Sabrina Ellis apologized for her lack of energy.
Stooped over a merch table in a sweaty Tulsa bike bar, the Texas-based punk songstress smiled and explained how a calm demeanor can kick in before a performance. It’s a funny parallel to her concerts which feel like a borderline riot.
I say no problem, and I compliment A Giant Dog on the new album and how much I appreciate her art. I would say a variation of that at least three times. I had been turned on to Ellis’ music after her pop oriented project Sweet Spirit opened for Spoon and visited Oklahoma City.
I was hooked immediately.
Ellis seems to constantly bounce between music projects and spends a lot of time on the road. Not much has changed after garnering accolades from Britt Daniel and A Giant Dog signing to Merge Records. She’s still gotta bust her ass and tour just like anyone else.
I walk away and kill time before A Giant Dog takes stage. When I return, Ellis is in the same spot but something’s different. There’s a wild look in her eyes.
“You got some energy now?” I asked.
“I’m about to show my ass to a town I’ve never been in,” she replied. “Let’s do this.”
I hadn’t thought to look down and notice Ellis had ditched her pants and swapped them out for shiny underwear. She sprinted to the microphone and started a concert with pure, manic energy.
Fans danced, spilled more than a couple of drinks and I even sang into the microphone with Ellis. It was everything I could want a show to be. Nothing beats sweating along with the band. My heart almost burst out of my chest when Ellis shoved the microphone into my face. I sang all the wrong lyrics. I think we high fived at least three times. I was a loser, but it felt OK.
Midshow, a fan yelled at Sabrina to play “Sleep When Dead.”
“I won’t play that until you’re on your knees begging for it,” she snapped.
Woof.
Fast forward to me waking up on the floor of my hotel room a few hours later. I emptied my pockets on my way to bed. A crumpled up set list filled my back pocket. It was evidence of the night’s celebration, and something I don’t ever want to forget.
A Giant Dog barked, and I could do was howl along.