Michael and I went to the Birchmere last night to see Robyn Hitchcock.
Robyn Hitchcock is impossible to really describe as an artist. He’s been through a multitude of permutations, some of his music is downright poppy, some of it is folky, some of it is really… hard to tackle.
Michael was really pumped about this concert. I had just spent an hour lost in downtown DC in the middle of rush-hour so my excitement was minimal. If you were cut-off yesterday in DC traffic by a silver bug, accept my apologies. I was very, very lost and the signage was very, very minimal.
I could say a lot of nice things about the Birchmere. The food is kind of expensive but it’s pretty good and there’s a lot of it. The atmosphere is nice. I read a few complaints about patrons talking through shows, but it was really quiet and everyone was very respectful.
Robyn played with two musicians for two hours. I was blown away. His voice was actually in very good shape, which I was scared about after hearing some music from concerts. His banter was as playful and amusing as I had dared to hope. And hearing his music live actually gave me a greater appreciation for the music.
And yes, Robyn Hitchcock gave me goosebumps during the show, when he was on stage performing by himself. I have an aunt who judges people’s voices by whether or not they give her goosebumps, and I’ve since used that as part of my own criteria. But, don’t ever let him make eye contact with you because he has crazy intense eyes, soul-stealing eyes. Like a cat.
Best concert I’ve seen in years. Gives me hope in the future of music.
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Some reviewer or other described him as “the Mad Hatter of British pop music” back in the 1980s. That fits as well as anything, I think.
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