2020/9/13 Dogs In A Pile @ Evan Lereah’s House
There is absolutely nothing like the feeling of completely letting go of your inhibitions and allowing yourself to ride the wave of a group collective. I am quite specifically referring to concerts, where people gather to unite and feel their common love while sharing in the groove. The manifestation of that love is a transference of communal energy the likes of which cannot be matched by any other art form. That is what 2020 took away from us. Born of that loss, however, was the creation of smaller and more intimate private events that redefine how people consume their live music, at least currently. To be fair, private parties have been going on forever but with nothing approaching the hunger and necessity of what’s happening now.
I was introduced to Dogs In A Pile only five weeks ago at just such a gathering. Okay, maybe that’s not exactly true. What actually happened is I hired them sight unseen to play a concert in my backyard. Long story short (you can read the looooong version here), they kicked some serious ass and made a half acre property’s worth of new fans; so much so, in fact, that one of my guests who was no more than a +1 at the time called them the very next day to play a party in his yard. Well, that dude and I are now inseparable and as rumor has it, he simply wouldn’t take no for an answer when he requested Dogs to play in his yard. Seriously, where else but on the basis of shared experience can friendships blossom so quickly. Livemusic is just pure fucking magic on so many levels.
Further, these intimate events give musicians and their fans a chance to bond on a level that completely transcends that of a shared glance from a stage to a sea of anonymous bodies (and that’s if you’re lucky). I’ve seen my favorite bands many times but Jerry Garcia died without ever knowing who I was, nor would Trey Anastasio or Eddie Vedder ever be able to pick me out of a lineup. Dogs In A Pile, however, became fast friends and seeing them yesterday for just the second time in my life felt like reuniting with family. To say I adore these guys and place a super high value on their friendship is a huge understatement.
Dogs In A Pile are an Asbury Park, NJ jam band who are young, exciting, and, quite frankly, cool as fuck. Also, like all other Asbury bands, they’re not really from Asbury (who really is?) but mostly reside in Shore towns further south. Whether it’s Monmouth or Ocean County that they call home, I’ll bet they never envisioned that their career path would take them through Marlboro, NJ twice in a five week span. Their #dogpound might be growing more slowly than anticipated but I can and will personally attest to the quality over quantity of their new fans.
It’s really amazing how much I’ve fallen for these guys as both individuals, musicians, and most of all, the sum of their parts. Humble, polite, and funny with talent oozing from their Berklee College of Music pores, their most endearing trait is the love they share, evident in every note as much as their laughter. I can’t speak knowledgeably of rhythm changes, arpeggios, and B flats vs. sharps, but I know what I feel and I definitely know love when I see it. These dudes make me feel.
With energy for days, Joe Babick sets what is often a frenetic pace on the drum kit, even if his subtlety speaks more loudly than his brute force. Rhythm partner Sam Lucid is a flat-out beast on the five-string, with a distinctive tone to match the confidence exploding out of his Orange bass amp. Brian Murray and Jimmy Law share lead guitar and vocal duties, alternately complementing and one-upping each other in harmony but never competition. Important footnote, when first I saw them Murray played a “Phred” Languedoc replica that I know now was his backup guitar. I guess someone forgot to pack his Fender Strat during load-in. Well, my apologies to Brian for thinking that Jimmy was the show, this dude rips. I also now understand that he composes most of Dog’s original music and seeing him with that Strat just totally rewrote what was already a very high opinion of him. {Hey Bri, if you forget to bring your guitar to my house again I’m gonna kick your ass ;)} And FWIW, Jimmy still has the it factor that flies in direct contrast to the humility that best characterizes his humanity. Last but not least, Jeremy Kaplan, keyboardist and vocalist, is still the dude who had me at hello. Trying to avoid hyperbole here, but “prodigy” comes to mind when thinking of Jeremy – he just lights me up.
Scheduled for two ninety minute sets, Dogs In A Pile played a super high energy show that bested the energy displayed by most of the crowd. Our host and your author, however, did not disappoint in that department and evidently little else was required for a fiery set (or three!). Playing mostly originals cut with a few choice licks, teases, and covers that appealed to the mostly sedentary crowd of aging hippies, Dogs opened with a tasty original called “Look Johnny” before dipping into the Grateful Dead’s catalog with “China Cat Sunflower.”
Perhaps the best example of Dog’s setlist wizardry on the fly was the “Thomas Duncan Part 2” > “Also Sprach Zarathustra (2001)” > “Thomas Duncan Part 2” that kicked off the second set and featured a healthy helping of Phish’s “Sand” along with a “Landlady” teased that our host picked up on but I missed. All good, he missed the “Sand” lol.
The “Boogie On Reggae Woman” that follows just drips with Jeremy’s (thank you, Stevie Wonder) funky goodness. Natch.
“Linus & Lucy” portrays the band’s classical training in a fun take on an old classic.
An extended jam on “They Love Each Other” really spoke to me. Still can’t believe Brian forgot his strat a few weeks back. Oof.
Jeremy and Brian literally throwing licks back and forth before the set ended with a legitimately type II “Charlie” replete with a few “Wilson” catcalls and teases.
What. A. Show. Three hours of highly engaged dancing, still the very decent hour of seven o’clock on a Sunday evening and I was only twelve minutes from home. What could be better? Exhausted and happy, I was ready to for bed. Evan, our host with the most, had other ideas. We were barely two songs into the first set when Evan mentioned how cool a three-set day would be and Jimmy made a Freudian slip at the end of the first set that turned out to be prescient. Intending to offer one or two more songs, he instead portended, “We have one or two more sets so we’re gonna take a short break.” Wait, what?!? Turns out Jimmy was talking facts.
Listen, if you’re going to have a raging jam band play a third set on a Sunday evening, be sure to get rid of all casual participants before letting that shit fly, eh? Nine of us remained and we did so to rage, a private dance party if ever there was one. I guess one of us really wanted to hear “Shakedown Street”, so much so that a sign demanding such was hastily thrown together as the second set neared its close. I’m pretty sure this is an actual rule so musicians pay attention … when playing a private party for nine people and one of them has a sign with a request, said request must be honored. I’m pretty sure I once read that somewhere. Anyway, a little (read: a lot) of coaxing and a small (read: giant) nudge later, and Dogs delivered what the people (read: person) wanted.
The rest of the set was one of those only on a Sunday, only after dark, and only in an impromptu third set types of jams for the record books. “Craig and Pat” comprised most of the rest of the set, perhaps in name only, as the jam took a long walk through a Sam Lucid bass solo > Another Brick In the Wall > Shakedown St. > Under Pressure > some X-mas jam that a patio full of Jews couldn’t identify though it’s probably the most popular one > another super recognizable tune that I somehow failed to recognize > something that sounded like Corrina > Another Brick In the Wall > and this just has to end up back in “Craig and Pat” and it sure as shit it delivered … “Hey, we’re having a good time!” Well I’ll be damned if that wasn’t the longest C&P on record, though the band would confirm nothing more than “probably top three.” They’re either serious jokesters or there are some pretty fucking heady Craig & Pat’s out there. At the very least it took the concept of a Type II jam to a new level, this being more like Type XVII.
A ripping cover of the Grateful Dead’s Mr. Charlie, cuz why not?!?
The “Bugle On The Shelf” that followed saw Brian Murray lovingly ad lib the lyrics, “Marc Komito is a nice guy,” perhaps in recognition of the raging that he was surely witnessing past what he knew to be my bedtime on a Sunday school night . Gosh, I just fucking love these dudes. You know with all the video I got it just fucking figures that I missed that. Ear worms for days, bro, it’s all good. Just place the lyrics wherever you see fit.
“Good Lovin’” closed the set finally and mercifully, followed by an encore (really?!?) to put this eighty-five minute bonus set in the books. Sweet Jesus was that something else!
I’ve grown accustomed to chronicling my live music experiences in words. I really love to recount my escapades and perhaps spread the word of a band I love in the process. For the most part, though, writing is a labor of love that serves to both document and preserve what I consider to be special memories and this day certainly checks that box. When it’s all said and done though, even though I love when people read my work, I write for me. That being said — and he’s probably the only one to have read this far — I wrote this one for Evan Lereah. I’m lucky to call you a friend, bro, and I’m sending all my love and thanks to you and Jess. It takes balls and gumption to host a concert in your backyard and I’m thrilled that you got to experience that magic … love ya!
28,974 steps, the rough equivalent of 13.72 miles for a 6’1” male. If you’re keeping track (probably not), that’s a three-set non-festival record, besting the previous record of Goose (24,135 on 10/31/19), JRAD (23,685 on 9/27/19) and, just for reference, Phish’s three sets on NYE at YEMSG (20,612 on 12/31/19. Note: Trey was stuck on a platform so the number is skewed somewhat down even if the whole experience did forewarn of the shitshow that has been 2020.)
