Heads Up : British Sea Power Hits Boston

Posted on August 8, 2003 at 8:09 am | No Comments

Thanks to the refined musical tastes of Mr. Miller over in the UK, I’ve become a fast fan of a band called British Sea Power. He turned me onto them a couple months ago, and they’ve settled perfectly into my summer listenin’ rotation.

Well, now I owe him not just one pint, but maybe dinner to go with it, since he pointed out the fact that they’re playing here in just two days. 10:15, Sunday night, at TT the Bears in Cambridge. I check the TTs schedule regularly, so it must have just been added. I lucked out.

Do me a favor, will ya? Go to the B.S.P. site, read some reviews, download a couple of mp3s. Stop by this unoffical fan-site to see what they inspire. It’s their first U.S. tour, and these guys deserve a solid crowd, even on a Sunday night. Their new full-lengther is import-only, so not only will you get to see their first and last appearance in such a small club, but you’ll be able to buy the disc straight from them. I’ve downloaded it, and it’s excellent stuff. I’ll be glad to have the top-notch graphic design to go along with the songs.

If you’re outside the Boston area, check their concert page. They’re doing a few East Coast shows, then it’s back to the UK, Germany, and Ireland. The U.S. dates are…

Thanks again, Steve. Appreciate the tip.

The Mystery of the Monitor

Posted on August 6, 2003 at 7:34 am | No Comments

Meet the Monitor. Early every weekday morning, without fail, he appears. He stands there, just inside the rightmost entrance of the Back Bay T-station, maybe for hours, a blind-man’s cane in his right hand and a high-powered walkie-talkie in his left. Well-dressed, eyes closed, the radio never leaves his ear, and I’ve never seen him move from his chosen position. Nearly two years running and he’s hardly missed a morning.

What is he listening for? The chatter of the train controllers, directing this busy intersection of commuter and subway lines? Is he scanning the emergency bands, eavesdropping as dispatchers dole out early-morning alerts? Or is it something else entirely? Is it some sort of therapy? Is there a kind of comfort in the communication that maybe makes up, just a little, for a lack of eyesight? Maybe something only he can hear, or something he’s never heard but thinks he just might, from this perfect spot?

Thousands of commuters walk by him, step around him as they start their downtown Boston days. But this is the start of his day, his regular routine. I don’t have it in me to ask him what’s out there, partly because I wouldn’t want to interrupt… and maybe because it’s more fun wondering.