Live music is my bitch. After this weekend, I don’t want to hear a damn thing about CMJ because it will be a mess. The past few days have been a warm up to the looming festival, but thankfully my schedule will be hampered by various shifts at Webster Hall. Don’t get me wrong, CMJ is great, but the hectic few days run most of us ragged. I’ll be checking one show each day following my work at the door. Thursday through Sunday was a miniature festival of sorts that involved tons of beers and some pretty solid rock.
Round 1: The Big Sleep @ Mercury Lounge.
This might get said a lot, but Jay Belin has a new favorite local band. The Big Sleep blew Kyle, Beach and I away Thursday night at the Merc. We unassumingly rolled into the club hoping to throw down a few cheap beverages prior to cruising down to the Knit. We had no idea what kind of psyche drenched noise assault we were in for. They were honestly fantastic. As we made way to the back room, The Big Sleep were luring onlookers with a quiet keys driven number before blowing the crowd away Back to the Future style with big blues hooks and a rhythm section that aimed to destroy. My ears bleed with joy. It was the loudest rock I’ve heard since Sin-e, but the difference was this time it was warranted. Though I’m not the biggest Mogwai fan, if you dig that style, you will love The Big Sleep. They have that edge with less metal and more slide guitar and peddle work that will keep your head nodding in nervous anticipation for the coming bridge. Do yourself a huge favor; buy some earplugs and see The Big Sleep.
Round 2: Bloc Party @ Knitting Factory.
We met with D. and her friend Kara after the show. We hopped cabs and made way for Leonard Street. I’m definitely not a fan of the Knit, but the promise of Car Bombs and PBR were getting me excited. After a bit of a wait in line we made it to the front room bar to get nice a liquored up for Bloc Party’s first NYC show. We ran into numerous kids looking to get a taste of this previously forbidden fruit. A few months ago I was lucky enough to score a rough cut of their EP which included a solid remix of Banquet. That record along with the countless viewings of the Little Thoughts video had me so revved up for this gig. Unfortunately I was let down. While I’ve read reports that Bloc Party impressed, my opinion is they delivered less than expected. Yes, they are young, and in time they will probably perfect their sound, but the mix at the Knit didn’t help much. There are all the obvious reference points to make, but you can read that somewhere else. Hopefully their set was better on Saturday night, but after Thursday night there was no way you could find me in line at the Tribeca Grand Hotel. Maybe when they stop back in the New Year I’ll be pleasantly surprised.
By the end of their set, I was a mess, and if a certain someone reads this, I apologize for being such a “cranky McGee.”
Round 3: The Bahamas @ Luna Lounge.
My Friday night was spent sitting around 186 waiting for Trevor to show up. Around 8:30pm I received a distressing phone call. Trevor’s car broke down a half hour away from Clearfield, and he couldn’t get it towed and fixed until the morning. Therefore my weekend had a bit of a black cloud hanging over it. Fortunately, Mike Roth decided to take a vacation from his Brooklyn apartment in order to sleep on our couch and party with the BHC all weekend. He showed up along with some other kids who were pumped to see our friends play.
With a belly full of my new favorite crack, we strolled to the Luna Lounge for Bahamas rock. Like the last show, this one felt like a reunion of sorts. It was great to see everyone out supporting our friends. The Bahamas set wasn’t one of their best, but they always deliver a good time. There were some technical difficulties that prevented them from reaching full steam, but the new songs continue to impress me. They are taking their time composing the new tracks, and it certainly shows. Throw in tons of self-deprecating remarks from Dan, a Rolling Stones cover and Nick’s onstage demeanor made it a great night.
Following the show we decided to move the party to The Hanger which if you don’t know used to be Plant Bar. Kara, D. and I brought up the rear and walked into an instant boozer. The Hanger has $2 PBRs and Old English which make for a party. Unfortunately the bartender was a bit unpleasant, and by unpleasant I mean she was a dick to most of us. We were pumping that place full of cash, but she persisted to give most of us shit. What’s up with that? Luckily it didn’t hamper the good time and the dude who was playing records brought the hits, (i.e. Jawbreaker’s Boxcar. They shut us down early because we nearly drank the bar dry. After Mike and I walked some people home, we returned to 186 and were surprised that the party had moved to my apartment. An hour later I was passed out on a milk crate in Kyle’s room while he tried to show me how to make beats in his studio.
Round 4: Hobo Fights @ Clinton Street Bakery.
Why the fuck does all the crazies live in the Lower East Side. Ok, maybe they don’t live in the neighborhood, but they seem to find me when I walk out the door. I guess you could say I’m a hobo magnet. Let me explain. Mike, Builder and I arrived at Clinton Street Bakery and were hit with a 30 minute wait. It didn’t really matter because part of the lure of Clinton is the front stoop hang with some serious anticipation of coffee and grub. While sitting there we noticed some dude getting in the face of a girl who was waiting. We thought they were together so we paid him no mind. Then the magnet kicked in and dude was standing in front of me trying to shake my hand. Being slightly germ phobic, I tried to avoid touching this guy which prompted him to explain to me that I should take the peace because I don’t want the flipside. I asked him to leave us alone so he got in my face and told me he would drag me out into the street and kill me. I asked him if that was a threat and a second before conflict ensued, the hostess came out and said she was going to call the cops.
Bring on the second hobo who was actually a nice guy besides being completely cracked out. He told us he spent 22 of his 36 years locked up, but now he is out and he just wants to play country rock music. He also informed us that, “He doesn’t care if you are a fag. I’ve slept with guys. Sometimes you just want to put a bra on your head and wear a g-string while walking past the Hell’s Angels.” Hobo number two also told us that he used to run guns for the Spanish mafia and one day he walked through Englewood butt naked. Oh yeah, he was also scouted by the Dodgers because he never batted under .400. This guy was a peach. He told us he would bust up aggressive hobo if he came back. When agro hobo came back down, he immediately walked up to him. We didn’t hear the conversation, but they ended up leaving together. You can’t make this shit up.
Round 5: Conan O’Brien and The Black Keys @ Bowery Ballroom.
After a solid meal and some more Sparks, Mike, Builder and I stopped by the Mercury Lounge to grab Beach before walking down to the Bowery. We walked in and were startled by the set up for the New Yorker Festival. Seeing the ballroom full of chairs gives you a different perspective on its size. In any event we made way to the balcony where Merida was tending the bar. Um, if you don’t know Merida, she is the gorgeous bartender who is sweeter than raw sugar. She took excellent care of us throughout the evening.
Conan O'Brien was piss your pants funny. Though the interviewer was on the terrible side of the spectrum, Conan’s hilarious banter kept the crowd in stitches. He told stories of being a huge Beatles fan, parenthood and some of the various blunders that make for “talk show gold.” The intertwined various clips from his shows along with a clip from a pilot he developed back in the 80’s that never saw the light of day. It starred Adam West as a has been actor and the stories surrounding the production (i.e. Adam West’s car show appearances) were great. After the interview the audience was invited to ask questions. Having a bit of liquid courage built up, I went downstairs and took the microphone for the last question. My nerves were out of control and you could tell in my shaky voice. I’m no good when talking with my comedic idols, but I managed to spit out a question regarding his opinion on the latest Simpson’s episodes. Conan was diplomatic in his answer, but just making 3 minutes of eye contact with that man made my evening.
After the room cleared we had to help the club get set for the Black Keys show. It was just a matter of stacking all the chairs against the wall so the floor would be cleared. It took us a matter of 10 minutes and we were rewarded with a barrage of drinks in the basement bar. While we waited Miriam, Christie and Daylen came through and we had a nice crew assembled for the huge rock show that was to come. The Cuts were first up, and though I feel for their record last summer, their live show was a bit of a snooze. We ended up standing the balcony taking shots before Beach and I pull a successful Culkin on Mike. It was his first time going down, but it seemed to be a great precursor to the shitfest that was on its way.
About an hour or 3 shots later, we were downstairs getting pumped for The Black Keys. This rubber city duo produce seriously fuzzed out rock that recalls the goodness of delta blues and references Hendrix like it’s their job. Wait, you say you don’t like The Black Keys? Well my friend, you need to check them out live and then try to explain it to me. They were unbelievable despite their claim to be under the weather. They ripped through so many solid jams. It felt like every time one of their big jams made it through the speakers, we were running upstairs for a shot. By the time their set was over, we were covered in beer and ear-to-ear smiles. We may have been the only people dancing in the room, but we certainly represented BHC style.
During the encore Mike and Builder grabbed me by the shoulders and used me as a battering ram to get to the front of the stage. We must have invaded some jackass’ personal space because he tried to start shit with us. This I can’t understand. It’s a general admission rock show. Deal with it fucker. And if you aren’t going to shake your ass, get the fuck out of our way. Mike screamed, “Shut up fuck, I booked this band,” which seemed to shut him up. Thank god the dude couldn’t do on the spot fact checking. After the show we found ourselves wrestling in the streets and running from cop cars. Mike also took it upon himself to try and fire up as many car alarms as possible. When I say rare form, I definitely mean it. He was an all-star.
Round 6: Franz Ferdinand @ Roseland Ballroom
Sunday was a nice day for me to get reacquainted with my couch. Friends kept calling me to explain how I was wasting a fabulous day, but it didn’t matter because I had football and a blanket. Christie and Sam stopped by to keep me company for a bit, but for the most part, I sat in the dark watching my Jets go 3-0 until the early evening. I had to pop by Dana’s apartment for a quick hang to pick up the tickets. If you read this Dana, thanks so much for the tickets, you are top of the pops.
As the evening progressed, Hawkins, Daylen and Beach stopped by 186 as we gathered for a seldom trip above 14th Street. We hit the street and linked up with Christie who was also part of this evening’s crew. Since the F was not running uptown we decided to split cabs up to the club. We met up with Christina out front and made our way to the mezzanine level for a bird’s eye view of the Scottish wonder-lads. Seeing a show from the second level kicks the floor square in the balls. It’s so much easier to enjoy a band when you have tons of room and easy access to bevvies. Luckily Hawkins was throwing his credit card around like a mad man, so we got the hook up. The poor kid was a mess by the time we hit the subway. He was so hilarious, but in desperate need of a Culkin. Unfortunately he caught on before Beach had a chance to push, and the Culkin was registered as unsuccessful.
Oh, and as for the band, Franz delivered another fantastic set. Though their first track sounded like garbage, the sound guy quickly tweaked the levels and made my heart stop. They played my favorites, Michael and Matinee along with the hits like Darts of Pleasure and Take Me Out. The latter got the crowd so fired up. Naturally Alex’s shirt was nearly off by the time their set ended, but they did come out to grace us with an encore. They also played Sofia from one of their early Ep’s which sounded great. Franz’s dominance will continue if they successfully pull off their work with Dan the Automator. Bravo Franz. You rock.
We hit the subway home, and I couldn’t help but think I’m one of the luckiest kids around. Round 6 was definitely the knock out punch. Thanks goes out to all those who helped make this weekend one of the best. Also thanks goes out to anyone who made it through this entire post. It was a marathon.
1 Comments:
sorry to hear the bloc party show wasn't what you expected. i know what you mean about them being young and yet to perform their live show. i still think these kids have alot of song writing ability and could go on to be the full package with a little more experience playing live. scat
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