Amanda Aikman, Managing Editor

So, things were looking pretty bleak. Since the bulk of my finances were tied up in “food,” “shelter,” and other such extravagances, I was forced
at the last minute to back out of my Bumbershoot plans. I know, I know, my life is a series of cruel and unjust punishments, but before you get

too worked up on my behalf, let me assure you that this particular black cloud turned out to contain a rather lovely silver lining.

You see, the primary reason I was so eagerly anticipating Bumbershoot this year was because I had discovered that Crooked Fingers would be per-
forming. Who’s Crooked Fingers, you ask? Well, they are a super fabulous band headed up by former Archers of Loaf lead singer, Eric Bachmann.

They sing real pretty songs about all my favourite subjects: drinking, crying, loving, hating, drinking, and yes, drinking.

Anyway, long story short, as | was moping about my neighbourhood one afternoon in late August, cursing the
evil people at Visa for getting me into my current financial pickle, I was struck dumb by a sign from God. Oh
sure, it may have looked like a poster at the Broadway Skytrain station advertising the fact that Crooked
Fingers were coming to Vancouver, but I’m pretty sure that God put it there. The best part? It was not only a
Crooked Fingers show; it was a “solo” performance by Mr. Crooked Fingers himself, Eric Bachmann. The
Lord really does work in mysterious ways.

When Sept 10 finally rolled around, I made my way in the pouring rain to Vancouver's tiny Media Club.
Fearing that everyone else was as excited about the evening’s festivities as I was, I made sure to arrive ridiculously
early to obtain a choice stage-viewing seat. Turns out Crooked Fingers may not be quite as hot with the kids today
as I had initially assumed. The joint remained pretty vacant as openers, Sparrow, flapped their musical wings for the ¥
appreciative, albeit sparse, crowd of onlookers.

By the time Eric Bachmann, the lanky elder statesmen of indie rock, ambled onto the small stage, the club had
filled up nicely, and there was one patron in particular who tried his best to compensate for any inadequacies in crowd
size. This guy, who I had luckily managed to stand right next to, was a full-fledged member of that fraternity of obnoxious,
super fans that can make for an extremely challenging concert-going experience. He yelled, he danced, he whooped, he
hollered, he sang along loudly to every song (even the new ones he obviously didn’t know the words to), he incessantly bel-
lowed out requests, and continuously offered puzzling shouts of encouragement like “tonight’s your night!” and “yes,
indeed!” as Bachmann played. At one point, after Bachmann made several attempts to explain to the annoying young

man that he could not play “Broken Man” because he didn’t have the guitar he
needed, he finally relented and gave the irritating fellow the keys to his van,
saying that if the guy went out to the van and retrieved his guitar, he would
play the song for him. A risky proposal it seemed (had Bachmann given me
the keys, his van and guitar would be going for big bucks
on eBay by now), but the guy actually returned. Go
figure. And as annoying as he was, I have to admit I’m grateful
to that dweeb, because “Broken Man” is a really beautiful
song, and it was a treat to hear it live again.

f,

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

from the upcoming Crooked Fingers album, which he
claims is scheduled for release in Feb 2005, and he was
even kinder to grace us with a number of fan favourites
like “New Drink for the Old Drunk,” and “Bad Man
Coming.” Admittedly, the novelty of seeing Bachmann solo
began to pale in comparison to the spectacle of Bachmann
with a full band, but there were certainly moments of
beauty that stood out during his performance. Like
» when he played “Chumming the Ocean” from the
Archers of Loaf album, A/ the Nations Airports, ot
when he donned a black velvet cape for a number at
the piano (he said that some kids dream about
being in a rock and roll band, but he had
always dreamed about
“ wearing a cape and
, & playing the
piano).
“ bs After two
y & hours of top-
drawer entertainment,
Annoying Audience Guy (AAG) led, or attempt-
ed to lead, the crowd in a military-march sounding chant
of “Ain’t nobody goin’ home...Er-ic...Bach-mann,” which resulted in
one encore, most likely just to get him to shut up. Presumably, it worked,
although I can’t say for sure, because, contrary to AAG’s chant, I went
home before it ended.

*
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Bachmann was kind enough to grace us with a few songs

   
   
    
   
    
   
 
 
    
  
 

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Kali Thurber, A&E Edito

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