Sorry Curt, you dropped the ball. This is a public service announcement that Curt Schilling can suck my mother fucking dick. You suck. Take your pussy ankle excuse back to Boston. The ALCS is far from over, but taking game one was a serious treat. The Red Sox gave a solid effort and didn’t give up, but in the end our beloved Yankees took game one along with the gem from Kurt’s doughnut. Unfortunately these eyes didn’t get to watch the entire game. The first four innings were watched at 186 on mute while Builder and I had a fairly productive meeting. The meeting ran late which prevented me from popping into Rothko for Say Hi To Your Mom’s set, but I ran into Greg on my corner who said it was solid.
Around 9:30pm I cruised through J.P. Wards on Avenue A to say hello to Moser, Christie, Yaps and Newhouse. Yes, Moser is in town. The bitch showed up out of nowhere. I’m always happy to see the kid, but do his visits always have to be covert operations? My stay at the bar was cut short because The Libertines were scheduled to hit around 10:15pm. While hustling up 2nd Avenue, I was reminded that Cami is taking the GRE this morning so I gave her a quick buzz to wish her luck. We got wrapped up in a conversation about ice cream versus sorbet, but that’s neither here nor there.
Julia was waiting outside of Webster Hall when I strolled up. She was waiting for The Libertines to get back to the club so I shot a quick hello to her and Jomo before passing through the gate. Adam Ghory greeted me upon entering the main room. Yes, Adam is in town. He stopped in for the show last night and should be in town for a couple days before his travels lead him either, “south or west”. We had a quick catch up session while we waited for the rock. The wait ran a little long which gave me time to see Megan and Laura who came early for Radio 4’s set. While waiting in the back of the room, Mike D. and his friend Chris showed up. Mike and I became friends while The Realistics were in their prime. We sporadically run into each other all over the city and our conversations never seem to miss a beat. Check him out later this month when he plays bass with The Blue Sparks at an upcoming Pianos gig. The kids from The Realistics are always in good spirits. I just wish they were still playing together. One last mention before getting to the show, Jo D. came through before the set erupted and I finally got around to wishing her happy birthday, (I missed her party, but the actual date isn’t till early next week).
There are more people to mention in regards to my fruitful Tuesday evening, but let me talk about the show for just a minute. With CMJ looming in the not so distant future (if you are looking for a preview, scroll down to yesterday’s post), we settled in for another outstanding Libertines set. This band continues to impress me. They play rock music as it was meant to be. They may not exude all the attributes of their punk predecessors, but they play their show with some serious moxy. Each band member plays their part perfectly.
Bassist John Hassal makes Mr. Mope from the Strokes look like a fool. Though he plays the same role as his New York brethren, John adds some backing vocals to the mix along with some actual smiles so you know he’s still alive. Last night his bass was turned up so loud that the combination of it and the bass drum made for a crushing one-two rhythmic punch to the gut. This brings me to Gary on the kit. This boy can fucking play. No joke. I can totally see why David Johansen wanted Gary playing his UK gigs. His kit contains a huge arsenal of percussion instruments including heaps of symbols and some chimes. Gary introduced one of their songs with a two minute drum solo, and I wish my memory held the capability of recounting which track. My dumbass is in crucial need of some extensive note taking.
The rhythm section filled the room, but the piercing guitars stole the show. I’m sick of hearing people whine about the loss of Pete. Some say the band isn’t the same, and yes, I would definitely agree. The fact remains they can rock without him. Though their set lacks the sexual tension between ax wielders, Pete’s replacement is full of energy. Since the last show, I was under the impression the rhythm guitarist was from the Damnwells, but Mike said he wasn’t. Sean Bones, who spent most of the show in the balcony with Sarah, claimed it was a member of the Damnwells, so I’m not going to confirm or deny the statement. Anyway, the kid can play the hell out of his guitar and his persistent bouncing around is a welcomed addition to the riot like atmosphere of their set.
Despite their punk party lure, there are still demons embedded deep within the psyche of Carl(os) and the rest of the original members. The new songs reflect the uneasiness shared between the band and their former mate. Old songs like Good Old Days echo a new sentiment that permeates through the entire set. Carlos has taken the reigns of this band and intends to steer the ship until it takes on enough water to fully sink. Can they last long enough to complete, “A list of things they tend to do tomorrow?” With the talent left in Pete’s wake, its my contention that The Libertines have a bright future. It never hurts to have Mick Jones on your side, but even so, the urgency of their sound coupled with their emulation of an attitude that only existed in a small vacuum in time leads me to believe that The Libertines deserve to continue honing their craft and building their public appreciation.
The set list didn’t have many variations to it, but it did include favorites such as: The Delancey, Can’t Stand Me Now, Boys In The Band, Don’t Look Back Into The Sun, What A Waster and an set closing rendition of I Get Along.
My post show plans of catching a good night sleep were thwarted when Ghory and I ran into Noah, Ryan, Pooja and Emma while walking up 3rd Avenue. We met with Sean Bones and walked down to Welcome to The Johnsons where Moser, Newhouse and Christie had regrouped. We pounded away at drinks while various monkeys cruised through the bar. Juliet came through which is always a welcome addition. She is always flustered in a good way and I’ll always dig on her even if she thinks The Libertines are nothing without Pete. Zach from Octagon and his roommate Benny added to the massive crew. Zach is one of those guys you see all over the place and then you meet him one night while wrapped in the middle of a heavy boozer. Then, much like our previous encounter, we exchanged greetings full well knowing we had met before, but we couldn’t pinpoint the instance. This time he’ll surely be remembered as Zach, a lo-fi kind of guy.
As the night pressed on, Emma refused to put her camera away. Hopefully she’ll email me a few of the pictures for the blog. She also spent a good portion of our conversation busting my chops. Who could get upset with Emma? She is a sweetheart. Pooja and I discussed the necessity of moving our relationship out off the interweb and into reality. We are also considering starting a board game club, but we haven’t decided if it will be completely underground. I’ll keep you posted.
As sobriety slipped through my fingertips, Moser and I got wrapped up in a conversation about our sisters. Moser shares the same affliction as me. We are middle children sandwiched by two ladies. Our problems often overlap and since we have the same ideals about family, its nice to get some relative advice. By the time kids like Stevo and Jo D. showed up, we were all in the bag, and I was getting nervous about scoring some sleep. After the first round of goodbye’s Ramie showed up and prolonged my exit. My final answer showed up around 2:30am and I returned home completely satisfied with our Tequila Tuesday efforts.
Sometimes I get down about my plot in New York City and then a night like Tuesday happens. It’s just a solid affirmation that the kids are definitely alright.
6 Comments:
hey fuckstick. guess you forgot that the yankees= george bush. the evil empire. if the yanks win so does bush. the heart of america is in boston. don't ever forget it. p.s.- everyone hates you.
the shitpimping clown who wrote the above doesn't have a clue what the fuck he's talking about. i mean boston kicks ass, but a new york it isn't. plus, no one thinks of the new york yankees and bush as linked. maybe once upon a time the term "yankee" had meaning outside of baseball, but in this day and age? scat
ahhh, yes, i love the yankees.
i love bush.
i hate paul.
eat my ass.
kerry/torre 2004
of course their not linked... except maybe through their shared belief that god has granted them the right to rule... but seriously, if the red sox manage to win, don't you think that would be a boost for kerry? and wouldn't bush somehow tie the yankees to 9/11 to iraq? maybe? maybe?
if i thought a bosox win would help kerry I'd be wearing a "vote for pedro" t-shirt. unfortunately... i don't see the link. you are right on one thing... god does wear a yankee's hat. rooting against the yankees is the new kabbalah. hop the trend train you bunch of haters.
and i'm not one to think we have the series wrapped up in any fashion. thank god we got both wins at home against 2 strong pitchers. did you see the stat that this is the first time the bosox lost back to back games with those 2 power houses on the mound. and lets not take away from lieber. that guy threw a hell of a game (from what i read).
Jay--_Sadly, I can't take credit for the first post, but I still hate the Yankees...and you.
--Mr PB
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