Unwicked

Dreamboat and Lara Ewen And The Unstrung Orchestra performed at Spike Hill in Williamsburg on November 1, and it’s been a couple of days since I saw them and I am supposed to be cleaning my apartment, so what better thing to do than to sit down and write.

Dreamboat is Kelli Rae Powell and Craig Chesler. I was lucky enough to witness their stage debut (as Dreamboat) back in September. They were brand new to me. I recall clearly how impressed I was with the songs. This time around I was doubly-impressed by the quality of the songwriting. Since seeing them that first time, I have had a few opportunities to see them separately, so while I am accustomed to the dizzying charm of Ms. Powell and the old-school smoothness of Mr. Chesler, their performance at Spike Hill still captivated me.

By “accustomed”…I know that when I listen to Kelli Rae, I’m going to be lifted out of whatever mess I’m mired in. It’s impossible to defend against her. When I listen to Craig, I know I can forget about my worries. His passion for music is a source of joy and comfort. Sort of like J.G. Ballard’s epigram about garlic: “If you can smell garlic, everything is all right.” So it is with these two and the music of Dreamboat.

Lara Ewen and The Unstrung Orchestra played the set before Dreamboat. I’d heard a few of her tracks via the internet, but live is always better, and this was a good night to be at Spike Hill. I’m actually listening to her CD Ghosts and Gasoline as I write this. Once again, showing up is the best reward. More good music has come my way.

Last night, I took a chance and went to the first night of the Williamsburg Live Songwriter Competition. It was surprisingly not awful. I suppose I should not have gone with low expectations, especially considering the concentration of talented artists in this area, and also because I went primarily to see Craig Chesler and Ellia Bisker (Sweet Soubrette)–they were both wonderful, by the way– but I stayed for the entire night.

People can slam Williamsburg until the cows come home, but the truth is this little burgh (and Brooklyn in general) has a high concentration of quality artists. I love living here. Last night, I had the opportunity to enjoy the efforts of many spirited songwriters, even though I disagreed strongly with the results of the judging.

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I’m going to stop here. While I have more to express, if I don’t push this machine aside and get to cleaning my apartment, I’ll never forgive myself.

I look out the window and there’s sunshine. Marathoners are out there now, winding through the five boroughs of New York City, and my feet want to join them. Maybe this stack of mail can wait another few hours.

I want to go out and play.