Rachel Sumner’s face beamed as she beamed in on Instagram. “Hello, hello, hello!” she said. “Hi Nancy! Hi Tom! Hi Dave!”
The Somerville, Mass.-based musician was the headliner — and in this case, the opener — for a triple bill including the New Haven-based Lys Guillorn and Mercy Choir. The three were supposed to have been part of triple bill at Cafe Nine on Tuesday night. With the pandemic-induced shutdowns, playing on that State Street stage was impossible. But it wasn’t impossible to play.
As Sumner sang, the number of people watching rose rapidly toward 40. The conceit of the show was simple: with each of the acts using stripped-down setups, they would do a show round-robin style, with each musician performing two songs before passing it off to the next person. They would continue like this for an hour that emulated the feel of a live show in surprising ways, and even took advantage of the fact that it was virtual.
“I’m Paul, and I perform under the name Mercy Choir, and it’s so nice to see all of you tuned in,” said Paul Belbusti from his house. He asked us, honestly, to act as his sound man. “If you can’t hear me, write in the comments that you can’t hear me,” he said. That turned out to be not much of a problem as Belbusti performed two newer songs. If it was strange to sing to a camera, it didn’t show, as Belbusti quickly got the hang of it.
“I hope you can hear me through this tiny machine,” — he sang, as part of the song, lifting a hand from his guitar to point at the screen — “and you like these songs about birds, knives, and nicotine.”
Sumner, her audio on, clapped. Clap emojis filled the message board next to him. “Really glad to see everyone out there making comments and such,” Belbusti said. “We were supposed to do this show at our beloved Café Nine, but here we are.”
He performed his second song. By this time 40 people were watching. Rachel clapped.
“Are you going to get rid of me and invite Lys now?” Belbusti said. Sumner said yes. “Everybody say goodbye to Paul. And get his new record!” she said. “I wish we were at Cafe Nine!”
Though Guillorn appraised the number watching and was pleased. “It looks like we have 40 people, so we’d have the bar settled down by now.” She setlled into two new songs as well, with lyrics that gained a particular poignancy given the current situation. She sang of the day when we might hug everybody we meet.
“Will the bells ring out in the street,” she sang, “just like on Easter morning?”
.
Before her second song she announced that “I seem to be writing a bunch of songs with trees as titles, so ‘Sassafras’ it is.” The comments section suddenly doubled as the bar, as people typed as if they were talking to the performer onstage.
“Make like a tree and get the hell out of here,” a person with the handle congachameleon replied.
Guillorn mentioned that she’d written the next song at a Robyn Hitchcock show. She was supposed to see Hitchcock live in a few weeks, but was instead going to see him in her living room.
“I guess the future is now,” nancytt517 chimed in.
“The future. We live there. It’s weird,” Guillorn said. “Hey — what are you going to do?”
Now 47 people were watching. Sumner clapped at the end of the song, along with a row of clapping emojis.
“Thanks — those were beautiful songs,” Sumner said. “Also, yeah, soloing. I haven’t gotten used to it” without a band, she said. She took the virtual stage again. This time the audience got to act as collective sound engineer, as Sumner got a little too far away from her microphone. She asked if she was cutting out. A flicker of comments said yes. It was suggested that maybe she get a little closer to the mic. She did, mid-song, and a series of affirmations showed that we could all hear her better.
A representative from Café Nine tuned in.
“Can you hear me?” Belbusti asked, when it was his turn again.
“Yes!” Sumner said.
“Can you hear my guitar?” he asked.
“Yes!” Sumner said.
“Oh baby, we’re in business,” Belbusti said. He performed two more songs. His second was a singalong called “Pick Up Every Flower.” When he hit the chorus for the last time, he said “everybody!” It was easy to imagine everyone singing along. “Pick up every flower on the ground,” Belbusti sang. “Listen and respond to every sound. / Treat your fellow man like he’s a friend. / Lean yourself on those which you depend.”
“This is working a lot more seamlessly than I was expecting,” Guillorn said when it was her turn again. “I wish we could all be together sweating in the same room, but its still great to see everyone.” Though, she added, “some of you wouldn’t have been able to be there and can come see us in this way.”
She announced her next song, called “Wolverines.” “Wolverines are weasals,” she said, “and it’s kind of about going wild.”
“I miss loud drunks,” ktdixon76 typed. Guillorn mentioned that “nothing I’ve played tonight is out in public yet. If I’m home long enough, I might make a record.” She closed her set with the meditative “How to Make a Mountain,” again with startlingly timely lyrics. “Waiting for the walls to cave in,” she sang. “Waiting for heaven to end.”
The online audience was holding strong at over 40. Sumner closed out the show with a final song. “I hope we can do this in public, in real life, as soon as possble — and I hope you guys can all come when it happens,” she said.
“One mooore!” Guillorn typed in the comments. But the video cut out.