So, How Was Wilderness?

I don’t know.

I arrived at Union Pool at approximately 10:45pm, slightly intoxicated. The bar was more crowded than I expected it to be on a Thursday night, especially with so many music people down in Austin. When I arrived to the ticket table, there seemed to be a bit of confusion. One drunk fool seemed unable to grasp the concept of paying to get in, or more specifically, that money has to be handed to the right person. The fool offered me $10, and I accepted, warning him that I’ll take the money, but I can’t really do anything for him. With he and his friend totally confused, my lady friend and I slipped in front and I told the ticket guy that I was on the list. Not seeing my name, he offered to sell me the last 2 tickets left. We looked at each other and agreed we didn’t want t let that other fool and his friend get the last 2 tickets, so we paid the money.

Inside the space, it was crowded—a little too crowded. A colossal giant stood in front of me, and all I could see was the top of a stand up bass. As much as my sight line of Nat Baldwin was hindered, my ears were also disrupted by the constant chattering around me. Behind me, a guy with a rather obnoxious tone to his voice stated, “I like their sound.” With him talking about how much he liked their sound, I was having a difficult time developing my own impression of the seemingly avant jazz sound. Oh, the irony of not being able to hear something because someone else is jabbering on about how much they like it. But this is an ironic town, so I guess it makes sense.

More people pushed their way through and the claustrophobia and frustration increased. One girl managed to squeeze in front of me to steal my amazing sightline. Turned to the side, speaking to her boyfriend(?), her breasts consistently rubbed against my elbow. Meanwhile I was writing on a small piece of paper, “What the hell is going on?” I’ve rubbed elbows with people before, but never with my chest.

At this point I realized that this would be my experience of the night, and nothing Wilderness could do would change that. It was crowded, I was tired and frustrated, so I did what any good journalist would do, and left before the band I was there to see even took the stage.

At the most I was inside Union Hall for a total of 30 minutes. Spending $20 for 2 tickets to see a fraction of a set by the band I wasn’t there to see, actually sort of felt worth it. If a singles phone chat line can cost $10 for 15 minutes, then surely relative to that monetary scale, it was worth it.

We came home, and turned on my favorite Wilderness track “End of Freedom” and had our peaceful one song Wilderness concert, which was probably more enjoyable than the real thing.