I don't go out to see shows very often anymore. Back in the day (oh man, did I just write that? I did. And I did it completely sans irony too) it was a given that from about Thursday on through the weekend I'd be out at the local rock clubs watching bands. I'd sit in the back of the store where I worked and scour the local papers (usually The Phoenix) looking for shows to go to. I knew a bunch of people in bands so I'd see if they were playing or if there was a band I wanted to check out. One difficulty was the fact that I didn't drive and my apartment was in Jamaica Plain. This meant that I'd have to gauge how my evening was going and whether or not I had to hustle to make the last train home or not. Taking a cab somewhere was a luxury back then and reserved for...uh, special occasions. Let's just say I took the train a lot :-( .
The mere fact that I worked in a copy shop gave me an insight into who'd be playing on the weekend. Guys would come in (it was always guys coming in too...never the hot female bass player/keyboardist) to get copies made of the flyer for whatever band they were in. These guys had slaved over this frickin' flyer and were usually the most anal of all copy customers. "Dude, how come the motorcycle that I cut out of a magazine and then pasted on this drawing of me with my Telecaster looks all faded out?" It looks that way because ... well because this is just a fucking copy machine and not a giant 4-color printing press. Besides, no one is going to give a shit about the slightly faded chopper or the fact that your drummer's name is misspelled as they throw your flyer out or staple their own flyer on top of yours on the telephone pole. And no, I don't think that using goldenrod paper will get you signed.
Going to see shows back then meant going to a smokey bar crammed with people and the risk that your shoes were probably going to end up with beer on them (or something far worse depending on the scenario). There's an art and an etiquette to maneuvering through a crowd at a club without pissing off a lot of people and/or getting too annoyed yourself. The main thing to employ is politeness. The fact that you're shuffling sideways probably dipping your shoulder slightly and saying "excuse me" and "sorry" every two seconds lets those whom you are shoving out of your way know that you're not an asshole, you just want to get by. Even if the person you're trying to move past is totally blocking and being a douche, the onus is on you as the person who needs to pass through to be polite. Most people understand this process and will accommodate your passage. There are the occasional assholes who get all riled up but they tend to be rare. I have to admit I've used the ol' "rigid elbow" move on a few jackasses in my day. Basically that means as the person who is annoying you tries to squeeze by for the 50th time, you lock your elbow and prop it so that as they pass, they get a nice taste of the bony end of it. It's stupid really but it used to make me feel better back in 1991.
I do still go out on occasion and on Friday the 19th I went out with the Wiff, Sistah Souljah and Dee to see Ad Frank and The Fast Easy Women play upstairs at The Middle East. The show was great and I love seeing them play but now that I'm an old person I have some, let's call them reservations about going to see a band play. I used to go right up front at shows so that I could really get a good view and also to maximize the amount of damage done to my hearing (earplugs? we don't need no stinking earplugs! That was my mentality back then. Actually, it wasn't even that I thought that earplugs were "uncool" or whatever, it was more that I never even considered using them. I now have a lovely high-pitched sound permanently reminding me of how dumb I am). Now that I'm far more fragile and cranky I tend to go to the back of the club and find a place to stand where my back is up against a wall or pole or something so that when I get tired I can lean against it. But here's the kicker. It now seems that no matter where I stand in a club it is a traffic area.
The Middle East Upstairs is one of the few clubs that I used to go to that is still standing (R.I.P. Bunratty's, The Rat, The Channel, The Abbey, et al.) and I hope it doesn't go away (ok, TT's is pretty much the same too). The entrance is all the way in the back of this long skinny bar and once you go through the door, it's like your standing on a Green Line trolley on the T. Everyone gets jammed up in the doorway waiting to get to the bar and the little wall that separates this area from where the bands play doesn't help the situation at all. After standing in this area for a bit I made my way to the back of the room (by the soundboard) to check out the bands. Almost instantly it became apparent that this is going to be a major thoroughfare of peeps going from the bar back over to the far side of the club where the toilets are and back again. After the 100th time someone bumped into me I moved over between a couple of trash barrels and pushed them ever so slightly forward so that I had a buffer zone.
I thought that politeness has taken a backseat somewhat at shows but that's not really true. I think what's happened is that since I don't go out as much as I used to, I'm more sensitive to the near constant bumping and people standing too close. I'm old and far more cranky than I used to be so I notice that stuff more. I just have to remember that and get over myself. Ultimately I had a good time at the show and I was glad that I had gotten my sorry ass out of the house even if I did end up with beer stained shoes and gum on the back of my shirt (seriously...there must have been a wad of gum on the back wall and I leaned up against it for 3 hours...awesome).
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