So, last night I decided to skip “Leadership, Ethics and Decision-Making” (or, to be ironic, I made the executive decision to not attend) and go to see a show at Cafe Montmartre. Ana Egge with Martha Berner, Julie Moffitt, Arrica Rose. The three ladies performed first in an odd Round-Robin way – the first (Martha Berner) was good, the second (Arrica Rose) sucked my will to live a little bit, and the third (Julie Moffitt) has a voice like an angel . . . a whiskey-drinking, cigarette-smoking angel. Lovely. Got her CD.
During this set, things at the Cafe were relatively quiet. Odd, but quiet. Why odd? Our waitress was a bit truculent, and it always took forever to get drinks, pie, the check, whatever. And the woman sitting at the table next to us asked for such a detailed description of Annie’s caipirinha (the National Drink of Brazil! Sugarcane liquor with actual sugar and limes) that Annie just finally handed her drink over so the woman could taste it. And no one knew how to make a mint julep. And we were having dinner right next to two of the three openers. I mean, right next to. Sara’s antennae were quivering in full stalker mode.
But still, fun. And quiet.
As soon as Ana Egge (singer/songwriter with a country flair and a pixie cut) got on stage, the place was packed with the loudest freaking people you have ever seen. The poor woman is trying to perform, just her and her acoustic guitar, and this room of sorority girls and drunken bank clerks explodes with raucous laughter.
She flat out said that people were being too loud for her quieter, finger-picking songs, so she was going to stick with her rocker songs. People were so horrible that she ended up cutting her set short. It’s such a shame – I was really enjoying her music, too.
So here’s what I have to say: IF you go to a place where you have to pay a cover charge to hear the music . . . LISTEN TO THE FREAKING MUSIC! If you want to talk with your friends, that’s great . . . but go somewhere else. You’re bothering me.