They do play the song in live settings, and this night in Gainesville it is explosive. Dreams deferred, promises lost, outrageous inequality, racism A an ugly picture of America, and of religion in America: "That's my brother/Hanging in that tree out there/'Cause his color was a thing they could not bear/My eyes see just fine and I just don't get it/'Cause my brother's heart beats as strong as mine." If we should "keep the faith" because "God will surely light the way," then why is it "dark in our homes"? Go ahead and pray to Jesus. It won't help. "I don't want to live/In God's Country any more."
Richenbacher's isn't packed, but the crowd, including a few Miamians and some Gainesville musicians, reacts enthusiastically. My friends the Nash brothers are impressed. Jim Nash buys a copy of Bomb in the Shelter and after the show, the three of us head back to the motel room.
Soon Feiles and Jim Wall arrive. Edelson and Coogan ran out between sets and bought some beers they bring to this little postshow party. Vice Academy, a really cacky movie A "it's like porno without the sex scenes," Wall quips -- flickers on the TV set. Everyone is pretty exhausted at this point.
Three Gainesville locals pop in, full of praise for Feiles and the band, and full of suggestions. Natural Causes is a new discovery for one of them. "I know some people in Orlando," he says. "I might even be able to hook you up with Disney World." Feiles, now forced to sit on the floor of the crowded room, says little.
The new fan doesn't know what most of us in Miami do. How the Causes have already toured the nation, hitting five major cities courtesy of Tanqueray. How in the summer of '92 the band began jumping on opportunities to play Shuckers, Churchill's Hideaway, the Island Club, Uncle Sam's Music Cafe, the UM Rathskeller, the Brickell Tavern, and any place else that would have them. How they'd progressed to the point of being solicited by the biggest and best clubs in town. How just a week before, in fact, the Causes had played Saturday afternoon at the Miami Beach Festival of the Arts, then at Stephen Talkhouse that night, and then at the festival again, doing what they've always done: playing as much as possible. How their first press kit contained exactly two clippings totaling less than two paragraphs, and their latest is thick enough to use as a coffee table. How they're now in a position to sign a label deal just about anytime they want. Still, the Gainesville fan's new-found faith is fun to watch.
We leave the motel at 10:00 the next morning. The band sold seven CDs (ten bucks per) at the show, which they figure is a good number considering the size of the crowd. Richenbacher's has invited them back, promising a Friday and Saturday gig as soon as the band is ready to return. In fact, the band is already planning spring tours to Tampa, Orlando, Clearwater. A little regional domination.
It's been a long weekend, and after we drop off Feiles, Wall, Coogan, and Friedman at the house, Joel Schantz and Edelson make a few comments about the band's physical state. "Jeez," Schantz says at one point, "we look like we just came back from twenty cities in twenty days. We did one show and we all look like we've been on the road for weeks. Can you imagine what'll happen when we start to tour seriously?"
On this night the band will play Chili Pepper on South Beach. I have a feeling it's going to be a good gig. As we roll into his driveway, Keith Schantz is humming along with Tom Petty's lyric "the future is wide open," and I know he believes it. I believe it, too. It's 5:00 in the afternoon, clear as a bell, and the sun shines down.
