London's Calling But I Let The Machine Pick Up

Nine Black Alps/Nightmare Of You/Hard-Fi//Bowery Ballroom//1/17/06

I don't know what made me buy this ticket, whether I'd read something about Hard-Fi someplace (though I can't remember where) or was thinking that by the time the show rolled around, there would be some buzz/press about the band, whose next album is out stateside in March, and it'll sell out. Which it did. It wasn't that cold out, so it wasn't bad standing around outside The Bowery Ballroom until 7. They have a T-shirt that I really want to get, but it's $17 and haven't I given that place enough of my money over the last 8 years? The last-minute-buyers line continued to grow as the ticketholders line remained relatively short. Some on the DOS line clutched TONYs. Maybe I should read Time Out and Spin and then I'd be more in the know about bands and pop music. One woman asked in an accent if there'd be more spots available. She was directed to the other line, where some people were starting to rock out to the soundcheck. Y'know, if you're such a big fan of the band, how come you didn't get tix ahead of time? Then again, why did I get there so early? I had a cramp in my neck and seriously considered selling my ticket and leaving. The sign on the door posted set times and said photo ID must be available at all times. Are they kidding? But it's me. If I can't take pix I'm not going back there. I probably won't be able to afford to much more often. But I can't lose another venue. Too many of 'em close down, anyway. I tried to read as best I could as people got on line discussing the next big show, Editors @ the Merc, which is also sold out. That's funny; I saw the tix onsale on TW for a while and almost went because, well, I am an editor. So I should've gotten in for free. I mean, I'm an editor. It's not like I can afford to go. A little after 7 the guard checked IDs and gave out bracelets. But he didn't say we could go in. So I asked. No response. So I asked again, louder. "That's what kills me," he says, walking further down the line. "She comes here all the time. That kills me." What a fucking ass, talking about me like I'm an idiot and like I'm not even there. Yeah, I come here all the time and you've never braceleted the whole line ahead of time. That's Webster Hall. Because you know someone behind me is gonna yell, "Would you move, already?" If I did, I'd get yelled at. So the second guard, who'd taken the head guard's place at the stool by the door, speaks to someone on his cell and informs us that they're open. It's like when you're at the bank or the post office and the sign says wait until called and someone steps away from the window and I wait for the little light to go on before I step up and someone yells at me to go already. Downstairs the guy who rips tickets smiled and said, "You're always first." "I try to be." He wished me a happy new year but I'm still burning up about what happened upstairs. I feel like a dolt. I'm never going there again.

I tried to read as I waited for the doors to open inside. People sat at the bar, chatting with the next bouncer, so I got up and sat in front of the door. Still couldn't concentrate and now my seat on the couch is gone. A lot of the people buying tix at the door get in. Soon a big crowd forms behind me. You'd think that'd make me feel powerful, but I just want it to be over. I can't turn my head because of the pain in my neck; I have to turn at the waist. The girl to my left is in an Izod beanie and an Art Brut shirt that says something like Popular culture doesn't apply to me or whatever their oxymoronic slogan is. More buzz about the Editors show. There's a sign up that 2 members of Nightmare Of You is DJing at Fat Baby later and another sign on the FYE table that it you reserve your copy of the new Hard-Fi album, you can meet the band later. Right. There's a geeky FYE staff member in a shirt that says FYE autograph tent staff and he looks up at me thru the window in the door. I smile and he smiles back, then starts laughing. What, do you think you're so much better than me because you're a FYE staff member? It's a little after 8 and someone in the crowd says, "What are you doing here? The band's onstage!" Everyone freaks out. "They're just soundchecking," someone answers. "It's been going on for a while," I worry. "Maybe they have to learn a new song." "They wouldn't let us stand down here thru their set." Would they? It's pretty lound for a soundcheck. "What time is the 1st band supposed to go on?" "8:15." A little while later they open the doors.

Nine Black Alps had one strike against them from the start, or perhaps 3, so they were pretty much out before they even started. The bass player was in a Cribs shirt and trucker hat and the lead singer/guitarer was kinda Cobainy, right down to the hair, except he swapped the green cardigan for a green, zippered hoodie over his striped shirt. Except they played watery grunge rock with absolutely no feeling. Nightmare Of You come from that exotic locale of "right around the corner," kinda poppy/indie, and they invited all of us to the afterparty @ Fat Baby. "And from there we're going to The Darkroom, and then we're going to get breakfast...."

In between sets the chatter behind me was about the angst over having to miss the Editors' show ("...the best post-punk imitation since Interpol...similarities can be shocking at times..." sez the Onion), how much they miss The Futureheads and Razorlight, SXSW, and how they knew last year that Cut Copy was going to be huge. Someone sitting on the floor was reading New York, the headline asking Is This It For The Strokes? (God, one can only hope--and I mean that in a negative way, not I hope this is their big album.) The guy next to me was reading Spin. What the hell was I doing there? I mean, besides seeing shows so you don't have to.

By 10:30, when Hard-Fi went on, my neck was killing me and so was my back. It was packed to the rafters and the floor shook. They put on a good show, exactly what you'd expect from The Next Biggest Things who were playing at the Bowery Ballroom. They've been compared to The Streets, if that means anyting to ya. I just kept thinking, Spunky lads played tomorrow's music yesterday to Londoners and Brooklyners. I liked their show more than their music. I was like, Well, that's a good show, what with the dark stage, rotating search lights, good lighting, energetic singer, great sound system, music world in the palm of their hands, played all their hits, etc, but not necessarily a great show or a memorable one. There were no "what's going to happen next?" moments, nothing that you'd be telling others about for months after, other than "I saw Hard-Fi at The Bowery Ballroom in January." How is this band and Editors any different than the British Invasion in 1994/95? Just the band names have changed. Well, I guess the difference is that the kids, who were missing Editors and the Futureheads, missed it the first time around so it's all new to them. On the way out, they were discussing coming back for The Subways and which bandmembers are old enough to drink and which are their age.

Because I went down there straight from work I missed the newsflash that it would be raining torrentially by the time the show's over. I stopped to get a soda so I could take more aspirins. Of course I just missed the train. Tix for Clap Your Hands Say Yeah @ The Bowery are going onsale at 5 today. Not going. For $13 I would've considered it, but not $17.