There may be two Big Dippers out there, vcialis 40mg but let’s talk about the one from Boston in the 80’s: the one that would influence future indy pop bands with their addictive licks and unforgettably energetic party ballads; the one that ended up buried away in the sands of history like pirate gold the moment they got on a label faster than you can say The Wrens; the one that took like a phoenix when their popularity surged in 2008 and brought back constellation consciousness when they signed with Merge records.
Yes, medicine that Big Dipper.
Landing a show in Middle East, see they brought with them the old and the new, specifically the new material from their latest album, Big Dipper Crashes on The Platinum Planet. Needless to say, old fans and new poured in to see what these men from the stars could bring, and it’s easy to say that they not only had enough for everyone, but they brought thirds.
I should say that this show was like a two in one slam for me for one reason: one of their openers, The Zambonis: the best hockey-themed rock band you could ever hope to find. Now, unlike Big Dipper, I actually knew The Zambonis, even as a kid. If you watched Nickelodeon in the 90s, or played NHL Hitz in the early 2000s, there’s a good chance you also familiarized yourself with them as well without even knowing it.
So yes, there was hockey. Yes, there were jerseys and helmets and more hockey metaphors than all the fingers in the Middle East that day. There was also a monkey in a Bruins jersey and, yes, he danced even in the audience. No, there was no flung poop but yes, there were hats flung to the audience that singer Dave Schneider found questionable: depending on your fashion sense you could call that poop-ish.
At the energy they brought to their variety of swinging hockey rock, it was no surprise that an encore came around along with some remarks from Dave that they needed to catch their breath first. Kind of disappointed it didn’t land a segue into “My Heart Needs a Shot of Cortisone,” but they still brought it and the audience smiles went as far as goalposts by the end of it.
By the time our favorite/only hockey nuts left the stage, a new chant surged. “Ollie! Ollie! Ollie!” Throughout setup, cheers for drummer Jeff Oliphant spread like a summer fire. Big Dipper made sure to retaliate to their eager audience with “Lord Scrumptious” from their new album before showcasing the rest of their new material to flagrant fanfare, even one with a volunteer from the audience (Princess Warior). Of course, along the way the band mixed in some of the classics like “All Coming Out Together,” “Dead River,” “Bony Knees of Nothing,” “Humason,” “Loch Ness Monster,” “Bells of Love,” “She’s Fetching,” “Younger Bums,” “Hey Mr. Lincoln,” and “You’re Not Patsy.” The audience obliged it further by singing the lyrics they knew by heart, either reliving those glory days or branding new ones to the music they knew so well.
Bassist Tom Brewitt overdid his strings leading to an intermission as they hunted for a replacement. Crisis quickly averted, lead singer/guitarist Bill Goffrier offered to oblige a Facebook fan’s request and sang “Meet the Witch” before continuing onward, his gesticulating body swaying to the music.
But all good things must come to an end. Or do they?
“Don’t you know people are trying to sleep?” Bill facetiously quipped. It wouldn’t be a proper Big Dipper night without playing one of their all-time fan favorites, “Ron Klaus Wrecked his House,” which had the added benefit of a letter telling the epilogue of past bandmate of The Embarrassments’ fame after that fateful day. Was that enough? NO! In one final gesture to the constellation-crazed crowd, they finished off the show with their newest song to their discography canon, “New Machine” before calling it a night.
Alas, even the stars must pass the horizon eventually, but like all celestial bodies that pass through the night, so will future generations be guided by their meaning. If these stars of rock portend a future feature of more Dipper-driven shows where we will rock out on a world where hockey monkeys evolved from man, then I for one, welcome this cosmic beckoning as much as our black and gold-clad simian overlords.
Photo Credit: Donald Lee