I get filked but good


 


This weekend, I attended CapriCon 25 in Arlington Heights, IL. There were many attractions, including the fact that My Sister-in-Law's Band (with my nephew on drums) played the Friday night dance--which, slug that I am, I missed. But also there was this guy who posted at Eschaton under the name of filkertom who was going to be there too, and I'd liked his posts a lot, and so was looking forward to meeting him.
I mentioned this to my more fanly-connected friends and their eyes grew wide, as they said, "you mean...TOM SMITH??? "
I was told I had to, had to see him perform.
Well I met him, traded inanities, did some satisfying political rant-and-response, and went to his concert.

It was amazing.
I enjoyed myself mightily, and for the SF Fandom folks, that's all that need be said.
But, even though I've been reading science fiction literally for as long as I can remember, I'm still a bit of an outsider to fandom: among other things, those decades of comics fan and pro con attendance had a distancing effect. Tom's concert crystallized everything that's strangely wonderful about Fandom-wid-a-capital-F.

Tom is a filker. A filker is a Fandom folk singer. (saying 'science fiction folk singer' or 'fantasy folk singer' is somewhat misleading, but close.) And Fandom--well, Fandom is a lot more--and a little less-than just a bunch of folks who get together and talk about their favorite stuff. SF Fandom is nothing more nor less than a tribe, a nation all its own. It's one of the first modern tribes, organized on interest rather than geographical location or blood relation. For a large percentage, life in fandom is real life, while life on the outside is a necessary evil. While it has its roots in books, it encompasses readers, tv and film fans, gamers, costumers, collectors of all sorts, space advocates, and various flavors of occultists and pagans as well as fierce atheists and rationalists. Conventions are therefore more like native american potlatches than other conventions (like comics conventions, which are conceptually simple affairs--buy/sell comics and related stuff, meet the creators, end of story.) All sorts of socialization goes on at these things--especially stuff that reinforces fans' identities as fans.

Filking is one of those things that holds this nation together. Sitting in the audience at Tom's show reminded me of another experience--sitting in the keller of my uncle's and cousin's marching society in Basel, Switzerland during Fasnacht (a.k.a. carnival--going on right now, btw). Everybody crowded together, eating and drinking traditional foodstuffs, and listening to satirical verses and songs about the events of the city. Fun indeed (it really, realy helps if you know Baseldytch, the local dialect) and it really reinforces the feeling of the City of Basel as more than a bunch of buildings on the Rhine.

Tom's stage presence is, initially, unassuming. Just a guy with a guitar, rotund, indifferently dressed (not that there's anything wrong with that!) with a music stand of dog-eared sheets that fall to the floor once in a while. Absolutely no distance between him and the audience.

None of that matters when Tom begins to work.

He's fast, he's witty, he plays as well as any folk musician and has a warm, hearty voice. That night, he opened up with a rapid-fire song about Babylon 5. Here's where my distancing comes in: I've never been able to warm up to the TV series: I knew enough about it to get the references, but not enough to be delighted,

Not to worry: Tom not only covers Xena, Buffy, the Smurfs, and other media excrescences, but does songs of general science-fictional and fantasy themes like the Bermuda Triangle and having sex with aliens. Many of Tom's songs are song parodies, but others are traditional folk song structures adapted for talking about, well, having sex with aliens and getting drunk on alien beverages--and others are his own well-constructed songs. No one-trick pony he.

And boy, he works the crowd. Most don't need to be worked: they sang along even when he didn't ask them to. But he plays and talks and doesn't miss a beat when someone shouts out a comment. He picked on (with utmost kindness) a woman who had never seen him perform before--and nearly had her convulsed with the laughter of surprise.

The fascinating and wonderful thing was that I could just feel the sense of community being built by this performance. Tom was referencing everybody's common experience as fans. It was, of necessity, media-heavy, and it didn't even matter that some of it was just the xperience of a TV watcher (Is a song in praise of Peter Lorre a Science Fiction/Fantasy song? Doesn't matter! It's funny and speaks to that substrate of experience.) Evwn when he does a masterful change-up to do a song in tribute to Jim Henson and Kermit the Frog about Henson's death (segueing into "The Rainbow Connection") it would take a pretty prissy critic to object that it's scarcely an SF subject--there wasn't a dry eye in the house (including this semi-prissy reviewer.) If it's part of Fandom's common culture, and is part of the stuff that binds the community together even if it isn't SF or Fantasy, it was legitimately part of the show.

And did I mention he was funny?

Finally, I have to say that Tom doesn't do parodies because he can't do originals. His big closer, "Rocket Ride" (a paean to all the B-Movie 50's cadillac-fin spaceship stories of our childhood and all the sensawunda they embodied in all that tinsel) is just one flat-out great song. Hell, if Bruce Springsteen sang it he'd have the crowd on its feet stomping and cheering.

So I left Tom's concert delighted, moved--and enlightened.

Go to his site. Buy his stuff. In the words of George S. Patton, Jr., "A man that eloquent has got to be saved!"

Posted: Wednesday - February 16, 2005 at 02:09 AM        

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