"We couldn't all be cowboys, so some of us are clowns. Some of us are dancers on the midway, we roam from town to town. I hope that everybody can find a little flame. Me, I say my prayers, then I light myself on fire, and I walk out on the wire once again..." ~counting crows

I ushered at an off-Broadway show called Circle Mirror Transformation on Saturday. It's about an adult acting class at a community theatre, and it's hilarious and touching. Isherwood raved about it in the New York Times a few days ago in an article called "Some Plays Can Twinkle Without Stars." Like Isherwood I am often frustrated by stunt casting on Broadway, and it's great to see plays like Circle Mirror Transformation succeed without any big names. Here are some nice quotes from Isherwood's article:

"Circle Mirror Transformation, a new comedy by the young writer Annie Baker presented by Playwrights Horizons, is the kind of unheralded gem that sends people into the streets babbling and bright-eyed with the desire to spread the word....Bask I did recently, and emerged with the same giddy sense of discovery, the same almost proprietary need to ensure that this small, quirky, immensely lovable new play does not go unnoticed by theatergoers in perennial search of fresh voices and boundary-bending experiments."

Luckily people are rushing to see this show. It was sold out last night and I had to sit on the steps (which was perfectly fine; I had a good view). There were quite a few celebrities there. I tore the tickets of Victor Garber (love him!), Martin Short, and Sam Rockwell. I touched all their hands while ripping their tickets and handing them Playbills, and I am proud that I did no fangirling whatsoever. Our conversations consisted of my saying, "The show runs an hour and fifty minutes with no intermission, please turn off your cell phone, and enjoy the show" to each of them and each of them saying "Thank you" in return. Quite scintillating conversation, I know. Anyway, it was a great night of theatre and I'm glad to see a small yet wonderful show doing so well.

I was alerted to this on Crowstown and thought I'd share it here. I'm sure you know I'm obsessed with Counting Crows. One song that I love of theirs is "Goodnight Elisabeth." It's just so sad (I also love the sequel to it, "I Wish I Was a Girl"). At first it may sound like a nice song because of the melody, but it's such a bitter, depressed, angry song that happens to be couched in a gorgeous melody. I have 35 different recordings of "Goodnight Elisabeth" on my iTunes, and I know I have more on bootleg CDs that aren't on my computer. I am proud to say that I was at the concert where the band played what seems to be the longest recorded version of the song yet (clocking in at just a little over seventeen minutes). I know the song well. Really well. But trust me, you don't have to know it well to recognize what I'm about to tell you to listen for.
So, a new Son Volt album, American Central Dust, came out in July. There's a song on it called "Exile."
Listen to "Exile," then listen to "Goodnight Elisabeth" (I'm posting a few versions of it just because it's so awesome and the band always adds different alternates so each version is different). Obviously you'll see that just the beginnings sound incredibly similar. Questions:
1. Is it an intentional rip-off on Son Volt's part, or do you think it's subconscious?
2. Is it okay to write a song that sounds so similar to another song by another band?

American Central Dust is a good album, by the way.

Listen to about the first 30 seconds of "Exiles" (until he starts singing) and then move on to the first version of "Goodnight Elisabeth."

Get Your Own Player!