Months ago, I tried to buy tickets to the Sufjan Stevens show in Berkeley, but it was already sold-out. Yesterday morning, I trolled Craig's List to see if anyone was selling their tickets. There were many evil doers asking the desperate to "name their price" but there was a post from someone selling them at face value, even minus a few ruthless ticket fee bucks. What the heck, I called and left a message. AMAZINGLY, the phone rang an hour later, asking me if I could come pick them up in the Mission. ZIP I went. I was pleased that the seller was a nice guy who seemed my age (or even older) which made me feel less freakish.
The Chef was a little worried that going out mid-week would cut into our couch-sitting-with-kittens time, but I convinced him that it would be worth it. Sufjan! Christians! Songs about the great state of Illinois! I threw in dinner at Chenery Park and we were off to the BART station.
The show was spectacular. My Brightest Diamond opened and (while I already was digging their debut CD) I was very impressed with the sheer force of Shara Worden's voice. If only she would enter and win "American Idol" with her cover of "Use Me." Then came Sufjan and orchestra dressed in butterfly wings, with the addition of the Pacific Mozart Ensemble ?!?! Throw in shimmering silver backdrop (with movie screen) , and a few blow up Santas and Supermans surrounding the speakers -- and, again, I felt lucky to be there. "Get a load of that!" I whispered to The Chef.
Highlights? The massive vocal choir wall of sound, songs about birds, stories about summer camp, big white nerdy tennis shoes, cello players, banjos and the painfully perfect "Casimir Pulaski Day."
During Sufjan's disfunctional family carol "That Was The Worst Christmas Ever" a hundred of the blow-up Santas came tumbling off the balcony above us. "Santas!" I happily exclaimed to The Chef.
There was another round of cascading blow-up Supermans during "The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts" that were then bounced around by the audience like beach balls. Afterwards, Sufjan said that they had spent hours blowing them all up, and at the time it seemed that there were many more than were actually tossed. I wonder if they get a discount bulk rate on inflatables.
This morning I called and left another message for the guy who had to give up his tickets and thanked him again for being so nice as to 1) not scalp them and 2) allow us to have such an enchanting evening of music.
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