There are plenty of things I always remember about Dex Romweber: that he’s a great songwriter and a phenomenal guitarist, that his hair will always flop forward into his eyes two songs into the set, that he’s been kicking around the Triangle for ages and probably knows everyone in Chapel Hill and then some. I never regret going to see him and Sara play, never, because there’s always something new in the set that delights me.
But there are things that I forget, sometimes, too, and tonight at the 506 I was reminded of all of them — that Dex is funny. (“We love playing in our hometown. For all twenty of you.”) That Dex, in his kicking around the Triangle, has been playing places bigger and more important than the 506 for years, and is nonplussed by most it, because also that Dex, well, Dex is starting to get old. (No offense meant, Mr. Romweber; I’m getting old too, because when you were making Flat Duo Jets albums, I was a teenager, and now I am decidedly not a teenager.)
(For example, I am pretty sure that there are at least two Flat Duo Jets albums that are older than Ben Carr of Last Year’s Men. I am going to start a new monthly blog feature called ‘Reviews of Classic Triangle Music Scene Albums That Are Older Than Ben Carr’.)
All those things I forget is part of what makes Dex fantastic, though: he’s been everywhere and seen everything, he doesn’t give a fuck what you think of him, and he’s wickedly funny. Last night he and Sara tore through songs from Ruins of Berlin and Is That You In The Blue?, and he played one about sharks flying in from outer space, and he made fun of the audience and sneered and ripped it up on his guitar. He’s fantastic, and the Triangle is lucky to have him, still, after all these years, and I’m lucky that he and Sara are playing around here so regularly, because I get to see them and it’s awesome.
Full set, including opener Orbo & the Longshots, here.