Positively Ludlow Street
Mistakes/Cologne/33Hz/Trick and the Heartstrings//Pianos//7/14/05
There were many reasons not to go to this show—-namely I’m broke, I quit writing, I’m not going to get a website so why go to a show and take pix, I have a lot of back writing to do, there’s an obvious vortex of suck on this bill—-don’task me how I know these things I just do. Trust me—-it starts at 8 and I have to eat and run, my allergies were bothering me and I was sneezing like crazy.
But back when I was still writing I’d planned to go. Besides, I still wasn’t sure what I was doing on my birthday and 33Hz was supposed to play Joe’s Pub. So I wanted to know ahead of time in order to plan accordingly if I should see them on my bday. Except I don’t want to go to Joe’s Pub alone on my birthday. And 33Hz and Trick have played JellyNYC shows so obviously they’re buzzworthy.
Sneezing or not, there were 3 good reasons for going. Trick and the Heartstrings have a residency at Pianos and 7/14 had the most bands I’m interested in. Aside from the 2 birds, 1 stone with 33Hz I liked Mistakes when I saw them last year with . . . God, I can’t remember I’ve seen so many bands and have had so many late nites since then that it all blurs together.
So I went to Rite Aid to look for my Sudafed, which is now sold at the pharmacy area. Why, is it addictive? I pick up abox of Alavert and let loose a big, wet sneeze on it. So I guess I have to buy it. Unsure, put it back and checked out all the boxes to see which one covered my symptoms—-no flu, no aches, no headaches, no pressure, no fever, no congestion—-sneezing, watery eyes, runny nose and it seems that allergy stuff nowadays covers all my symptoms or all but one and then some and I don’t want to get knocked out. Non-drowsy formula*. Hmm. *May cause drowsiness? I pick up my sneezed-on Alavert again but see the opening looks bopped up. I pick up the box behind that one.
I make it down to 2nd Ave by 8:15. A grate is down in front of the Luna and the space next to it has been demolished. As I cross over to the even side of the street it looks like there’s a line hanging out the door to Pianos but it’s just loiterers probably for CakeShop. I wonder for a second if the band I saw and liked was indeed the Mistakes or the Fakes since it was a late nite, long time ago, both names are similar, and it was a crazy night. And I’ve been seeing the Fakes listed around recently. But as I head up to the door to pay, I pass the singer for Mistakes and know I chose the right night of the Trick residency.
Of course the show didn’t start at 8 and I made it in just in time. Mistakes were great—-spazz keyboards, vocals on and off-mic, trumpet, jumping offstage, spastic dancing that’s interesting to watch. Whereas anybody can tattoo barbed wire around their bicep and think they’re being all different, the singer actually has some wire wrapped around his arm. Dripping blood painted across the back of his black shirt and what I thought were the letters RNR on closer inspection said DNR. Which I hope stands for Do Not Resuscitate. All these keyboard/dance bands that think they’re punk because of the dancing and keyboards really aren’t. They’re just New Wave retreads but Mistakes are punk rock. The name comes from the school of thought that any mistake in music really isn’t a mistake but something that could and does work. This is the punk rock version of Group Sounds and the more I think about it, the more I don’t like GS’s slick, practiced, polished I’m really not slick and polished therefore we're punk rockers routine. The Pianos site had band blurbs up for that night and of course the Clash were mentioned for Mistakes. Uhm, a little.
I guess Cologne were on the bill to cleanse the palate. Although that’s not really the right phrase since they sucked so much. I could tell. Cologne. Who names their band Cologne? At least I got to sit down and save film, but still, that’s a lot of time out of my life that I can’t get back. And there’s 2 more bands so the show will end 2 bands later. They were the only band without a link or blurbs on the Pianos site. And Scott said they were considering General Strike as a band name. See, what you have to do is take a band name that’s a given as great and hold the new name up for comparison. I.e., the Twats. Cologne . . . the Twats. General Strike . . . the Twats. Who would you rather see? Of course Scott would say General Strike just to be difficult. Cologne’s crowd was comprised of what I would think is NYU freshmen but it’s only July so the NYU freshmen aren’t here yet. I guess just Myspace Cadets.
The thing that worried me about 33Hz before they even took the stage is that they look barely old enough to drink. The drummer is in midriff and hip socket-baring jeans and T-shirt. The keyboard player is in a blazer and Miami Vice-esque sunglasses. He takes his place behind a stack of three keyboards and the bass player has keyboards, also. It’s weird. It’s soooo exaggerated and eighties that I can’t help but laugh. Prince came to mind first, but as the set wore on I kept getting this nagging feeling in my mind that I’ve heard this before on the radio in the 80s but I can’t name the band. It’s like it’s on the tip of my tongue but since so much time has gone by and the band hasn’t had a hit since then, the name escapes me. The keyboard player’s mic has mondo distorto Pseudo Echo effects and the band claps their hands over their heads and look like they’re about to burst out into jumping jacks as I realize where I’ve heard this keyboard-mad sound before.
Burburan’s Town House. Flushing, Queens, circa 1987 and 1989—-my Bat Mitzvah and then two years later at my sister’s. We got a discount because we went back to the same catering hall. I look around at the crowd at Pianos, expecting to see a Jessica McClintock for Gunne Sax party dress in the crowd. Of course it’s a party,the band is clapping their hands over their heads and there’s keyboards you can’t spend the whole afternoon in the bathroom we spent all this money to throw you a party everyone’s asking for you now get out of there smile and be gracious.
Wait a minute. Didn’t I quit this?
Yeah, well, don’t call it a comeback.
No party dresses or shoulder pads to be seen, but a girl with frizzy hair and tremendous glasses, the graduated-tint lenses reaching from her eyebrows to her cheekbones in the type of frames my grandmother wore. Of course they’re the best for keeping the sun out, look at how big the frames are. A blonde is in a dress with the neckline plunging to the waistline and a woman in a dress with pleating in the front that could pass for a 70s party dress. I scan the crowd again. I can’t get a reading on Granny Glasses because I can’t see her facial expressions. Probably the point.
The blonde is none other than Jessie Diamond. She shrugs her shoulders and dances from the waist. Then she kicks her gold flip flops off and clutches the hem ofher dress. She’s jumping around and kicking it like she’s jumping over puddles. The few other girls dancing are pretty much standing in place and moving their upper bodies—-the way those who get drunk early on at catered affairs do, moving half their bodies so they don’t draw attention to themselves and their drunkenness because relatives are watching, even though they’re the only ones on the dancefloor so of course they're watching.
I’ve got to hand it to 33Hz, though. Nobody else sounds like this now. Nobody. That’s refreshing in a way and yet they stick out like a sore thumb in this sea of rockers who use keyboards to prove they’re not rockers. They’re just 80s synth and not embarrassed about it at all. No apologies. Even their logo is retro 80s and there’s a big boom box on their website homepage. (And I never thought “retro” would refer to the 80s. I thought the word was reserved for style elements of the 50s, 60s, and 70s.) Though the tower of keyboards and synths obscure the lyrics, I’m sure the lyrics are beside the point here. We are what we are what we were.
A guy to my right, whispering and talking to some girl, looks really familiar. She laughs. I wonder if they’re laughing about the band. After they finish, the guy gives me a flier. Jessie Diamond’s gig and music video shoot. The guy is Jessie’s keyboard player. Music video shoot? Are you kidding me? What music video? A home movie? There’s a drawing of Jessie that’s dead-on, down to the cat eyes and dainty, dismissive way she holds the cord of the mic between her index and middle fingers like it’s a telephone cord. What are supposed to be stage lights look like rays of light which seem to be radiating from behind her head like a corona behind the Virgin Mary or something and there’s starbursts in her hair. Ridiculous. Music video, my ass.
Jessie’s keyboard player jockies into position in front of the stage. I stand to his right and right before Trick and theHeartstrings starts, Jessie Diamond squeezes in to my left, in the middle of me and her keyboard player. Grrr.
The phrase “rubbing elbows” is usually used in a positive way. Rubbing elbows—- contact with a person that’s unintended and because it’s unintended, there’s a hint of an illicit thrill to that contact.
As in: The party was packed and you’ll never believe who was there! (Insert boldface name here.)!
Oh my God! I can’t believe it! You were rubbing elbows with________!
See how that works? Well, that’s how it works in an ideal world. In my world I have that talentless twit/twat Jessie Diamond in my personal space, our elbows not rubbing but giving off opposing magnetic forces so that actual, metaphorical, physical contact is impossible and uncomfortable. I try to ignore her but she’s just there. How can you ignore something giving off an opposing charge? This is back of a crowded elevator, squished on a subway uncomfortable. And she just charges up front out of nowhere like she has every right to be there.
The review on the Pianos site for Trick and the Heartstrings promised “a spectacle that might only be described as an After-School Special meets Cirque du Soliel; Kurt Cobain meets ‘Purple Rain.’”
Who the hell writes this shit?
That, plus the fact that they’re “Costumed and choreographed like a neighborhood gang from a city that never existed. . . .” I anticipated this “spectacle” to be about a band whose thing is that they’re a band. Probably I’m wrong about this. Hey, it wouldn’t be the first time. The Cirque du Soliel reference would lead one to think there were actual acrobatics instead of just choreographed poses, struts, and turns. But it was the costumed and choreographed description that led me to think that they’re a band telling the story of a band, and for me, there was this element of being a bit removed, if you know what I mean. The costumes weren’treally costumes per se but the trio all wore similar attire, like you’d see in Williamsburg (they’re from Brooklyn, somewhere), or in “a city that never existed”—-yet they were so Lower East Side. Maybe it’s because I’m so used to seeing bands that have some sort of extra story/performance/act angle to them. I don’t know, but this is just how it came across. They were good, though, and that’s what’s important here. All in all, except for Cologne, this was a good night of rock.
I head down for the F and see signs posted that there’s no uptown service at that station. Wonderful. But as I get closer, I see that it’s actually for the weekend. I get in at around 2. I got up the next morning and turned off my alarm. I woke up again at 8:40.
Holy shit! I never do stuff like that.
Goddamn Alavert made me drowsy after all.
There were many reasons not to go to this show—-namely I’m broke, I quit writing, I’m not going to get a website so why go to a show and take pix, I have a lot of back writing to do, there’s an obvious vortex of suck on this bill—-don’task me how I know these things I just do. Trust me—-it starts at 8 and I have to eat and run, my allergies were bothering me and I was sneezing like crazy.
But back when I was still writing I’d planned to go. Besides, I still wasn’t sure what I was doing on my birthday and 33Hz was supposed to play Joe’s Pub. So I wanted to know ahead of time in order to plan accordingly if I should see them on my bday. Except I don’t want to go to Joe’s Pub alone on my birthday. And 33Hz and Trick have played JellyNYC shows so obviously they’re buzzworthy.
Sneezing or not, there were 3 good reasons for going. Trick and the Heartstrings have a residency at Pianos and 7/14 had the most bands I’m interested in. Aside from the 2 birds, 1 stone with 33Hz I liked Mistakes when I saw them last year with . . . God, I can’t remember I’ve seen so many bands and have had so many late nites since then that it all blurs together.
So I went to Rite Aid to look for my Sudafed, which is now sold at the pharmacy area. Why, is it addictive? I pick up abox of Alavert and let loose a big, wet sneeze on it. So I guess I have to buy it. Unsure, put it back and checked out all the boxes to see which one covered my symptoms—-no flu, no aches, no headaches, no pressure, no fever, no congestion—-sneezing, watery eyes, runny nose and it seems that allergy stuff nowadays covers all my symptoms or all but one and then some and I don’t want to get knocked out. Non-drowsy formula*. Hmm. *May cause drowsiness? I pick up my sneezed-on Alavert again but see the opening looks bopped up. I pick up the box behind that one.
I make it down to 2nd Ave by 8:15. A grate is down in front of the Luna and the space next to it has been demolished. As I cross over to the even side of the street it looks like there’s a line hanging out the door to Pianos but it’s just loiterers probably for CakeShop. I wonder for a second if the band I saw and liked was indeed the Mistakes or the Fakes since it was a late nite, long time ago, both names are similar, and it was a crazy night. And I’ve been seeing the Fakes listed around recently. But as I head up to the door to pay, I pass the singer for Mistakes and know I chose the right night of the Trick residency.
Of course the show didn’t start at 8 and I made it in just in time. Mistakes were great—-spazz keyboards, vocals on and off-mic, trumpet, jumping offstage, spastic dancing that’s interesting to watch. Whereas anybody can tattoo barbed wire around their bicep and think they’re being all different, the singer actually has some wire wrapped around his arm. Dripping blood painted across the back of his black shirt and what I thought were the letters RNR on closer inspection said DNR. Which I hope stands for Do Not Resuscitate. All these keyboard/dance bands that think they’re punk because of the dancing and keyboards really aren’t. They’re just New Wave retreads but Mistakes are punk rock. The name comes from the school of thought that any mistake in music really isn’t a mistake but something that could and does work. This is the punk rock version of Group Sounds and the more I think about it, the more I don’t like GS’s slick, practiced, polished I’m really not slick and polished therefore we're punk rockers routine. The Pianos site had band blurbs up for that night and of course the Clash were mentioned for Mistakes. Uhm, a little.
I guess Cologne were on the bill to cleanse the palate. Although that’s not really the right phrase since they sucked so much. I could tell. Cologne. Who names their band Cologne? At least I got to sit down and save film, but still, that’s a lot of time out of my life that I can’t get back. And there’s 2 more bands so the show will end 2 bands later. They were the only band without a link or blurbs on the Pianos site. And Scott said they were considering General Strike as a band name. See, what you have to do is take a band name that’s a given as great and hold the new name up for comparison. I.e., the Twats. Cologne . . . the Twats. General Strike . . . the Twats. Who would you rather see? Of course Scott would say General Strike just to be difficult. Cologne’s crowd was comprised of what I would think is NYU freshmen but it’s only July so the NYU freshmen aren’t here yet. I guess just Myspace Cadets.
The thing that worried me about 33Hz before they even took the stage is that they look barely old enough to drink. The drummer is in midriff and hip socket-baring jeans and T-shirt. The keyboard player is in a blazer and Miami Vice-esque sunglasses. He takes his place behind a stack of three keyboards and the bass player has keyboards, also. It’s weird. It’s soooo exaggerated and eighties that I can’t help but laugh. Prince came to mind first, but as the set wore on I kept getting this nagging feeling in my mind that I’ve heard this before on the radio in the 80s but I can’t name the band. It’s like it’s on the tip of my tongue but since so much time has gone by and the band hasn’t had a hit since then, the name escapes me. The keyboard player’s mic has mondo distorto Pseudo Echo effects and the band claps their hands over their heads and look like they’re about to burst out into jumping jacks as I realize where I’ve heard this keyboard-mad sound before.
Burburan’s Town House. Flushing, Queens, circa 1987 and 1989—-my Bat Mitzvah and then two years later at my sister’s. We got a discount because we went back to the same catering hall. I look around at the crowd at Pianos, expecting to see a Jessica McClintock for Gunne Sax party dress in the crowd. Of course it’s a party,the band is clapping their hands over their heads and there’s keyboards you can’t spend the whole afternoon in the bathroom we spent all this money to throw you a party everyone’s asking for you now get out of there smile and be gracious.
Wait a minute. Didn’t I quit this?
Yeah, well, don’t call it a comeback.
No party dresses or shoulder pads to be seen, but a girl with frizzy hair and tremendous glasses, the graduated-tint lenses reaching from her eyebrows to her cheekbones in the type of frames my grandmother wore. Of course they’re the best for keeping the sun out, look at how big the frames are. A blonde is in a dress with the neckline plunging to the waistline and a woman in a dress with pleating in the front that could pass for a 70s party dress. I scan the crowd again. I can’t get a reading on Granny Glasses because I can’t see her facial expressions. Probably the point.
The blonde is none other than Jessie Diamond. She shrugs her shoulders and dances from the waist. Then she kicks her gold flip flops off and clutches the hem ofher dress. She’s jumping around and kicking it like she’s jumping over puddles. The few other girls dancing are pretty much standing in place and moving their upper bodies—-the way those who get drunk early on at catered affairs do, moving half their bodies so they don’t draw attention to themselves and their drunkenness because relatives are watching, even though they’re the only ones on the dancefloor so of course they're watching.
I’ve got to hand it to 33Hz, though. Nobody else sounds like this now. Nobody. That’s refreshing in a way and yet they stick out like a sore thumb in this sea of rockers who use keyboards to prove they’re not rockers. They’re just 80s synth and not embarrassed about it at all. No apologies. Even their logo is retro 80s and there’s a big boom box on their website homepage. (And I never thought “retro” would refer to the 80s. I thought the word was reserved for style elements of the 50s, 60s, and 70s.) Though the tower of keyboards and synths obscure the lyrics, I’m sure the lyrics are beside the point here. We are what we are what we were.
A guy to my right, whispering and talking to some girl, looks really familiar. She laughs. I wonder if they’re laughing about the band. After they finish, the guy gives me a flier. Jessie Diamond’s gig and music video shoot. The guy is Jessie’s keyboard player. Music video shoot? Are you kidding me? What music video? A home movie? There’s a drawing of Jessie that’s dead-on, down to the cat eyes and dainty, dismissive way she holds the cord of the mic between her index and middle fingers like it’s a telephone cord. What are supposed to be stage lights look like rays of light which seem to be radiating from behind her head like a corona behind the Virgin Mary or something and there’s starbursts in her hair. Ridiculous. Music video, my ass.
Jessie’s keyboard player jockies into position in front of the stage. I stand to his right and right before Trick and theHeartstrings starts, Jessie Diamond squeezes in to my left, in the middle of me and her keyboard player. Grrr.
The phrase “rubbing elbows” is usually used in a positive way. Rubbing elbows—- contact with a person that’s unintended and because it’s unintended, there’s a hint of an illicit thrill to that contact.
As in: The party was packed and you’ll never believe who was there! (Insert boldface name here.)!
Oh my God! I can’t believe it! You were rubbing elbows with________!
See how that works? Well, that’s how it works in an ideal world. In my world I have that talentless twit/twat Jessie Diamond in my personal space, our elbows not rubbing but giving off opposing magnetic forces so that actual, metaphorical, physical contact is impossible and uncomfortable. I try to ignore her but she’s just there. How can you ignore something giving off an opposing charge? This is back of a crowded elevator, squished on a subway uncomfortable. And she just charges up front out of nowhere like she has every right to be there.
The review on the Pianos site for Trick and the Heartstrings promised “a spectacle that might only be described as an After-School Special meets Cirque du Soliel; Kurt Cobain meets ‘Purple Rain.’”
Who the hell writes this shit?
That, plus the fact that they’re “Costumed and choreographed like a neighborhood gang from a city that never existed. . . .” I anticipated this “spectacle” to be about a band whose thing is that they’re a band. Probably I’m wrong about this. Hey, it wouldn’t be the first time. The Cirque du Soliel reference would lead one to think there were actual acrobatics instead of just choreographed poses, struts, and turns. But it was the costumed and choreographed description that led me to think that they’re a band telling the story of a band, and for me, there was this element of being a bit removed, if you know what I mean. The costumes weren’treally costumes per se but the trio all wore similar attire, like you’d see in Williamsburg (they’re from Brooklyn, somewhere), or in “a city that never existed”—-yet they were so Lower East Side. Maybe it’s because I’m so used to seeing bands that have some sort of extra story/performance/act angle to them. I don’t know, but this is just how it came across. They were good, though, and that’s what’s important here. All in all, except for Cologne, this was a good night of rock.
I head down for the F and see signs posted that there’s no uptown service at that station. Wonderful. But as I get closer, I see that it’s actually for the weekend. I get in at around 2. I got up the next morning and turned off my alarm. I woke up again at 8:40.
Holy shit! I never do stuff like that.
Goddamn Alavert made me drowsy after all.
posted by heather @ 4:30 PM
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