Live-Blogging Rigby
"I thought I'd start with a little history lesson, since it is the middle of the day and you should be in school."
This is Amy Rigby, feet apart and her guitar slung around her neck, telling what she'd just chosen to kick off her noontime show at the World Cafe.
"I'm like Rasputin/I get back up again."
It's just Rigby, her guitarist, bassist and drummer, and a several score of XPN listeners. I'm up in the balcony, riding the wireless. Never been to one of these. To save $2 on a bagged lunch I spent $50 to sign up as a listener. Need to talk to an accountant.
She's doing her best to play, not talk. It seems to be work. "If over 30, perhaps you've gotten involved with someone who has a history and past," she says. She tells how she wrote the next song for an ex boyfriend - then, says, "let's just do the song."
A couple songs later the band uncorks one, with its (title and) chorus, "I don't want to talk about love anymore." Band rocks.
Helen Leicht comes on stage. Interviews her a bit for the radio, about what it was like to go from Pittsburgh to NYC and run into people she idolized at CBGB's bathroom. Rigby, 46, says how her 16-yr-old daughter, Hazel, isn't even embarrassed by her anymore.
Then it's time for her anthem, "Are we ever gonna have sex again." ("Maybe I can squeeze you in, between the PTA and CNN.") Just before the end, the plug to her amp falls out. She stops. Lingers.
"Just hold on a minute," she says, "it's almost in." I need a cigarette. And I don't smoke.
Dan, if you start smoking at your age I'll find your den of inequity and make you feel a guilt far greater than that lady could ever muster in a man.