Closer to Fine

I saw a wonderful show on Thursday evening. The Three Handsome Devils - Evan Kolvoord, Ronok Sarkar & Bill Travis - were reunited for the first time in at least a year, as Evan's been living in his home town of Austin, Texas of late. I met his girlfriend Nicole that evening, and I was surprised to hear her express how exciting it was for her to be able to see him perform these shows the way that he has over the past month or so, during their Nova Scotia vacation. I guess he doesn't do much of this in Austin. She offered a vague explanation about him having done all of that there so many years ago, also alluding to how his creativity might be kind of stifled in the presence of all of these people he's known his whole life. I kind of get that. What she also said, though, and I think more significantly, was that Evan seemed to feel more inspired in Halifax. She recognized a very creative and collaborative community in this little city. It's so interesting how the spirit of a place can affect the way a person relates to even the things that are the most important to him- or herself. I think she's right about Halifax.

When I moved back to Toronto for a little while at the very, very end of the 1990's, I became acutely aware of the fact that no one ever danced at rock shows. They stood there maybe swaying, almost imperceptibly. It was notable because everyone danced at rock shows, in Halifax.

The show - The Handsome Devils show - was intentionally but earnestly like a lazy Sunday afternoon in a friend's kitchen. The three songwriters played one another's songs around a checkered tablecloth atop of a bar table that sat in the centre of the stage and held a fruit bowl from which audience members were invited to - and indeed did - help themselves.

It looked, for a bit, like the show might not happen. The small audience that finally arrived did so late. I guess these lazy late arrivals - a natural fit for this city after all - must be accommodated despite all of the tomorrow mornings that follow these evenings in much too rapid succession. Evan took to the street with his ukulele and improvised songs about his surroundings in an attempt to lure people into the venue. It was mostly unsuccessful that way, but people stopped and listened or at least offered warm smiles as they continued on to their own engagements or homes.

I remembered how when I was younger I used to find these spaces and people and moments even in great big, grey Toronto, and how songs on streets made the pavement and the commute something almost magical. Individuals connected by voices and music and being outside, in it with the world, which is really a very joyful place.

For two summers, my friend Justin and I used to busk outside of Futures Bakery at Bloor & Brunswick sts. I would play guitar while he did tricks with his devil sticks. There was a woman who worked at Futures who would give us free coffee everyday, which was my favourite thing about playing there - knowing how she appreciated hearing this through the open window enough to encourage our extended engagement by offering caffeinated beverages as incentive. Otherwise, we made a little bit of money - enough to share a package of Drum tobacco and get wasted at the Bistro every Wednesday night before heading down the street to watch One Step Beyond play their acid jazz to a roomful of hippies who did, indeed, dance freely.

At some point during every day we were out there, Justin would insist, "Play the mountain song!" And I would never ever tire of appeasing him by playing "Closer to Fine."

I imagine that "Closer to Fine" remains a song that is sung around campfires and in basements and on street corners like that one, though I don't think I've heard anyone play it in years. It's one of the first songs I ever learned how to play on guitar, courtesy of John Duncan IV (who also taught me how to play The Lemonheads' "Confetti" which is the second song I learned to play on guitar). Everyone I was friends with seemed to know and love this song, and because hardly anyone else knew how to actually play guitar, they all thought I was pretty awesome at it.

I've taken issue with the word "fine," rallied against its connotations even, sort of equating it with the settling sentiment. But I think I've reclaimed it of late. There is nothing wrong with fine. She's so Fine, "I'm in love with her and I feel fine." Fine I thought, was like an excellent meal, an ironed suit; Intentional, precise. Really, though, I don't think "fine" is that considered, and certainly not the way it's expressed in this song. Perhaps it's like happiness is this imagined higher level that hasn't been attained and maybe doesn't even exist. If fine and content are the best you can get, so what? I feel way better, fine and inexplicably easy than I do during most of the minutes of my life that are spent looking for what it is that I lack.

"Closer To Fine" - Indigo Girls

I'm trying to tell you something about my life

Maybe give me insight between black and white

The best thing you've ever done for me

Is to help me take my life less seriously, it's only life after all

Well darkness has a hunger that's insatiable

And lightness has a call that's hard to hear

I wrap my fear around me like a blanket

I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it,

I'm crawling on your shore.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains

I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain

There's more than one answer to these questions

pointing me in crooked line

The less I seek my source for some definitive

The closer I am to fine.

I went to see the doctor of philosophy

With a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee

He never did marry or see a B-grade movie

He graded my performance, he said he could see through me

I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind, got my paper

And I was free.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains

I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain

There's more than one answer to these questions

pointing me in crooked line

The less I seek my source for some definitive

The closer I am to fine.

I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.

To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend

I woke up with a headache like my head against a board

Twice as cloudy as I'd been the night before

I went in seeking clarity.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains

I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain

There's more than one answer to these questions

pointing me in crooked line

The less I seek my source for some definitive

The closer I am to fine.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains

I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain

There's more than one answer to these questions

pointing me in crooked line

The less I seek my source for some definitive

The closer I am to fine.

We go to the bible, we go through the workout

We read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout

There's more than one answer to these questions

pointing me in a crooked line

The less I seek my source for some definitive

The closer I am to fine

The closer I am to fine

The closer I am to fine