Kristen and Mitch Take On California: Part I

We began our journey at the bracing hour of 4 a.m., when we set off for the scenic Edmonton International Airport. We started the day by knocking back a few buffalo wings, just like we do every morning. 

Breakfast of champions.

Two layovers, three flights and a bus ride later we were in sunny Davis, California, a Lethbridge-sized college town just outside of Sacramento. One of my favourite things about traveling is the first few breaths you take in a new place: the feel and smell of the air lets you know you’re far from home, better than scenery or language barriers can.

Compared to Edmonton’s dry continental air, Davis was humid. I had been checking the Weather Network obsessively in the days leading up to our departure, and I was not thrilled about what I saw: a high of 23 degrees on Monday was the highest the temperature would get while we were in California. But I was thinking an Edmonton 23, when you still need long pants, a jacket and closed-toed shoes since the gust of a north wind or a moment of cloud cover bring recurring shivers. But no—this was a California 23, sunny and humid.

Davis would be a great place to live. It was just my style, and just my pace. It was green, clean, well-treed and well-maintained, and according to Wikipedia, it holds the title of most bicycle-friendly city in the United States. Environmentalism? Garbage-free streets? Pretty flowers? I’m in.

Davis, California: pleasant.

Edmonton, Alberta: unpleasant.

The college students probably accounted for a large number of the bikes. And since they're so educated (if not as educated as the good folks in Arlington, Virginia... see joke set up below), they also know that eating and shopping local is the way to go; hence the abundance of independent businesses that lined the lush green streets. Unless they were just weird American chains that I, sans cable TV, had never heard of.

Unique, small-town character. 

Oddly enough, even though they have the weather to enjoy them for more than three weeks each year, the city was lacking in patios. This made me nervous. As many of you know, I love nothing more than a good patio, and a holiday without one is like Alberta without environmental exploitation: it's just not what you came for. But don’t worry—we found one! 

Doesn't look like rain, does it? Yeah, we didn't think so either. 

Davis is also supposed to be the second most educated city in the country (after Arlington, Virginia; see punchline above), which is surprising considering the number of people we saw biking around without helmets. For a country that's dragging its feet towards universal health care, they're surprisingly laissez-faire about head injuries.

At the centre of the city is the large UC Davis campus on which Mitch and I got lost trying to find our first reason for being in California: The Shins, in the flesh. Gather around, and let me tell you what it was like.

I’m not even going to tell you about the pretentious hipster opening band. Their music was sorta okay, but the lead singer stored his collection of wooden flutes in a buckskin quiver thing slung casually over his shoulder. Enough said.

The Shins opened with “The Rifle’s Spiral” (which I so accurately predicted), and I immediately knew that I was going to like them live. As you may recall from my review of Port of Morrow, the tune was too Broken Bells-y for my taste. Not so in real life. It was more rock and more real without the production. It could have been the Shins from ten years ago.

I probably know the Shins’ catalogue better than that of any other artist, and as such I was probably more excited than I’ve been at any other show, ever. What song would they play next?!? Would it be better or worse than the recorded version, or just different? As the band cruised through its set, it became clear that the answer would never be “worse.”

The band was high energy, James Mercer was far less depressive than I expected, and the crowd was nothing but enthusiastic. Some stood throughout the set, but when the band struck up “Caring is Creepy” mid-way through, nobody sat down again.

The crowd was great, too—just the right combination of enthusiasm and respect, showing the band ample love but not letting their own show overwhelm the one on stage. With the exception of one person: the young gent right in front of me.

He was a real special guy. Even his girlfriend couldn’t stand his hoots and whistles and requests for songs recorded by other bands. But enough about him. This show had so many pros, this single con isn’t even worth mentioning.

The venue wasn’t huge—about the size of Edmonton’s Jubilee Theatre—and it was well-selected, catering to the band’s college-aged fan base. Less convenient for me, being 2500 km from home and in the middle of a labyrinthine campus. Even Google Maps couldn't find this venue.

The highlight of the evening was “New Slang,” my fave Shins song. It was a quiet tune but the whole band was involved, and the vocals of Jessica Dobson (who wasn’t with the band when the song was recorded… just like everyone else in this lineup except Mercer) were just lovely indeed. Also its cool that the lead guitarist of an (otherwise) all-male band is a girl. Estrogen power!

Like this... but with class. And talent. Actually, nothing like this.

The set closed with a great rendition of “Sleeping Lessons,” which, like the rest of their set, was more energetic than its recorded counterpart. The only complaint I have about the show (besides the guy in front of me) is that, at just an hour and a half, it was too short! Granted, they don’t have a huge catalogue to work with, but I was left wanting much much more. Fortunately, the Boss made up for that the very next night. (Spoiler!)

I’ll leave you now the way the Shins left me: with “Sleeping Lessons.” This video pretty much sums up the performance. The energy! The dynamics! The appropriately-timed woos of the crowd!

I really wish the band would come to Canada. I could certainly handle seeing them again.