I had no idea I needed former Glossary frontman Joey Kneiser’s Pure Positivity Power Hour so badly. I’ve been avoiding most of the streams and quarantine fun-time activities because I’m still in public, providing essential services. My part-time side job selling fancy booze in a sleepy suburb has metastasized into some sort of weird emergency priest-bartender-therapist gig. It’s draining, and I’ve spent most weekend nights sitting alone in the dark, drinking too much. Friday night, I sat alone in the dark, watching one of my favorite songwriters sing songs I hadn’t heard in forever, and it made all the difference. (I still drank too much, though.)
“Jolene made me do this because she said I had to get dressed,” Kneiser told the viewers isolating at home, brought together for an hour by this livestream. He was gently ribbing himself and his wife, who handled all the tech for the program. If you missed it, you can see the stream on Facebook. There wasn't a tip jar, but Kneiser asked that viewers make a donation to "some place trying to help in your area."
It's been a while since Kneiser has played out regularly. Glossary, among the finest bands to ever emerge from the scene surrounding MTSU in Murfreesboro, has been on indefinite hiatus for about six years. Following his 2015 solo album The Wildness, Kneiser directed the 2018 indie buddy comedy Mr. Presto, and he's spending a lot of his time chasing a toddler around the house these days. Thus, the stream started a little shakier than a prime Glossary show. But it didn’t take long for Kneiser to shake off the rust and dig deep into his catalog.
There were a handful of newer songs, and there were Glossary classics. Two highlights: “Little Caney,” a warm and subtle meditation on the importance of family, and “Blood on the Knobs,” an honest reflection on the hunger that drives musicians in a world where they're perpetually undervalued. Through his stripped-down Thin Lizzy-like swing and his Van Morrison-like ability to channel the life-giving power of rock ’n' roll, Kneiser conjured up images of muggy late-night porch hangs and a world-weariness that seems so innocent when you're looking at it in the rearview mirror. The experience brought some much-needed sobbing from this typically stoic service-industry veteran.
As viewers filtered into the stream and the comment section started firing off, it felt more and more like a perfect Middle Tennessee Friday night. Glossary cats Bingham Barnes, Todd Beene, Jason Manley and Kelly Smith Orcutt appeared in the comments, not to mention a dozen fine folks from a dozen great bands that I hadn’t thought about in a half decade.
“I can’t believe we haven’t had technical difficulties,” Kneiser exclaimed in true Blue Raider fashion. “I like it!”
It’s been a hard stretch for a lot of folks, and it ain't over yet. Nostalgia doesn’t always feel right, but on Good Friday, it felt like a miracle.
