I’ve seen Rhian Sheehan a bunch of times. And it’s always been great – always a variation of the same sorts of moods and feels and vibe; many of the same pieces even. But it always has a new flavour too. So it’s never (just) repetition. I’ve seen this sort of show from him develop across 10 years or so – from the Downstage venue to the Opera House and then on to the Michael Fowler Centre.

This was glorious. Beautiful. Wondrous. But it was also my least favourite of the shows I’ve seen by Rhian. Not his fault. Not the fault of any of the musicians on stage either. The new album that was just out – A Quiet Divide – is lovely too. So…not the fault of the album either.

The thing was simply this: It was impossible to really lose myself in it when I had to be up at 4am the next day. Fucking job I had at the time. With its stupid-cunt 5am starts. Even on the weekend. It really ruined this gig. I sat there. Watching my watch. Seeing the time creep on past 9pm and to 10…starting to feel a desperation to get home. Knowing at the same time I was seeing and hearing something really special.
Stubs is an occasional feature here at Off The Tracks – looking back through theticket-stub box and remembering how the show went down.