The Wee Ones Parade
Hoping to find a good job when I get to America Our band has a bad habit of losing stuff when we play shows.
We've lost quite a bit of equipment, either though forgetfulness
to outright theft. So we got even Thursday. Zack swiped a
bass guitar from the Dutch Kills and took it home before they
even went onstage. What chutzpah! They were forced to use
his bass, which he thoughtfully left behind for them. I guess
at some point they will return each other's axes.
The show was fun, if brief (Motico
is pleased to report our set clocked in almost exactly at
the half-hour time limit). It is interesting to note that
not only is Galapagos no longer using their back room for
performance, it has been almost completely stripped, now just
a big raw space. What will they do with this thing? I am hoping
they sell it to be used as Williamsburg's first Orange Julius
store.
Then I was off to see The
Giraffes at their early show for industry bigwigs. Why
do label reps do this, hold shows at 8pm that should only
happen after midnight? I guess it's telling about the Motico
show that not only did I play the gig, walk all the way to
the J train and go to Sin-e, but i was only 15 minutes late
for the Giraffes set. Sheesh. Then it was time for Black
Cat Revolver, who tore things up nicely. Finally we went
over to Delancey to catch Fresh
Kills, who turned out what may very well be their Best
Show Ever. I dunno why it was so good, I mean, I've been drunker
before at their shows before.
Motico! |
The Giraffes |
Black Cat Revolver |
The weekend was all about Lightning
Bolt, whom we saw both Friday and Saturday. Friday's show
was at Club
Exit, normally a Polish dance club. This was, short of
perhaps the White House, the single most inappropriate venue
to see a band like Lightning Bolt in the world. The club was
huge and garishly decorated with weird illuminated mushroom
things and a million types of vodka but not one bottle of
Irish whiskey in the whole place (there were at least 3 bars
within the club). The show sold out and was pretty much packed
to the rafters. And despite the size of the dancefloor upon
which LB played, they had to keep telling people to step back
as they were crowding the drum set.
So well behaved! |
Brian of Lightning Bolt begs the audience to let him live |
The audience denies him amnesty |
Saturday night, however, was the real gig. Held at Asterisk
and not really advertised, a good number of folks showed up,
but not the usual constant-crush one has come to expect of
the venue on a good night. The lack of advertising coupled
with the hurricane-force wind and rain, plus problems with
the L train meant only the most dedicated would turn out.
What a change from the previous night! The performance room
did get pretty packed but it was no more than anyone expected.
The band got down to business and in a couple of minutes,
the room temperature had jumped like 40 degrees. They couldn't
open the back door, fearing noise complaints. But every so
often some kind soul did crack the door a bit, providing much-needed
air (there was so much sweating going on that opening the
door produced a cloud of steam; I prayed it would start raining
inside). After about half the set I had to abandon the room
as I realized that even though I had stopped dancing I was
still sweating buckets (my fingers even got all wrinkled).
How does this band do this every night? When the set finally
ended, disheveled concertgoers were treated to the musical
styling of Puttin'
on the Ritz, who are BJ and Kevin. They play drums and
hoarsely 'sing' old standards like "The Girl from Impanena"
in such a way to completely squash out any of the pesky sentiment
of the original. This is handy for clearing a room after a
show, although many did stay to watch the wonder of it all.
Puttin' on the Ritz: clearing rooms
since '04
Posted By Jimmy
Legs | Non-PermaLink
|
A
sure sign that warmer weather is here is a sighting of the
First Cat on the Roof of Spring. Mr Bones still knows how
to get on the roof and then he wobbles around chasing squirrels
and generally risking a plunge through the tarpaper roofs
of the back patio. If he wasn't so damn fat we'd probably
let him wander, but there's something so discomfiting about
a big fat white cat on the neighbor's roof that makes us want
to herd him inside as soon as possible.
Buzz
took it upon himself to get into the mind of a cat on a roof,
so he climbed up there to conference with Bones, mano
e mano. He explained to Mr Bones that it looked like
he was close to breaking the plastic roof tiles, but Mr Bones
was strangely unmoved. As you can see, the neighbors were
very interested in removing the unsightly feline from the
skyline. Eventually Buzz just had to stuff Bones through my
window, but he's been trying to get back out there ever since.
Maybe we can just leave him on the roof all the time. If he
can just learn how to climb down by himself he'd have no need
to come back inside, and he can graze to his heart's content
in the yard. 
And
of course, you can meet Buzz in person tonight at 
I
went to check out 
And
I wonder if my own tolerance for the annoyance that drive
many people away from the live music scene will start to drop
at some point. I certainly go through long periods where rather
than brave the weather, the trains, the crowds and the possibly
watered-down liquor, I'd stay home and watch Heist for the
millionth time. But that doesn't seem likely to take over
any time soon, there are just too many good bands out there
to see. For instance ... [cue the plug] 
