Matinee Idyll
The Lucky Fucks/State Of Disgrace/Clit 45/The Briefs//Continental//11/13/05
See, toldja it was a biggie.
I'm surprised this show wasn't sold out in advance, but then again, not like I'm complaining. A band called The Matches is playing there and that show is already sold out. I'm sure I'm supposed to know who they are, but I don't. This is why I buy adv tix. It's worth the handling in a case like this and with a show like this, I tell myself that I'm doing the right thing and therefore things will go well for me. Wishful thinking, I know, but sometimes you gotta cling to whatever you can.
I stayed in on Saturday in order to rest up for this. It was warm again, in the 60s and sunny, and again I'd be spending the day in a dark club. Not only is the lighting the best only by the stage, the interior of The Continental is painted black. At least I didn't have to bring a jacket with me and try to keep track of it and didn't have to worry about layering up and getting overheated. Well, I didn't need my motorcycle jacket but I probably should've had a sweatshirt on me. I got down there at 2, bought a disposable just to have backup, and sat in front of the club until doors. A kid wearing jeans with Skinhead, (even though he is not a skinhead) Oi!, and Fuck written on them and brand-new Docs knocks on the door and asks if he can go in. "Are you in one of the bands?" "We're the Fucks." Oy! The Soundguy is in an Undertones T. A mother comes up and asks me where the box office is and where the doors are. Later, a woman with a huge fuschia mohawk buys her ticket on the corner and then goes down St. Marks and I wonder why this show is going on at The Continental and not CBGB. At the intersection of St. Marks & 3rd is a truck with Christmas directions, the type that gets strung up between lampposts. So when the show is over, it'll be Christmas. Before we went in, there was a guy inspecting bags. That's never happened at Continental before. Inside, people--more accurately, girls--line the walls and I walk right up, wondering how smart that is.
I was thinking that The Lucky Fucks got their name because they landed on the bill with Clit 45 & The Briefs and that'll look good on their bio. The singer is a kid with green hair and the back of his shirt says 80-85. It's a Bad Religion shirt, not the range of years when he was born because that would make him out of his teens. They're from Staten Island and ask us to start a pit. And not a wussy circle pit. Their friends all start running around, limbs flailing, falling on top of each other constantly. One of their friends comes in and they start pushing each other around until they fall in greeting. See, you're not supposed to be falling down and taking out the equipment stacked up alongside the walls. That's not how to do a pit. That's not what punk is about. I get it, you're all dressed appropriately in studded motorcycle jackets, the correct band Ts, two belts, and Doc Martens. (The boy sporting his first facial hair and the Minor Threat shirt was precious.) Believe me, I get it. But that's not how to do a pit. The point isn't falling in a huddle all the time. The Lucky Fucks' sound was weird, perhaps they were too eager to get onstage and play that they didn't check to see if everything was plugged in properly. There was a weird, twangy echo. The only words I could make out were "fuck" and "emo fucks." They covered a Virus song and Agnostic Front. See, I think the problem with all these high school punk bands--or high school kids in any bands these days--is that their parents encourage them because they don't want to be like their parents who destroyed their dreams of being in a band and they swore they wouldn't do that to their kids. There was a parent there; when the drummer dropped a stick he ran up, picked it up, and tossed it back. It's like parents of kids in bands these days don't give them any feedback in fear of squelching the kids' dreams. Though they did a song "for all the skinheads"--Life's Too Short--which was good, but they are not skinheads. There were a few baldies there, but I wouldn't call them skinheads. "Can I get an Oi?" OY! At their last song one of their friends runs up to the stage and the singer kicks him. Upon learning that he missed, he keeps at it, prompting a "Don't kick people from the stage" from The Soundguy. That's so punkrock, getting yelled at by The Soundguy.
I could tell from State Of Disgrace's logo design that they were HXC. I don't know how they landed on the bill because it wasn't an HXC show--perhaps because I made a suggestion to a band that they contact the booker because at first the listing said "+ 2 locals TBA"--and they never did. I get it. I need to stop being such a busybody. (Though I give Matt credit for at least considering my suggestion of contacting the booker for the Naked Aggression show and thanking me for the tip because they want to play more A/A shows--that one said contact the booker to get on the bill--and then forgetting about it.) In fact, that's my New Year's resolution: Stop giving bands advice. But I digress. I don't know why some of these HXC bands have such dire names like State Of Disgrace because they seemed to be very positive people. And what was refreshing was that it wasn't sludgy, dire music and barking vocals.
I first saw the name Clit 45 on someone's patch at last year's Cracktoberfest and the ink was hot pink and I thought/hoped that Clit 45 are young punk chicks. Nope. They're teenage punk boys. Ha ha. Clit 45, sounds like Colt 45 but it's Clit. Already my hackles were up because this could only go 2 ways. Either they're gonna be really good or really terrible. I'm not really up on 21st century punk bands (like Virus and the Unseen--did see Unseen w/DKM last year and I liked the music but not the vocals) but Clit 45 falls under the 21st century (street) punk band umbrella. And the bands which, I may be wrong, seem more cued in to the visual aspects of punk. As I've said before, you can tell a lot about a band by their crowd and the crowd up front for Clit 45 were all young guys, the ones who were clambering all over each other to The Lucky Fucks. I stood on the stairs to the stage, all excited because I was up front for Clit 45, but then again it doesn't matter because I'm probably not going to see these pix for another year and nobody really reads this site anyway. Still, watching them, I thought that this is probably as close as you'll get to seeing Sid Vicious. I mean, there are differences, but that's what I thought. Clit singer Dave was in a shirt with a swastika on it that said Destroy and of course he's so pretty oh so pretty vacant, but I just felt that everything was a little too calculated. Nothing about them live really grabbed me and held me for very long. I stood on the step and looked down at all the guys clambering on top of each other and the stage, I told myself that just because a show is all-ages, they mean younger people--not older. I couldn't help but laugh a little. I was like, OK, I get it, now what? What else ya got?
When the front of the stage opened up I planted myself there.Not surprisingly, there was a bit of a crowd change when The Briefs took the stage. I had a feeling that was going to happen. I almost feel like saying that I don't know how Clit 45 got on the bill but I know it's because both are on BYO Records and Clit 45 is an up-and-comer who could use the exposure. Stylistically, they're different. I was all excited and had been for days, ready to get swept up into a pogo as I have in the past. But my dam self was no match for the flood of bodies and back to the step I returned as The Briefs blitzed through anthems Destroy The USA ("Blow us up!"), Silver Bullet ("That old time rock 'n' roll is something we can do without! Kill Bob Seeger right now!"), and the faster-paced newies Move Too Slow and Zombie ("She wants to be a zombie! Oi!Oi!Oi!"). Dead In The Suburbs was climactic. It was just an amazing moment--the crowd and the band becoming one and a good time had by all, and all that. I felt like I was witnessing an historical event, was a part of something bigger than myself. Like a definitive show for a band and would be great footage for a DVD, stuff like that--either you were there or you weren't. And I was there, right up front and witnessing it all. And even though I wasn't there the 1st time around, I'm pretty sure it was 1977 all over again. They only encored with Poor & Weird though they almost didn't even do any encore. "It's Sunday," Dan said. "Jesus doesn't want us to do another one." "But we do!" I yelled.
What I'd really feared was Continenthell--what happened during The Adicts show. Or getting caught in the crush like when I saw the River City Rebels there the first time around. And The Adicts. When I got in and they said No reentries, I must admit I felt a bit of a panic. On the way out I saw Ron and Tony, and they said they were worried about me up front when the crowd started, but felt much better when they saw that I'd moved. Yeah, I felt better, too.
So The Germs are playing Continental next month. 2 shows. Y'know, you really gotta hand it to CBGB for keeping it real by giving the scrappy, no-name upstarts a chance to get onstage. And the day coming up when the Gallery will be closed for a private event but open for merch, as the ad promises. Special guests are promised for The Germs show. Yeah, they're gonna get Darby to rise from the dead? Not going to The Germs. $25, not counting S/H. More money than "The Dead Kennedys" @ Irving Plaza, which is $18.50 and the venue has a physical box office, so there's no need to go thru Ticketblaster. And that one will be Continenthell. Besides, reuniting your punk band 25 years later is so cliché. Yama yama yama yama yama yama, boredom boredom boring boredom. (As Poly Styrene once yelped.)
See, toldja it was a biggie. I'm surprised this show wasn't sold out in advance, but then again, not like I'm complaining. A band called The Matches is playing there and that show is already sold out. I'm sure I'm supposed to know who they are, but I don't. This is why I buy adv tix. It's worth the handling in a case like this and with a show like this, I tell myself that I'm doing the right thing and therefore things will go well for me. Wishful thinking, I know, but sometimes you gotta cling to whatever you can.
I stayed in on Saturday in order to rest up for this. It was warm again, in the 60s and sunny, and again I'd be spending the day in a dark club. Not only is the lighting the best only by the stage, the interior of The Continental is painted black. At least I didn't have to bring a jacket with me and try to keep track of it and didn't have to worry about layering up and getting overheated. Well, I didn't need my motorcycle jacket but I probably should've had a sweatshirt on me. I got down there at 2, bought a disposable just to have backup, and sat in front of the club until doors. A kid wearing jeans with Skinhead, (even though he is not a skinhead) Oi!, and Fuck written on them and brand-new Docs knocks on the door and asks if he can go in. "Are you in one of the bands?" "We're the Fucks." Oy! The Soundguy is in an Undertones T. A mother comes up and asks me where the box office is and where the doors are. Later, a woman with a huge fuschia mohawk buys her ticket on the corner and then goes down St. Marks and I wonder why this show is going on at The Continental and not CBGB. At the intersection of St. Marks & 3rd is a truck with Christmas directions, the type that gets strung up between lampposts. So when the show is over, it'll be Christmas. Before we went in, there was a guy inspecting bags. That's never happened at Continental before. Inside, people--more accurately, girls--line the walls and I walk right up, wondering how smart that is.I was thinking that The Lucky Fucks got their name because they landed on the bill with Clit 45 & The Briefs and that'll look good on their bio. The singer is a kid with green hair and the back of his shirt says 80-85. It's a Bad Religion shirt, not the range of years when he was born because that would make him out of his teens. They're from Staten Island and ask us to start a pit. And not a wussy circle pit. Their friends all start running around, limbs flailing, falling on top of each other constantly. One of their friends comes in and they start pushing each other around until they fall in greeting. See, you're not supposed to be falling down and taking out the equipment stacked up alongside the walls. That's not how to do a pit. That's not what punk is about. I get it, you're all dressed appropriately in studded motorcycle jackets, the correct band Ts, two belts, and Doc Martens. (The boy sporting his first facial hair and the Minor Threat shirt was precious.) Believe me, I get it. But that's not how to do a pit. The point isn't falling in a huddle all the time. The Lucky Fucks' sound was weird, perhaps they were too eager to get onstage and play that they didn't check to see if everything was plugged in properly. There was a weird, twangy echo. The only words I could make out were "fuck" and "emo fucks." They covered a Virus song and Agnostic Front. See, I think the problem with all these high school punk bands--or high school kids in any bands these days--is that their parents encourage them because they don't want to be like their parents who destroyed their dreams of being in a band and they swore they wouldn't do that to their kids. There was a parent there; when the drummer dropped a stick he ran up, picked it up, and tossed it back. It's like parents of kids in bands these days don't give them any feedback in fear of squelching the kids' dreams. Though they did a song "for all the skinheads"--Life's Too Short--which was good, but they are not skinheads. There were a few baldies there, but I wouldn't call them skinheads. "Can I get an Oi?" OY! At their last song one of their friends runs up to the stage and the singer kicks him. Upon learning that he missed, he keeps at it, prompting a "Don't kick people from the stage" from The Soundguy. That's so punkrock, getting yelled at by The Soundguy.
I could tell from State Of Disgrace's logo design that they were HXC. I don't know how they landed on the bill because it wasn't an HXC show--perhaps because I made a suggestion to a band that they contact the booker because at first the listing said "+ 2 locals TBA"--and they never did. I get it. I need to stop being such a busybody. (Though I give Matt credit for at least considering my suggestion of contacting the booker for the Naked Aggression show and thanking me for the tip because they want to play more A/A shows--that one said contact the booker to get on the bill--and then forgetting about it.) In fact, that's my New Year's resolution: Stop giving bands advice. But I digress. I don't know why some of these HXC bands have such dire names like State Of Disgrace because they seemed to be very positive people. And what was refreshing was that it wasn't sludgy, dire music and barking vocals.
I first saw the name Clit 45 on someone's patch at last year's Cracktoberfest and the ink was hot pink and I thought/hoped that Clit 45 are young punk chicks. Nope. They're teenage punk boys. Ha ha. Clit 45, sounds like Colt 45 but it's Clit. Already my hackles were up because this could only go 2 ways. Either they're gonna be really good or really terrible. I'm not really up on 21st century punk bands (like Virus and the Unseen--did see Unseen w/DKM last year and I liked the music but not the vocals) but Clit 45 falls under the 21st century (street) punk band umbrella. And the bands which, I may be wrong, seem more cued in to the visual aspects of punk. As I've said before, you can tell a lot about a band by their crowd and the crowd up front for Clit 45 were all young guys, the ones who were clambering all over each other to The Lucky Fucks. I stood on the stairs to the stage, all excited because I was up front for Clit 45, but then again it doesn't matter because I'm probably not going to see these pix for another year and nobody really reads this site anyway. Still, watching them, I thought that this is probably as close as you'll get to seeing Sid Vicious. I mean, there are differences, but that's what I thought. Clit singer Dave was in a shirt with a swastika on it that said Destroy and of course he's so pretty oh so pretty vacant, but I just felt that everything was a little too calculated. Nothing about them live really grabbed me and held me for very long. I stood on the step and looked down at all the guys clambering on top of each other and the stage, I told myself that just because a show is all-ages, they mean younger people--not older. I couldn't help but laugh a little. I was like, OK, I get it, now what? What else ya got?
When the front of the stage opened up I planted myself there.Not surprisingly, there was a bit of a crowd change when The Briefs took the stage. I had a feeling that was going to happen. I almost feel like saying that I don't know how Clit 45 got on the bill but I know it's because both are on BYO Records and Clit 45 is an up-and-comer who could use the exposure. Stylistically, they're different. I was all excited and had been for days, ready to get swept up into a pogo as I have in the past. But my dam self was no match for the flood of bodies and back to the step I returned as The Briefs blitzed through anthems Destroy The USA ("Blow us up!"), Silver Bullet ("That old time rock 'n' roll is something we can do without! Kill Bob Seeger right now!"), and the faster-paced newies Move Too Slow and Zombie ("She wants to be a zombie! Oi!Oi!Oi!"). Dead In The Suburbs was climactic. It was just an amazing moment--the crowd and the band becoming one and a good time had by all, and all that. I felt like I was witnessing an historical event, was a part of something bigger than myself. Like a definitive show for a band and would be great footage for a DVD, stuff like that--either you were there or you weren't. And I was there, right up front and witnessing it all. And even though I wasn't there the 1st time around, I'm pretty sure it was 1977 all over again. They only encored with Poor & Weird though they almost didn't even do any encore. "It's Sunday," Dan said. "Jesus doesn't want us to do another one." "But we do!" I yelled.What I'd really feared was Continenthell--what happened during The Adicts show. Or getting caught in the crush like when I saw the River City Rebels there the first time around. And The Adicts. When I got in and they said No reentries, I must admit I felt a bit of a panic. On the way out I saw Ron and Tony, and they said they were worried about me up front when the crowd started, but felt much better when they saw that I'd moved. Yeah, I felt better, too. So The Germs are playing Continental next month. 2 shows. Y'know, you really gotta hand it to CBGB for keeping it real by giving the scrappy, no-name upstarts a chance to get onstage. And the day coming up when the Gallery will be closed for a private event but open for merch, as the ad promises. Special guests are promised for The Germs show. Yeah, they're gonna get Darby to rise from the dead? Not going to The Germs. $25, not counting S/H. More money than "The Dead Kennedys" @ Irving Plaza, which is $18.50 and the venue has a physical box office, so there's no need to go thru Ticketblaster. And that one will be Continenthell. Besides, reuniting your punk band 25 years later is so cliché. Yama yama yama yama yama yama, boredom boredom boring boredom. (As Poly Styrene once yelped.)
posted by heather @ 3:21 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home