Until last week I didn’t know who Amanda Palmer was. I remember vaguely learning of the Dresden Dolls years ago, and might have watched them perform once on Conan O’Brien or another late-night show when I was in college. Still, I couldn’t place her as a member of that band, nor have I ever heard any of her solo work. Her online bio was intriguing and the concert was to occur in some friends’ living room, so I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Naturally, these things are bound to happen when one reaches the forefront of the rock community.
Not even knowing what Palmer looked like, I found myself in a typical Evan-awkward conversation with her shortly after arriving at the house. I was having a nice conversation with a professor from Texas who had driven all the way here for this event. We spoke about music, travel, and writing for a few minutes before he became engaged in conversation with the woman seated in between us and the countertop covered in homemade chocolate chip cookies. I tried my best not to intrude, instead choosing to eye the cookies and tune out their voices. Eventually they retired from conversation, and I was left munching on a cookie with the woman. She looked at my t-shirt and asked, “Where is Millburn?”
“New Jersey,” I said.
She smiled and responded, “I thought so. My mother is from there.”
I could have taken the conversation in an entirely different — and by that I mean normal — direction, but instead I made the mistake of saying, “I’m from Livingston — or, West Egg.” She looked confused, so I continued, “….and Millburn is East Egg.”
Silence.
“You know, like in The Great Gatsby?…”
Silence.
“…There’s, like, a kind of unspoken rivalry between the towns? Old money and new money?” At this point I think I realized I was babbling to this person I didn’t know. At some point I concluded by stating, “Anyway, it’s an analogy I use.” And with that, the woman stood up and left.
About three minutes later I realized the woman I was talking to Amanda Palmer. Before I could track her down and apologize for my lack of social skills, the party moved into the living room, where she situated herself in a vintage Ball Chair with her ukulele. Her collaborator, Jason Webley, chose to sit on the floor surrounded by his acoustic guitar case and accordion. They must have played for an hour, everything from an ill-fated attempt at “Fuck Tha Police” to a song whose title shares a lyric with the aforementioned N.W.A. song, “Do You Swear To Tell The Truth, The Whole Truth, And Nothing But The Truth So Help Your Black Ass.” She played two Radiohead covers, “Creep” and “Fake Plastic Trees.” Jason Webley played a very nice solo number. The pair performed an accordion cover of “Billie Jean,” and a song called “Elephant Elephant” from their collaborative album Evelyn Eveyln, in which the duo perform as conjoined twins. It was a very unique and fun show. I enjoyed the music and banter immensely. Hopefully I’ll be able to hear the Evelyn Evelyn album in its entirety soon.
I stayed after most of the party guests departed to chat with friends and meet some new people. A game was played called, “Things Roger Waters Hasn’t Heard Of,” in which the players must come up with increasingly popular cultural personalities or memes that Roger Waters does not recognize. For Example: RuPaul.
I wanted to head over to Largo to see Palmer and Webley perform as the conjoined twins, if only to inevitably corner Palmer and apologize for being the most socially awkward person ever, but I could not get my lazy, cookie eating ass off the couch in time. So I went home and watched Breaking Bad and fell asleep trying to rank the ten most humiliating conversations I’ve held. That West Egg/East Egg intro was truly a watershed moment in the history of my struggles to communicate with people. It was almost as good as the time O.J. Anderson came into the golf range and asked not to pay for anything, then freaked out when I admitted I didn’t recognize him. At this point I think I should employ a handler to lower people’s expectations before they meet me. The handler could approach people ahead of me and say, “Listen. There’s this guy…he’s going to try to talk to you in a few minutes, but most likely he won’t make sense. Or he’ll make a joke that falls flat. Treat him how you would a child. Let him laugh at his jokes. He’s used to being the only one laughing.”
Amanda Palmer – Do You Swear To Tell The Truth The Whole Truth And Nothing But The Truth So Help Your Black Ass?
