Photo Cred: Cult Jam
Not a frequenter of the East Village as the LES is my playground, I ventured to Bleeker Street to the sit down and listen venue once known as The Village East. (Correction:Village Gate) Badly Drawn Boy and/or his advisors made an awesome choice in booking him there. While it is never fun to sit with six other strangers while popping tater tots, the semi quite audience allowed an intimate exchange between artist and audience.
One table mate commented at the start of the show "I hope this picks up". Agreeably the show got off to a slow start with his admission that he missed his 10 year old daughter and was tired of gigging. He fiddled with his guitars and monitor and engaged with the audience. At one point early into the show, a local man named Lawrence approached the stage and was told jokingly to F off.
The show did in fact pick up and in fact went on for an hour and a half. Were it not for the confines of G-d knows what that steers the end point of these shows, the Badly Drawn Boy show would have kept going. What a perfect closure awaited. With a little reflection to when he was 14 and a song changed his life, we all knew what was about to come. What we may not have seen coming was the overwhelming sense of oneness with the artist. One did not need to be a jersey shore teenager in angst to have been effected in the past or last night by "Thunder Road". I left with a little a tear in my eye and holding back a flood. Those new found friends at my table shared in the emotion. Were it not for lights on, get out gestures...we could have wallowed in our nostalgia for some time.
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