Life & Time on the River

It seems I might have missed the event of the summer here. Over the past few weeks I had been hearing gushing praise for a band due to play Friday & Saturday nights at a venue downtown. The tone of the praise could be described as a mix of reverence and excitement.

My own reception of this praise was a mix of embarrassment and surprise. I couldn't believe that The Klocks were an unknown entity to me yet all of Fort Smith seemed to be agog. Generally, even if I don't know their music, the band's name will at least strike a resonant chord somewhere in the recess of my head. A name like "The Klocks" seems to hold a faint residue of hipsterdom so I was naturally surprised (and relieved) to find out they were just a party band, which is to say a cover band. For some reason I'm filled with the Seinfeldian urge to tack on a "not that there's anything wrong with that" anytime I refer to someone as a "cover band."

The hidden embarrassment and subsequent relief I experienced upon finding out that The Klocks were a cover band rests largely in my perception of myself. My thought process ran somewhat close to "how could these people, my fellow Fort Smithians, know a band that I, former resident of Austin and music lover, not know about?" I'm not entirely sure what's more embarrassing, the possibility of not knowing a band or the arrogance it requires to be embarrassed about it. An additional and unfortunate subtext is the quiet slight I gave this band by being relieved they were a cover band. Evidently it's acceptable to not know them as such.

Mixed within this is the unintentional irony of altered expectations. Austinites, like many dwellers of urban areas, are spoiled by the plethora and availability of acts and venues. One expects to be able to hear a class act on any night of the week. These expectations are wholly justified. Compare this situation to Fort Smith and one might think a depression would settle over me. While at times I miss being able to run down to the Hole in the Wall on a random Wednesday night, my own expectations shifted with my move home.

Life in a smaller town, with its slower pace, serves to intensify whatever minor events occur. When someone comes to town, even a popping covers act, it warrants the attention of the masses. Due to illness I unfortunately still do not have a first hand experience of The Klocks but even this unexperienced experience illustrates the ever changing landscape of my adaption to life here in the river city.