Margot & The Nuclear So And So’s At The Waiting Room | Concert Review

Story by Mitch McCann 

| Published Dec 7, 2010

The Waiting Room seemed empty, due mostly in part to the fascist smoking ban exiling smokers to the late-November chill. The few concert-goers that were inside were conversing, drinking, or both. So it’s no surprise that when Cameron McGill, a lanky gentleman with a quiet reserve slinked onstage he was hardly noticed. It wasn’t until he, with guitar in hand and harmonica in place, began strumming that anyone even took notice.

It took the balls of either a much younger or much wiser man than himself to stand among a “crowd” of bored, under-inebriated, overly-dressed upper middle class Omaha natives and play songs none of them had ever heard of, or will ever hear again. McGill, slightly disheveled and alone on a stage packed with the equipment for bands much more renowned than himself, struck me as unimpressive at first. Yet with nothing better to do, I stood there, 10 feet in front of him, waiting for something to happen. I’m so thankful I did.

McGill’s soft, yet firm, eloquent voice was made for telling stories and his sound is captivating and cherishable - like that of a man strumming a lonely guitar in a room slowly filling with water. McGill’s prowess as a songsmith and musician is far-reaching and contains the depth of a well-lived, tumultuous life.

Remember that obnoxious kid in high school? Always up in your space, sweaty, probably fat, and loud all the time? Well, for reasons still unknown to me, Margot chose to brand their tour with a band made up entirely of dudes (and one chick) exactly like that. I refuse to waste any more space reviewing second-to-bat openers Jookabox. Their obnoxious, hap-hazard arrangements sound like they either stopped writing the songs halfway through, or should have.

As the endless members of the Nuclear So and So’s packed the already cramped Waiting Room stage, Richard Edwards, signer/songwriter and last to arrive onstage, was visibly tour-beaten and ready to get the hell outta Dodge (so to speak). Somewhat fortunately, Margot’s music is set to this exact tune, and therefore did not stop Edwards and the other half a dozen members of the Nuclear So and So’s from delivering a masterful performance.

Margot progressed seamlessly through their catalog, ceasing only to have drunken fans ejected from the floor (don’t worry Edwards soon recovered from the situation by giving into the assholes requesting/shouting “Broadripple [is Burning]") and oddly enough, for a marriage proposal.

An entire bottle of whiskey in hand, Edwards drowned himself, and the entire crowd, in a sorted nightmare of drugs, devils, smokes and sex.