Showing posts with label Ad Frank. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ad Frank. Show all posts

Sunday, February 28, 2010

You Shall Not Pass

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).

Monday, October 26, 2009

I Left the House Again

I went out Saturday night AND it was raining. I want extra credit for that. Ad Frank and the Fast Easy Women played out at Great Scott in Allston and since I hadn't seen them play in about a year and a half I really wanted to see this show. Plus, it being their record release, I figured it was going to be a good show. So The Wiff, my sis Mary and our friend Dee piled into the volvo (a.k.a. The Old Girl) and headed over to Allston.

We had plenty of time and so we had decided to grab something to eat before the show. The Wiff had made reservations at this cool Japanese place called Shabu Toki. I had found it while I was online looking for another restaurant over there (that seems to have closed, thank you ever-so-creepy Google Maps) and it looked interesting. I dropped the ladies off at the restaurant and then went to find a parking spot. I figured that since this is my old neighborhood that I'd be able to find a place to park fairly quickly. I was so wrong. I went up and down Brighton Ave a bunch of times, down side streets (even past our old apartment on Chester St) and over into areas that I really didn't want to leave the car. Nothing. No spots to be had. And the rain just would not stop. I had hoped that this would keep the traffic down but no such luck there. Apparently rain doesn't bother young people in the slightest.

After 43 minutes, yes, FORTY-THREE MINUTES of circling and back-tracking I finally found a spot a few blocks up from where the club is. Now normally finding a spot that was relatively close to the club would be a good thing (and it was after the show), but I still had to walk past the club and to the restaurant in the rain. And since I am whatever the opposite of a boy scout is, I did not have an umbrella. "Never prepared". That's my fucking motto. By the time I got to the restaurant I was soaked. Drenched even. And no, I did not have a rain coat either. The good thing about this though is that since I was so delayed in getting there, the food and my beer were already waiting for me when I finally did arrive. That was pretty sweet.

And goddamn that Shabu Toki place was great. I didn't know much about what the whole Shabu Shabu experience was like but I'd go back there again. I don't know that I'd go back on a Saturday night (in the rain, did I mention the rain?) again but I'd certainly try a Tuesday or a Wednesday perhaps. I would recommend it to anyone too by the by. Plus, as a bonus, it's pretty cheap too.

After dinner we trudged back through the rain to the club. When The Wiff and I lived over in Allston this bar was kinda off limits to us cuz it always seems stuffed to the rafters with douchebags and frat boys (is that redundant? I think it might be). I can remember fights spilling out of there and onto the sidewalk and thinking to myself "yea, I'm never going in there". So walking into the club I didn't really know what to expect. The bar area itself is a little wonky but the space is ok. Unfortunately it's another one of these places that decided to have bands play as sort of an after thought. The stage is stuffed into a back corner of the bar where, as Kevin C. said, it "looks like that's where they used to store the empty beer cases". He isn't kidding. There really isn't much of an area for the crowd to stand and watch the show without completely blocking access to the bathrooms. So throughout the show there was a near constant stream (hee!) of people making their way to and from the bathrooms.

Normally I hate crowds (cuz of the whole hating people thing) but for some reason when I'm at a show I can be in a crowd getting bumped into every 2 seconds and I'm ok with it. I'm not saying I ENJOY it, but it doesn't make me freak out or get angry. I think it's cuz there's a sense of purpose or community perhaps when people are gathered in a tiny narrow room to watch a band play. Everyone knows it isn't ideal and so we just get along. I found a space where I could have my back up against a wall (to minimize the bumpings) and as it turns out the sound at the club was pretty decent. The band really sounded great and as always put on a fun, energetic show. I always run into a bunch of people that I know at their shows too so that's cool.

After the show ended I went and got the car and picked everyone up out front 'cuz I'm a fucking gentleman goddammit. When we finally got home I was all wound up so I knew I couldn't go to sleep right away. I watched some god awful television until 4am and then went upstairs and passed out. So there you have it: a night out with me with very little complaining. Ok, so I did moan about the parking issue and the fact that I was soaked oh and that people kept bumping into me and ... fine. Hmph. I still had a good time overall so there. Go by "Your Secrets are Mine Now". Do it.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

I Left The House! And On A Tuesday Too!!

Last night The Wiff and I went out to see Ad Frank and the Fast and Easy Women play at Harper's Ferry in Allston. I hadn't seen them play in probably a year or so and it was a really good show. As it turns out, it was also a bit of a reunion of sorts. First off, Nancy and Mike were there! They're great people and I was trying to think of the last time I had seen them and it has to be about 2 years maybe? God, I need to get out more often. I suck. Mike occasionally plays keyboards for the band (actually I asked him and he said that the last time was probably 5 years ago...technically still occasionally right?). I also got to say Hey to Linda Bean P.! One of my all time favorite peoples.

Continuing with the reunion theme, I saw this guy Phil that I knew from a million years ago. Then later on I saw Joey Diaz whom I worked with at the copy place in Harvard Sq. (I worked at a few copy places in my day. I actually was working at a copy place during the time when that frickin' "Copy Guy" skit was playing on Saturday Night Live. People would come in and say "Heh..Makin' copies!" as if they were not only the first person that day to say it to me but the first person ever to say it. They weren't. Luckily for me, I was already dead inside. Side note: who knew that the "Copy Guy" had a name? It was Richard. Wow..I really do suck).

Then on came American Music Club and they sounded fantastic. I wasn't that familiar with their stuff but they're really good. Great even. We hung out for their set and realized that it was now 12:15 am on a school night. Fudge. The Wiff turned to me and said "I have to get up in 5 hours." By the time we said our goodbyes and got out of Allston and back to the castle we call home it was 1 am. So right now I'm functioning on about 4 hours sleep (thereabouts). Not horrible when your younger and dumber but when your old and (still) dumb, 4 hours really doesn't cut it. I feel jet lagged without having to take my shoes off and walk on industrial carpeting.