The Wrens
Hanging out with a bunch of folks at The Field before the show, we were talking about The Wrens. I was completely unfamiliar with this band I was about to see, though intrigued with their music and their story. It’s an all-too-familiar tale of mishaps and missteps, navigating the treacherous music biz in search of that elusive “big $$ recording deal”, though informed with a particularly charming, older-and-wiser cynical as hell world view. They’ve been performing (and on the rare occasion releasing something) since 1989, and a particularly dedicated Wrens fan who had driven up from New Jersey for the show marveled at their longevity, “they’re really old – they’re in their 40s!” (thank you honey, excuse me for a moment while I go slit my wrists). Fortunately, The Wrens (and I) have a sturdy and time-tested sense of humor, and after seeing their full-on crazy and wildly energetic, sweeping and majestic, ultra-classy performance, I’m very glad to have gotten out of my rocking chair to come out to see them. A new fan is born.
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