Caitlin Rose
Bitterzoet, Amsterdam, The Netherlands
February 14, 2011

recording:
Type: Audience (master), recorded front of house, 2 metres back from the ceiling-mounted left PA stack.
Source: 2 x DPA 4060 mics > DPA MMA6000 amplifier (100 Hz low-cut filter) > Edirol R-09HR recorder (44.1 kHz/16 bit WAV)
Lineage: Audacity 1.3.12-beta (tracks split, light dynamic compression applied, fades added) > FLAC (compression level 8) [libFLAC 1.2.1 20070917]
bu ianmacd
remaster; FLAC > TLH (correct sector boundary errors) > remame to etree standards
remaster by tom

01. [preamble]
02. Learning To Ride
03. Own Side
04. [banter]
05. New York
06. Spare Me
07. [banter]
08. Shanghai Cigarettes
09. Coming Up
10. That's Alright
11. For The Rabbits
12. Sinful Wishing Well
13. Answer In One Of These Bottles
14. [encore break]
15. Marie
16. [encore break]
17. Shotgun Wedding
18. Docket

Running time: 64m 40s

TAPER'S NOTES:

Somewhere in a parallel universe, the eternally youthful 16 year old me is peering through a tear in the space-time continuum at the man I am today and shaking his head in arrant disdain.

You see, I turned down the chance to see Wire -- you know, 'Pink Flag', 'Kidney Bingos', 'Drill', etc. -- at the Paradiso and instead biked over to Bitterzoet to bear witness to 23 year old country singer, Caitlin Rose.

Yes, you read that right: country. That most vacuous of musical genres, whose hackneyed odes to heartbreak, drowning one's sorrows, pick-up trucks and life on the farm are the hearty fodder of politically naÃ¯ve, gun-toting, plaid-shirted drivers of shit-encrusted vehicles with ridiculously large tyres; the kind of person who, after consuming an obscenely large rump steak, spends the rest of the evening digging at the crevices of his teeth with the point of a steak knife.

It's the kind of thing they must use in Guantanamo Bay to extract false confessions, so why subject myself to an evening of drawl and twang, when I had the opportunity to see the institution that is Wire, in their latest
reinvented incarnation.

The 16 year old me looks on in scornful disgust, the theory that people do, indeed, turn into sad, tasteless old farts when they reach middle age having been empirically proved over the course of nigh on thirty years.

The nearly 44 year old self, on the other hand, might contest that I have merely become more open-minded, enlightened even, by my continuing musical odyssey through past and present. Too old to bullshit anyone, too old to care what anyone else thinks, I have no-one left to answer to but myself.

Sad, undiscerning old tosser or objective, open-minded appreciator of all good music, regardless of image, fashion or style? What a luxuriant thought with which to pamper myself.

Despite the hopeful wisdom of my years, it does give me pause for thought that I went to see a girl with a Fleetwood Mac cover in her set (Stevie Nicks era, not Peter Green) and who recently said that she'd like to perform a duet with Kris Kristofferson. Hmm.

Ten years ago, I married a Billy Joel fan. I'm not sure which detail my 16 year old self would have found more repugnant: the fact that I bowed to social convention enough to marry anyone, full stop, or that I lowered my standards enough to strike up a serious relationship with a Billy Joel fan.

But I digress. You didn't come here to read about my mid-life crisis, did you?

I can't explain it, other than by saying that Caitlin Rose makes good music. She writes bittersweet songs (so appropriate, then, that she would play in Bitterzoet) about life's hard experiences, the lyrics of which belie her tender years.

The Nashville twang is there, as is the pedal steel guitar (played by a lad from Essex, if you can believe that), but her songs transcend the safety of the format with their melodies and serated-edged lyrics.

You probably wouldn't hear Dolly Parton sing, "I've got a fresh pack, I've got a red Bic; the surgeon general can suck on my dick," would you?

This earthy prose, delivered in a strong, plaintive voice to an infectious melody has seen Caitlin's debut album make the higher reaches of many a Best Of 2010 list. These aren't mere songs, they are the tales of a young woman's life. This is Caitlin's ongoing autobiography, set to music.

We were treated to most of 'Own Side Now, plus a trio of songs from 'Dead Flowers'. Linda Ronstadt's 'Faithless Love' was on the list as pre-encore set-closer, but wasn't played for reasons that weren't stated.

In spite of being sick, Caitlin gave us an hour of her time and did her best to warm up an audience who were rather stiff at first, but loosened up in the second half of the set. There seemed to be an unusually high number of English people in the crowd, which hadn't managed to sell the place out. Caitlin mentioned to me afterwards that they had sold about 120 tickets.

Caitlin tried to call it a day after her cover of Randy Newman's 'Marie', but the Bitterzoet's awkward design left her no way out but along the edge of the audience, where she was accosted by several people and persuaded to return to the stage for one more song.

That one song stretched to 1Â½ songs when Caitlin had to abort 'Shotgun Wedding' on account of having forgotten the lyrics. This clearly made her rather self-conscious, but she recovered her composure to finish with the lyrically very entertaining 'Docket'.

Bollocks to the 16 year old me. This old fart feels no guilt in having forsaken Wire for Caitlin Rose last night.

In a departure from my usual practice, I've applied some light dynamic compression to the recording to even out the volume. It was just too quiet in places. I have trodden lightly, though, and am convinced that others will perceive the change to be an improvement on the original.

The sound quality of the recording is excellent. I stood directly in front of the PA and this vantage point remained unobstructed all evening: ideal recording circumstances.

Enjoy!
