Early this morning, I dreamed about seeing Overseas play a show. It took place at the YMCA where I work; specifically, the band set up behind the front desk that I supervise. There were about 7 members, including a guy who just intertwined and then unwound the stems of cherries. After the opener, I went outside and made a phone call to a friend of mine. We were still talking several songs into Overseas' set, so I finally ended the call and went inside. While outside, I'd been trying to determine who was on bass and who on drums, Dave or Will. [An aside ... the friend I was talking to on the phone in this dream did actually prevent me from seeing most of Centro-Matic's set when they co-headlined a show with Bazan at the Local 506 in Chapel Hill almost three summers ago. We had gone cliff jumping the afternoon of the show at the quarry in the Eno River State Park outside of Durham, and one of her ears started bothering her almost immediately afterwards. We went to dinner in Chapel Hill and the pain got worse, so I ended up driving her to a pharmacy in Durham because, somehow, not a single pharmacy was open in Chapel Hill. We got back to the venue in time to see 1 1/2 Centro songs, and then she rustled around in her pocket book and took flash photos with her smart phone throughout Dave's set. And we were stuck in the back when I'd wanted to be up front watching Fitts play keys with his feet.]
For some reason, Will wasn't able to attend this Overseas show, so a girl (I think) was singing his parts. Matt and Bubba Kadane were rotund and looked like volunteer firemen from my impoverished home town in rural western North Carolina. During a break, I was chatting with Dave next to where Y members scan in, and he said something about there being a lot of moving parts to this band.
Criminals are the people we punish for being a nuisance; artists are the people we reward for being a nuisance; successful businessmen are criminals disguised as artists.