert.
We checked in with some favorites to round out the day. The New Teardowns played loud and big and gave us a dose of our 1990s selves. Also, I appreciate that the lead singer admitted to being a little winded between songs. And finally, the Brit-rock sounds of Her Majesty’s Request, which I think rightly retains its clever title despite recent events. They draw such a large crowd that we settled for a closed, standing room only tour. Either they got too big for Porchfest, or Caiola needs to prune that oak tree.