Another Valentine’s Day is upon us, and without any sort of date lined up, I’m destined to spend it at home before checking out some rock at the Mercury Lounge. This is a solid option for a kid who isn’t carrying a heavy heart, but this holiday, as much as you’d like to say you don’t care, isn’t the best day to spend alone. Maybe next year I could persuade someone to make the trip to the Philippines for this makeout party, (thanks Beach). Instead of spending this time getting all Oberst on your, I’d like to take this opportunity to send my love to my family and friends who contribute to making my life so damn kick ass. Without all of you, my life would be a lot less interesting. Thanks and have a beautiful Valentine’s Day.
Friday comes with mixed reviews attributed mostly impart to the fowl mood that cast a shadow over my late night activities. Most of the evening was roses. My night began around 7pm when Noah stopped in for a brief hang before we went on our separate ways. We sat around talking about Sam Champion and Saturday’s festivities before I left to meet a new friend at Max Fish. Cara, who reminded me that we had met before at one of Christine’s parties in Brooklyn, expressed some interest in penning a piece or two for Loose, so we met to break some ice and explain our mission. Despite our conversation getting cut short by dinner plans, I had a killer time getting to know Cara.
Our time was cut short because the Asians were taking me to Chinatown for dinner. Whoa, I shouldn’t say the Asians, but the cab that picked me up had Christie, Julia and Hawkins in the back seat. We rolled down to some killer joint on Mott just north of Canal Street. It was the kind of speak easy your Asian friends only know about. We rocked a family style dinner that was huge and mad cheap. The only problem was the bones in the duck that made Julia have a minor freak out. The food was kind of oily, which plagued my stomach for the rest of the evening, but it didn’t matter because, at the end of the day, I was able to say I’d eaten both meals with Hawkins.
After our meal we headed to the Luna Lounge to see Walk Humongous minus Stevo. There were some familiar faces in the crowd, but you could obviously feel the tension left in the wake of the Jesus Crisis departure. The band took the stage and played some killer warm up tune with their backs turned to the crowd. From there it felt like a downhill slide that is all too natural when a band loses their guitar player the night before a gig. It was apparent that Max has grown used to not having a guitar in his hands, but he did his best to keep up with Colin and Noah while trying to sing. It will come back with more practice, but Friday night wasn’t anything pretty. A few songs into the show, I had to bolt, but I heard the rest of the set was crazy. Bloody lips sink ships. Look for Walk Humongous to get back on track in the weeks to come.
As I rolled up to the Mercury, Vaughn hastily asked me to hold the front door for a minute. I kind of laughed thinking he was joking, but then he bolted inside the club so I pretended to be authoritative. A few minutes later he was back and told me he had to walk a blind couple through the crowd and into the backroom. With work now behind me, I stepped into the club only to be greeted by Essie and Dr. Kong. Helen and Brenda were also near the front door waiting eagerly for the Baby Dayliner set. We snagged a drink and headed to the back corner to catch the end of the Bling Kong set.
If you don’t already know, Bling Kong is a collective of kids who are all show and more go. There was something like nine or ten people onstage, half of which were playing an instrument. I couldn’t see to well, but there were three drummers, a guitar player or two, a bass player and four cheerleaders. The sound wasn’t 100%, but they made up for it with hilarious theatrics, cheers and some crazy visuals being projected on a small screen. Bling Kong is there to have a good time, and when watching this band you can’t help but smile. They have it all, hot girls, 8T’s inspired tunes and some Grease esq duets. Check them out if you are a fan of fun.
During change over the room started to fill with familiar faces and we settled in for a kick ass set by Baby Dayliner. If there is one person that has a queue for Valentine’s dates, it would be this cat. He could the shit out of Har Mar Superstar in any dance off while Casey Spooner sat in the corner wondering what he’s doing wrong. Baby D’s one man show is amazing. Imagine if Kevin Bacon had a sultry romantic voice and was prone to showing up at local clubs to do karaoke over early New Order inspired beats. He took the stage masked behind a black bandana, and by the third or fourth song this gangster had the whole room bouncing to his preprogrammed beats. The guy has style, and though I can’t say much about his records, his live show blew me away.Near the end of the set, I packed it in and returned home in a pissy mood. Sleep wasn’t in the cards until I broke my promise to Jesus and caught a buzz. It was sweet dreams from then on out.
Saturday I woke up and killed some time hanging out with Builder and his friend Pat from CMU. After some crappy basketball, I met up with Beach for some Clinton Street brunch. My meal consisted of some clam chowder (say chow-dar!), and a Croquet Monsieur or something. It was basically a delicious grilled ham and Swiss. It may become my new weekend staple. David Cross was dining a few tables away, and I wanted to get the nerve to ask him about the rumors regarding Arrested Development’s cancellation. Thankfully those were dispelled when Liz sent me this link regarding the show. Check out the “Special Message,” and breathe a sigh of relief.After breakfast Beach and I decided it would be appropriate to cruise into the afternoon with a Carbomb so we stopped by Nice Guy Eddie’s for a quickie. The rest of my afternoon was spent listening to records and talking to mom about her latest casino exploit. It’s kind of hilarious that mom and Bruce hit up the casino every other weekend. It gives them this sort of trashy adventurous side. My mom’s a hustler, yo. As the sun went down, I proceeded to hang with Kyle while making a mix tape or two for the Loose Record party. By 8pm Del, Matt, Kabbir, Miriam, Josh and Pat joined in the 186 preshow hang. A little after 9pm we hit the streets.
What is it with the door guy at Luna Lounge? He can’t remember a face for shit. I’ll go in the club, pop outside for a second and then he’ll ask me for ID when I reenter. It’s without fail. It’s not a big deal, but com’n you big cowboy, help me out. We arrived to a decently packed room for Frank Bango’s set which was tampered by the pack of kids filling the front half of the room by sitting on the floor. It’s a fucking rock show people. If you want to sit down, go down the street to the Living Room and leave your balls at home. Fuck! That shit really annoys the piss out of me. Anyway, Bango was playing his solid take on Elvis Costello rock. There is no other way to describe his style. He has the Elvis bit down to his onstage mannerisms. Great songs played by an even greater guy.
During changeover the room began to fill with more familiar faces. I ran into Dave right after he had spilled a drink all over some girl’s birthday cake. He felt really bad, but the incident was pure hilarity. I was also fortunate enough to take a tequila shot with Beach and Bango as we waited for Sam Champion. By the time Noah and the boys took the stage, the back room was packed so we had to open the doors so the spillover could hear the show in stereo. This was my second Sam Champion show in just over a week, and to be quite frank, they kicked major ass. The band just keeps getting better as their balls for the rock continue to grow. They are taking more chances, rocking out with more abandon and blowing my mind on a bi-monthly basis. Scott RANA joined the boys for a rousing rendition of Vampire Blues. It was funny to watch Noah prance around the stage sanz guitar. They bookended the show with new(ish) songs, the first being the BSP sounding track I love so much and the last being Cheadlebug which is a gem a la Sean.
At the end of their set I bolted over to The Hanger to make sure Mike was holding down the fort in proper fashion. He began spinning a bit after my arrival, and the Loose Record crew took turns pumping out the jams. Christina did a top notch job trading email addresses for PBR’s and buttons. Hopefully you all got some schwagg, and if you didn’t ask me the next time you see me and I’ll gladly hook you up. The place remained pretty full throughout the course of the evening and the bartenders looked nice and busy. Thanks so much to the kids who came out and supported the cause and thanks to Natalka and Betsy for being so gracious. Hopefully there will be more in the future so all you suckers who missed it can come out and watch Mike and I spin more hip hop. A quick note, my highlight must have been screaming the words to NOFX’s Bob with Mike and Rebecca as the night came to a close.
On Sunday I was able to get out of bed at a reasonable hour thanks to a phone call from Jenna a little after the clock struck noon. She persuaded me to get off my ass and meet her on 59th and 5th so we could check out Christo's The Gates while the weather was agreeable. After the battle to find a working subway, I only managed to be a few minutes late. We dove headfirst into the mass of people there to get a glimpse of the “art”. Our impression of the entire project could be summed up with one word, meyhhh. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as I thought it might be, but damn, there were heaps of people there to prove me wrong. My favorite part was the Gatekeepers who pranced around in some Pre-School sham with a staff made out of a paint roller with a tennis ball attached to the top. They were the real stars.
So Jenna and I pranced through the park. She gawked at dogs while I expressed my nervousness about being around so many people. We eventually decided we had enough and hit the streets. We made it to the 86th Street theater for a 3:30pm showing of The Aviator. Note to Martin: please try to make a movie somewhere near 2 hours long. This shit you’ve been pulling has got my knickers in a bunch. Please return to the gold old days. The film was decent, but my ass fell asleep halfway through and my antsy discomfort reigned supreme. Thankfully I didn’t want to come off as a weirdo, so I managed to sit still throughout most of the film.After parting ways with Jenna, I once again screwed up my subway entrance, (none of the signs said Uptown ONLY). All in all it cost me $8 to go uptown and back. Once my feet were firmly planted on more familiar ground, I stopped into Westville to say hello to Christie, Bri and Sam while they finished up their dessert. It’s always a pleasure to sit around with those girls and talk shop. Remember ladies, Jay Belin is a girl’s best friend. Ok, I just punched myself where my balls should be. Anyway, on my way down to 186, I stopped by Hawkins and we rolled down to the apartment to watch Arrested Development. Las night’s episode was hilarious. You should definitely tune in every Sunday at 8:30pm. It’s well worth it. We ordered some tots from Criff dog and wasted away flipping back and forth from The Grammy’s to the Family Guy. Does anyone else still have a post Green Day performance boner? My pee-pee has been stricken by rigor mortis.
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