You should've been there, that's all there is to it.

Robyn's show Wednesday in Chicago was fantastic. Even a non-Feg I brought along was impressed, especially by the acoustic Robyn. He played "My Wife and my Dead Wife", and a lot of other stuff.

(OK, OK, I'm told I can't leave it at that. Here's a fairly complete list, in no particular order, to the best of the recollections of myself, Susan Dodge of the raven hair, and Tracy Copeland whose tresses are akin to fine spun toast):

Robyn said that in honor of Halloween, he was sticking mainly to songs having to do with death, which strangely didn't seem to limit his song selection any...

My Wife and my Dead Wife
De Chirico Street
Green Storm Lantern
Devil's Radio
Devil's Coachman
Face of Death
[the one about what happens when you're dead--does it have a name yet?]
I am not me
I'm Only You
Egyptian Cream
Sinister but Happy
Beautiful Queen
Filthy Bird
You & Oblivion
Chinese Bones

Highlights included an extended trippy solo in "I'm Only You" and an extended monologue of the seduction of a tomato. (Sue suggested that it was steamy enough, he should have gotten our credit card numbers first...) And of course, Deni Bonet added some great touches on several songs, including a terrific seabird effect during "Filthy Bird". Robyn wore the checkerboard shirt; Deni was in pumpkin for the occasion. Not sure what else there is to say; his electric guitar work was good as always, but his hands were just blurs
on a lot of the acoustic songs. Just an amazing musician.
David Witzany


First off, my generous and public thanks to Dave Paetzman for offering me a ride up to Chicago. Susan Dodge did everything right for the pre-show meeting; we netted seven people and only lost Andy.

Vic security was as harsh as reported, costing people dinner and tape decks, but the venue itself is interesting. The waitresses wander through the crowd with little lights held under the beer bottles so that they glow; Hitchcock kept staring at them at the beginning of his performance and said something witty like "I like the way you light up the bottles."

General notes: Hitchcock certainly looks his age, but since he's fascinated by decay he may be enjoying the aging process. He's even grayer than last year and has a singularly unflattering haircut - sort of stuck down along his head, with little tufts sticking out below his ears and a frizzy fringe hanging down in front of his eyes. He's putting on weight, too - there was a definite bulging tummy under his op-art black-and-white checks-and-spirals shirt. (He switched to the blue lizards about halfway in, but the gut didn't go anywhere.) And the older he gets, the more he looks like my old history professor, the one Meg had a crush on. I had a crush on Meg. What this says about me I don't know, but someone might file it away for a future game of links.

He said he'd be playing a lot of songs about death for Halloween, but I didn't notice more than usual. Wonder what excuse he's using on the rest of the tour. "Green Storm Lantern" was the opener, a weird little new song that was hardly calculated to win over the Bragg fans - "Devil's Radio" (the next song) might have done better were that his intention; it's more direct, and when he announced it was about hate radio there was a murmur of appreciation. He *whistled* the radio-tuning-in noises. His singing was sharper than on either of the recorded versions - if it had been matched with the _ML_ arrangement, then *that* should have been the single. People were singing along with "My Wife and My Dead Wife," which must have been a challenge since Hitchcock wasn't phrasing it the way he usually does. "I'm Only You" with a monologue about how when you love someone and they leave, you begin assimilating their characteristics - buying their brand of cigarettes and not smoking them, just leaving them lying around; going to their favorite films even though you hate them; calling up their friends and hanging up when you realize you don't know them. When you miss someone enough you start to become them, he concluded, and it's a pity it hasn't happened to the Christian church. He wound up with a long, intricate solo. (No out-and-out instrumentals that night, but there was a long electric solo later, and he got the blues and played the best harmonica I've ever heard from him.)

Deni Bonet is as perky and appealing as ever - she wore a pleated orange skirt, and I think Hitchcock introduced her as "the human pumpkin girl." (Does this woman own an article of clothing that isn't orange? She wore orange at all the shows I saw last year and it was as far away from Halloween as it gets). Her habit of dancing around while she plays is so cute - she doesn't look like she's entertaining, just like she's off in her own world. On a few songs she started leaning in towards Hitchcock, and as she leaned back he'd lean in, and he'd take a step closer, until they ended up nearly dancing. They're so tall they looked like herons courting. Hitchcock announced "Egyptian Cream" by saying "for those of you with an interest in transsexuality, there's a cream you can rub on yourself to turn women into men, and then it turns you into a vegetable. This is the advertisement." I thought the performance lacked the intensity it had last year, though. "I Am Not Me" was missing the exaggerated hair-flipping from last year and some of the passion, but I prefer these lyrics ("'that's Enilorac'/She said "Don't turn your back" and "' We've been introduced'/She said 'That's no excuse'") to the ones that got recorded.

Not a whole lot of stories - a monologue about a long narrow bed with a cupboard at the end, and the door swinging open to reveal a rotting horse's head gazing balefully at you as though this is your fault. It's about twelve days dead, though the horse "might be alive somewhere but it hasn't got its head." You have to get rid of it, but there's no door, and
the window is closed - whoops! the window is gone. Another explained that CDs are terrifying - even astronauts cringe from them - because they remind us of how thinly we can slice each other when a relationship goes bad, which had something to do with confusing the new Phil Collins album with a slice of salami.

It was a fine show, and not as short as I'd feared, but it was less emotionally intense than others I've seen - "Airscape" or "I Used To Say I Love You" or "Queen Elvis" or the like might have made it memorable instead of just satisfying.

Hitchcock's lyrics get all the press, but what really struck me Wednesday night was the quality of his music - if the music wasn't great he'd just be an abstract Warren Zevon or something. I'd been annoyed that I'd never see another Egyptians show, but for the first time I didn't miss them.

Tracy C

Oh, and if anyone does have a tape you might be able to hear me yelling "More songs about toast" at the end of "Devil's Coachman."