The amount of incompetence I have to deal with on a daily basis. There are numerous projects floating across my desk at any given point of the day and at the same time other departments expect me to guess what they need for a given event. These people frustrate me, but you know what? I’m not going to sweat it.
After a weekend filled with heavy drinking, I had to drag my ass into work this past Sunday. No big worries because I’m in need of the overtime. I’ll also be working 9 to 5 this Sunday but time and a half is my bitch. Bring on extra hours. Once I finished up in the office I rode over to Sidewalk Café to watch the Zangrilli sisters and Kara enjoy some brunch. It was great to see Kara even if it was only for a few minutes. Hopefully we’ll get down to Washington D.C. in the near future and hook her up with Whitney because he’s so cute.
Then I rode over to Beach’s apartment to indulge in what we consider the best Sunday afternoon activity. We sat around watching the Yankee game and the PGA Championship while sipping Margaritas and pretended we were Jamaican. To top off the evening, Oveis came over as our wings arrived. It was a deliciously decadent (most over used phrase in Food Editorials) meal that sent me on my way. Another quick stop at the Zangrilli’s for some Night At the Roxbury on TBS and I was returned home content with a well done weekend.
On Monday my international students arrived for their prep course at the Law School. It’s actually a pretty interesting day because I get to meet so many people with diverse backgrounds and varied perceptions of New York City. After our reception I rode home for a quick bite to eat before my first attempt at working for the Bowery Ballroom.
I was told to report to the venue by 7:45 pm. In an effort to show my promptness, I left 10 minutes early and rode Blue Steel. Like a moron I left my bike lock in my room. I ended up being 5 minutes late and covered in sweat. Jeremy who must be the Killers tour manage (or manager) set me up by doing count in for me. Since the show was a bit of a one off, all they had were t-shirts, but as soon as the door opened they were selling like condoms to teenagers. The night progressed with the occasional jackass being a douche, but time flew by without any problems. Props to the Hong Kong who sounded great from my spot in the basement. Their manager and a few band members hung out during the Killers set and we made nice. The Killers sounded like the Killers. I’m not so fond of them, but the lure is obvious. Nice kids playing danceable tunes.
Beach managed to keep me out past my bedtime. We turned it up Monday night. We closed the Bowery and then made our way over 2A where we were joined by Marc and Denise who finished at the Mercury Lounge then strolled through. The night grew late and I managed to sleep through my alarm on Tuesday, but it wasn’t much of a problem.
Tuesday was so fucking amazing. After a long day in my cube, I headed home with the blog on my mind. While passing the Mercury Lounge I heard a familiar sound from its depths. Sam Champion was sound checking for their gig later that evening. I stood around until they finished up and we all cruised over to 186 for a hang. With dinner calling our name, we found Builder and went to Croxley’s Ale House. Max was in the establishment and informed me that Walk Humongous played a show last weekend. To my disappointment I had forgotten. MAX! CALL ME WHEN YOU HAVE A SHOW!
With a belly full of deliciousness, we headed back to the house and once again I had blog work on the menu. After writing the first few paragraphs of the last post, Christie and Max came over to chill before going to the Mercury. After an hour or so, we got to the Mercury just in time for Noah, Ryan and Jack to take the stage. I must say that Sam Champion brought some serious rock on Tuesday. They made the conscious effort to turn up the guitars, and it tremendously improved their sound. Noah also has been adding some feedback to his guitar parts which helps Sam Champion walk the line between indie and jangle. It was the first time I couldn’t help but thinking Noah sounded like Noah and not like Neil, Jeff or Stephen.
After their set, Sean Bones, Beach and I piled into a cab and made way for The Bowery Ballroom. One of my all time favorites, The Libertines were set to play at 10:15. We ran in the club as the intro for Don’t Look Back Into Sun was queued up. Let me make clear one thing; even though Pete is off in some drug inspired fantasy world, his band is still putting on amazing live shows. With the guitarist from the Damn Personals filling in, the Libertines ripped through a set that included Skag and Bone, Can’t Stand Me Now, Vertigo, Time for Heros and Boys In the Band. My ass was shaking the whole time, so much so that when they ended their encore with I Get Along, I nearly broke my ankle. It still hurts today, but I’m toughing through it in the name of rock. Carl can manage that band without Pete. The only thing missing is the slurred, indiscernible lyrics of Pete. That and you don’t get to see as much man love. The Libertines kept things together with Gary’s tight as hell, cymbal crashing work on the kit and the sharing of a bottle of whiskey.
We finished the evening in the basement where Tequila Tuesday quickly became the unforgiving Wednesday. I managed to hold down conversations with Jo and Juliet, but my abilities were so hindered by the time last call was hollered that I cut my losses and went to bed.
Final Tuesday note: My apologies to Alister who was expecting me to open the door, but booze reared its ugly head and forced my brain to shut down.
With a couple of heavy evenings strung together, my plan was to keep it low key on Wednesday. Hawkins met me at 186 after work and we sat around watching The Warriors. Can you dig it? Have you seen that film before? It’s hilarious and it deserves its cult status. With the thought of New York Gangs in my head, (along with some smoke), I rode over to Rosario’s to meet Oveis before heading back to the Bowery, (I’m going to ask if I can hang a hammock and just start sleeping there). We met up with Beach in front of the venue and said hello to Noah who was working the door.
We hung out downstairs before the set, but the heat started getting to me so I made way to the main floor with Tumbleweed, Lucy and Matt. We found our spot in the back and settled in for a lot of echo heavy vocals from the young lads in The Music. Their set didn’t have me moving as much as the Roseland set a year or so ago, but that’s probably because Graeme and I were all cocked up that evening. I miss my Scottish pale. Anyway, they played their recognizable tracks like The People and Take the Long Road. They also played the title track to their new record, Welcome to the North and their new single Freedom Fighters. The crowd was going ballistic. It reminded me of what Manchester must have looked like when the Happy Mondays hit it big. Hippies man. Fucking Hippies.
After quick stop at Luna Lounge to see Arbor Day play a few songs, I went home to get some much needed rest.
3 Comments:
First three or four songs of the Music's set just had no momentum...then they finally picked up, they were rocking out, modern day zeppelin of some sorts rockin' my ears, and then,
no fucking encore?
Rookies!
-Tumbleweed
the music did not impress. modern day zeppelin?
the guy barely fuckin' sings. and the riffs are stock.
leave it to four on the floor to get the kids movin'.
ringo would never play four on the floor.
fer chrrisakes give the hi-hat a break.
xo
disco
oh disco,
see the one problem with your criticism of new rock (yes, that sound rooted in the four on the floor up tempo beat) is that you fault it for being catchy. this aspect of the music gives a lot of us a chance to connect to it on a base level which is nice because we don't all play it, and most of us don't have a technical understanding of its architecture. we respond to what can connect with. dancing, moving, rocking out... they don't always require that the music be in timeless or classic forms. they don't require outstanding talent, but that’s the draw. this music finds a way let the untrained ear hear the easily accessible characteristics of rock arranged in a fashion that facilitates a good time.
i'm not embracing mediocrity, but i have come to understand why i can enjoy some of the bands that may not go down in any history book but our own.
yup, its me.
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