So, how was the new multimedia Alice’s Restaurant?
Mixed. Most of the video footage was clips from the 1969 movie. Interesting, especially if you haven’t seen the movie in years, but not very fulfilling. Sort of the audiovisual equivalent of a Krispy Kreme doughnut. I’ll admit that it was good to be reminded that Officer Obie played himself in the movie (“If anyone’s going to make a fool out of me, it might as well be me”). Using the footage and talking about Obie also gave Arlo the opportunity to riff on bringing opposite ends of the political spectrum together, a sentiment that’s as timely today as in the Summer of Love. On the whole, though, I’d have preferred to see more archival photos and unstaged footage.
The presence of the screen did prove useful at several points during the evening. It was used sparingly, but well to show a long-lost animated film of The Motorcycle Song (aka Significance of the Pickle), lyrics for a couple of singalongs, and animated backgrounds for Coming Into Los Angeles.
As for the music–and that’s what most of the audience was there for–Arlo acquitted himself well. No Reuben Clamzo, but he did do Me and My Goose with an accompanying slideshow of illustrations from the children’s book.
He had a bit of a memory lapse during, of all things, Alice’s Restaurant, skipping directly from dumping the garbage to going to court, but he circled around to cover the arrest and the twenty-seven eight-by-ten, color, glossy photographs, as the person running the video scrambled to keep up.
Anniversary tours are aimed at fans who haven’t seen the performer recently, so the set list will generally lean on the most popular songs. So we got the previously-mentioned Coming Into Los Angeles and City of New Orleans. We also got Darkest Hour, Last Train, and Highway In the Wind. Arlo also did When a Soldier Makes It Home, but interestingly, he didn’t do Victor Jara, his other major perennially-topical song.
I was pleased to hear the folk process was alive. Arlo made little effort to make the songs sound “just like the album” or some definitive version. No major changes, but almost every song had some changes in emphasis, minor lyrical tweaks, or melodic variations. Oddly, the one song that had almost no changes was This Land Is Your Land. An unwillingness to tamper with his father’s music seems unlikely, nor does Arlo seem the sort to keep a cultural icon on a pedestal. Perhaps he didn’t want to make it too difficult a singalong, though that shouldn’t prevent some musical variation. Whatever the reason, though, he played it straight from the elementary school songbook, including in his choice of verses. In the past, Arlo has sung several verses; this time, he stuck with a couple of the best known, and used the song as a springboard for a minor riff on the song’s somewhat paradoxical international popularity.
“But what about the merchandise?” I hear a voice in the back of the room asking.
Of course there was merchandise. CDs, naturally, posters, magnets, and the obligatory tour T-shirts. Most of the goodies can be purchased through his website, but there was one item that seems to be a tour-only item:
Yes, there is now a Group W Bench T-shirt. Maggie is considering tie-dying hers. That seems appropriate, but I think I’ll keep mine as-is. Not mint-in-lack-of-box: I fully intend to wear it, but having different backgrounds will simplify Laundry Day.
The crowd’s age was skewed upward, heavy on the Baby Boomers. I didn’t expect a strong turnout of the younger generations, and I don’t suppose that, even had they been there, that many would have gone forth to preach the gospel of Arlo. But a good time was had by all, and if the tour is coming to your vicinity, I recommend it.
Arlo Guthrie’s Alice’s Restaurant 50th Anniversary Tour may not change the world, but for one night you may not care. And that’s no bad thing.
I still remember the first time I heard the dong. 1970s FM radio was special. No fanfare. Nothing special. Just an Arlo Guthrie song the dj wanted to play.
I don’t remember much 70s FM–heck, I don’t remember much about the 70s at all (some days I’m doing well if I still remember breakfast at dinner time)–but by all accounts, yeah those were the glory days of the medium.
Can you imagine what would happen if someone tried to play a new twenty minute song on FM today? Goddess defend us from the lawsuits over ruined commutes! Fortunately, today we have other venues.
And, for FM, there’s always Shel Silverstein>.
(everyone has 26 seconds, don’t they?)
They’re supposed to have fifteen minutes, but what with
inflationshortening attention spans, twenty-six seconds may be generous.
That’s right. I was out at the Giants and Dodgers game last night. Talk about catering to short attention spans. The people who choreograph in between innings are ruthless with their stimuli assaults.
Don’t forget that the new pace of play rules limit the amount of time they have between innings. Casual fans are conditioned to expect dot races, kiss cams, and other such fare, so teams can’t just drop them; they have to squeeze them into the available time.
So yeah, it feels a bit rushed, but don’t worry. You’ll be used to it by the end of the season, and you’ll hardly notice when they cut the time between innings to 45 seconds next year.
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