Photo: Wayne Webb
Words: David Rouleau
Videos: jchutter
I felt really lucky to get tickets to the Beirut show at the Commodore in Vancouver last thursday night seeing that it was sold out and I hadn’t a dollar to my name. I expressed my dire wishes to see the band play to my new friend Judith who I had met a mere month early in Whistler. She explained that one of her friends was putting on the show and perhaps she could hook me up with one. I was excited to say the least.
Mount Wroclai
As I headed to meet Judith I kept pondering the words “hook up” in my head. Did she mean for free? Couldn’t be. Free? I dunno. Not wanting to look like a total creep, I made a call to my friend Jon who I had recently done some video work for which would soon earn me $300, money that should probably go to rent.
“Hey Jon.”
“David! What’s up dude?”
“Uh, not much. Are you going to that Beirut show?”
“Uh maybe, why? You calling about tickets?” He was already on to me.
“Um. No I don’t think I need a ticket… but I was going to see if you could spot me some of that money? that 300? Judith said she was hooking me up with a ticket and I’m dead broke. I don’t wanna look like a total jerk and not have any money for it”. Jon obliged and he said I could grab a couple bucks off his girl who was headed to the show as well.
Nantes
Somewhat pleased with the currant situation I made my way to Seven Eleven to grab some candy with what little change I did have in my pocket. For kicks I stuck my card in the bank machine. I typed in my code and followed ATM protocol with the skill and ease of a strung out gambler striking the handle of a worn out slot machine. To my surprise it dispensed $40. Things were looking up! I got the receipt. Minus $446.00. Oh right… over draft. My artificial high was temporarily diminished.
I met Judith in Gas town where she was having drinks with some old friends. I looked at my phone; it was 9:46. The show started at 10:30.
“We’re waiting for grace.” Said Judith answering my question before I had a chance to ask it.
“Grace?” (Grace was Jon’s girl friend) “Perfect.”
Grace pulled up in a cab and we got in. “Dave, I only have $50 is that alright?”
Judith looked at me “You need money? Why didn’t you ask?”
I felt embarrassed but I hid it well “Oh thanks.” I said trying to laugh “That’s cool I guess my over draft was a bit bigger than I thought.” More forced laughter. “But thanks Grace, you’re a sweat heart”.
Brandenburg
The cab pulled up outside the Commodore on Granville Street and a panhandler opened our door for us.
“Uhhh thanks dude.” Knowing that I didn’t even have change for the cab let alone for him.
“Why did we take a cab… its so close.” I said to the girls who were digging in their purses for change. They gave me an awkward glance. I was new to the city and apparently this was a dumb question.
“Trust us that walk would have been really long.” said Judith as she gave the panhandler a dirty look.
I always kinda get nervous before I go to shows. I don’t know why, shit just gets surreal and I’m always overcome by excitement. As we walked up the entrance, I was overwhelmed by the site of downtown concert types- tapered jeans, Taliban scarves, all the right accessories, cell phone pined to the ear, people that had that look like they had some where better to be. I suppose in a sense I could be describing myself, I mean minus the scarf so I shake of my judgmental observations, take a deep breath and focus my tunnel vision at the ticket counter. Judith is already going through the proper procedure to get the tickets.
“Here you go man.” She says as he hands me my ticket.
“How much are they?” I respond somewhat knowing that I won’t have to pay for it.
“Nothing. I guess Malcolm put us on the guest list”. (Malcolm was her friend who was putting on the show). I looked at her with a dopey look on my face as I carefully and thankfully grabbed the ticket. “Sweet.” I smiled. We walked inside.
Postcards from Italy
Once inside I received the unfortunate news that I would have to check both my video and picture camera that I had brought to document the event for the blog; the blog that you are now reading. Great. An amateur move, I didn’t realize I’d need a press pass. Fuck it. I couldn’t be brought down though, not tonight. I looked around; the commodore didn’t seem that packed. I was excited about this. Before I knew it there was a manage of horns and Beirut’s Zach Condon was up on stage whaling away in his powerful and emotionally nuanced voice. We rushed up to the front of the stage and found our spots. The show was magical. I danced, I clapped, I even shouted and yelled. A wave of nostalgia poured over me as the band played songs from Gulag Orkesta, The Flying Cup Cub and gave us a taste of some new material. To top it all off I bumped into a photographer friend of Jon’s who shot a role of film during the evening and agreed to email me a photo for my blog.
Sunday Smile/ Elephant Gun
“Wow. Imagine that,” I thought. “Now if only I had some video clips.” Now as I write this on a late Sunday night, do you know what I found when I googled “Beirut At the Commodore”? That’s right, pretty much the whole show on You Tube.
So what the moral to this story? I’m not sure, but some how if you stay positive and keep your spirits high things do tend to work out. That and listening to the inspiring sounds of Beirut makes life want to work in your favor. Gota love that.
