Why That Was What I Needed to Hear

The Avett Brothers were just on Conan and they sang the most beautiful rendition of “Murder in the City” I have ever heard.  I almost missed it, going with my standard 2-hour block of Fraiser reruns on the Hallmark Channel (they bleep out every cuss word but ‘damn’—no joke), but remembered at 11:44PM, flipping over to TBS just in time to catch the last bit of Conan’s interview with some chick on that new version of Dallas (the only reason it’s doing well is because the people who watched the original Dallas are mostly still alive and have no American Idol to watch in the summer).  When Conan introduced the band, he was holding a vinyl version of the EP, Gleam II, one of the Avetts’ older albums, which I’m listening to on repeat right now (when I say repeat, what I mean is that when it finishes I just hit play again because I don’t know how to turn on repeat on Windows Media Player).  I love that album, but was a little confused.  I was expecting something off their new yet-to-be-released album (can’t wait!) or at least I And Love And You.  The album is more or more less just Scott and Seth too.  Conan said they were going to play “Murder in the City”.  I was excited, but confused.  Almost always this song is played by either just the two brothers or by Scott himself.  This though, this was the whole band.  Scott, Seth, Bob, Joe, and the new drummer guy, Jacob on trombone.  What came out was probably one of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard.

It was all acoustic—Scott and Seth hunkered around a resonator mic in the middle of the stage with other mics strategically placed to pick up all the instruments.  Joe Kwon was on the far left with his cello, beside him Bob Crawford and his upright bass, and in the back right corner was Jacob Edwards, not on a drum kit but blowing on a trombone.  I wasn’t sure how they would adapt the song to the full band, but they did extremely well—well enough to the point where I almost wish they did it this way every time.  Joe’s cello work was immaculate and almost the driving effort behind the song—it basically left me speechless.  The surprising addition of the trombone was a nice subtle touch.  The only thing I thought that could improve was the vocals—I didn’t think Scott had quite the same power behind his voice as usual, though this could be because of the extra instruments and also because I’ve seen so many videos of him singing it solo, where there is much emphasis on his voice.  Also, I noticed Scott’s hair seemed much fluffier and dull rather than greasy and shiny, which I felt was unusual.

The first time I ever actually listed to “Murder in the City”, as in actually paid attention to the lyrics and the music and everything, I teared up a little.  I think had my mom not been sitting beside me, I probably would have during their performance on Conan.  I’m not ashamed to admit that.  It is a very powerful song and not the first song to make me feel that way.  I was driving through town and it came on shuffle.  I had to listen to it a second time just to make sure I actually heard what I heard.  I had to make sure I played it for my best friend, my little brother.  He loved it, and it became one of his favourites.  I don’t know how many times we’ve listened to that song.  We might not be blood-related and not have the same last name, but that song still means a lot to us.  I think it’s a song that everyone should listen to at least once in their lives.  This is the kind of song that changes peoples’ lives.  When you’ve written a song like that, that’s when you can retire.  But the Avett Brothers aren’t retiring anytime soon—they’re just going to write more songs like that.

When we went to the Avett Brothers’ show a couple weeks back we were really hoping to hear “Murder in the City”, but they didn’t play it.  Every time the condenser mic came out, we got excited in anticipation.  But the song never came.  Obviously, we were pretty bummed.  A couple days later, Joe tweeted the set list, which included “Murder in the City”.  I had to tweet back informing him that they didn’t play it.  He surprised me when he replied and said there are always alterations every night.  I tweeted back and told him it was unfortunate it had to be that song because the meaning it holds for my best friend and me.  He didn’t tweet back, though I didn’t really expect him to.  I know it’s crazy, but I’d like to think they sang that song for us.  It was an odd choice for a late night TV show—a slower song, or “dreary” as my mom described it—with bold, emotional lyrics.  And like I said, not a song intended for the entire band.  But for whatever reason, it was what they chose.  It’s because they knew that’s what I needed to hear.  I send my best friend a text telling him to turn on TBS and I hope he got it and was able to turn on TBS and hear it too because I think he needed to hear that song too—to remind us both of some things of which we need reminding.  Though we’re not actually related, we’re still brothers, and that’s a bond that is never broken.  Family is always there, no matter what, and no one and no force can change that.  Brotherhood is forever, whether by blood, marriage, fraternity.  Don’t ever forget that.  Sometimes there are bumps in the road, but everything will settle in the end.  In time, all will be well.  If you have a brother, find him and give him a hug.  Same for your sister, your mother, you father, your son or daughter.  You never know how long you’re going to have them.  Hug them and don’t let them go.  Last summer when the Avett Brothers were in Columbus we wanted to go and found tickets on Craigslist from a lady in Springfield whose brother had passed away recently.  I had said in the ad I wanted to take my little brother to his first concert.  Her email was brief, but it almost had me in tears.  She knows what this song is about; she was knows what I’m saying here.  It’s inevitable that you’ll have some kind of argument with a family member—most likely a sibling—throughout your life.  But in the end, it’s all petty.  Don’t ever let anything tarnish a relationship that is meant to be unbreakable.