We're Goin' Out T'nite!
(Uh, the other nite...I mean last month...Er, last year....)
The Genders/The Choke/The Everyothers/The Sex Slaves/The Trash Bar//12/31/05
Yeah, the Brooklyn Boys finally came up with a great band name....but like 2 weeks before their New Year's Eve gig. And I'd made other plans in the meantime. So I didn't want to see a band called Motormouth--NYE or whenever--can ya really blame me? For some reason this NYE was just..... I guess it's because it fell on a Saturday and I'm always going to shows on a Saturday, ya know? Like, big deal, I'm going to a club to see a bunch of bands. Big surprise, big whoop.
I forgot to look nice. Maybe that's why. I got on the F, away from the person under a blanket, and there was a couple across from me looking spiffy. I wore my boots for some reason, even though the wet weather had subsided. I figured it could start up again and I had my sneakers in my bag. Really smart, huh? A group of men get on and occupy the 3-seater across from the person under the blanket, oblivious to the fact that someone has made the F train his bed. One of them starts going on loudly about his encounter with a "Chinese bitch," earning him dirty looks from the Asians nearby and the man under the blanket stirs, like how dare these guys interrupt his sleep. On the subway. A few stops later a woman gets on and when the train starts up again, she stumbles back, lands on a man's lap, and then goes backward across his lap, fishnet-clad legs in the air. Classic. This cracks everyone up and the man under the blanket mutters "Jesus! Holy Jesus!" "Happy New Year!" the woman slurs as she stumbles off the train. She'll probably be "the fat bitch" in the retelling.
People were hanging out the door at Spike Hill as I began the long trudge down Bedford Ave. It's like St. Pat's all over again only without warm weather waiting in the wings. Why did I wear my boots again? When I got to Trash I was completely winded. Had a gagging, hacking cough. Maybe it's the boots. I feel like it takes more effort to walk with them on. Then I've got to be the most out-of-shape person ever. I sat there gagging and sputtering until doors. What is it about Williamsburg and me? They had Comedy Central on at the bar. There was a commercial for a CD called "Buzz Ballads." Seriously. Bush's Glycerine, Better Than Ezra--their other song. Every song people bought those CDs for 10 years ago. And "Monster Ballads" with Cinderella. I guess this is why they made iPods.
This gig was the last stop on Tel Aviv rock band The Genders' tour. Yup, a rock band from Israel. "Happy fuckin' Hanukkah! Fuck New Year's Eve, it's the 7th nite of Hanukkah!" Their album is called Rockin' in Ramallah, full of rock songs about bombs in Tel Aviv, wanting to grow up to be a stoner, garage rocker Army Girl, and the threatened-to-play-but-they-didn't Mammary Glands--"All the hot mamas they be having a ball/Struttin their stuff just west of the wall." A cover of a song "by a fellow Jew"--Joey Ramone. In their wink-wink nudge-nudge "Fuck You We're The Genders" they promise to "put the man in Maneschevitz" and "the balls in matzoh ball soup," driving home the intentions mentioned in their liner notes: "Pure entertainment to keep your mind off the shit that's going down right under your nose."
I was curious about The Choke because, well, their fliers are all over LES lampposts so I wanted to know what was what. When their petite singer, Cameron, got onstage in her pleated skirt, striped, V-neck top, and boots I thought: Now she wants to be our dog. It's Jonny Napalm's latest band, supposedly garage rock but nothing special. The songs were all an indistinguishable lump though (they say) they're influenced by the Ronettes, Avengers, Voidoids, Pretenders, Shangri-La's, etc. And Cameron needs to figure out what to do with her hands while she sings because she kept holding her hand up, as in Talk to the hand! (I guess that's where I should be directing my opinions--or "Stop! In The Name Of Love" since they claim to be garage/soul and have Motown influences) and shaking her hands nonstop like she just hit her funnybone. Probably she was just emoting.
While The Everyothers were setting up I sat down on the couch, head back at times and staring at the disco ball, trying to concentrate on the circles of light reflected off of it because I needed something to do, and J Bomb and Del Cheetah sat down on either side of me for some reason. They introduced themselves and Del told me that J recognized me from their previous shows. (Yeah, probably because I was sitting on their gear because my back was bothering me and they needed to load it onstage and J told me I can't sit there.) How did I find out about the show, they asked? Uh, it was on the Trash website. (Maybe I should've said I'm on Myspace and always leaving them love notes and whatnot, or saw it on their official website.) Who did you come to see? You guys. Aren't you always taking pictures? I held up the camera around my neck and take it off and then J said, "Take a picture of us." Before I could get up so J and Del can scoot closer, Del takes my camera. He tries to find the viewfinder--yeah, it's a bitch; I know--and while he's getting ready to take a picture of me and J, I can't help but wonder if they plan to humiliate me somehow. I mean, why are they talking to me in the 1st place, ya know? And then J offers to take a picture of me and Del. But it's NYE, afterall; they're drunk and it's good PR, and so much for Miller being the champagne of beers because that's the way I felt. So then they get up to leave and J said that they just wanted to say hi and introduce themselves. Weird. Well, they do have another gig coming up.
The Everyothers are total glam rock though claiming to have punk influences and Owen McCarthy total Bowie, down to his black suit, hat, and eyeliner. At least they know how to rock out and perform, right down to the cover of Substitute and Ground Control to Major Tom. Made me think that it was kinda nice, in a way, to have every decade represented on NYE. So then there was the big countdown while the Sex Slaves set up and after, the Slaves continued for another 15 mins. at least. "This is ridiculous!" complains the girl next to me. "They should've had everything ready first!" 06 is already looking a lot like 05. Except everyone there had to smoke in the new year.
The Sex Slaves have promo cards that say Don't miss the infamous Sex Slaves live shows!! and I had to wonder what the hell they were talking about because I've seen their live shows and I don't know what the hell they're talking about. The Slaves go on in a blaze of glory with We're Going Out Tonight, all glam rock and this incredible, big sound that just blows the walls off the club because you'd expect to hear it in a bigger venue. The girl next to me commented that their first gig was a joke. I can see that, because they strike me as what Satanicide would be if they started off seriously--or seriously for Satanicide, especially with anthems like All Night Long ("I just wanna fuck you all nite long) and Thank God For Jack Daniels, Eric 13 passing the bottle around. So what's the big deal about their live shows? That time it was Pink Snow, and let's just leave it at that. I can't believe I've only seen the Slaves at all-ages shows and this is my 1st 21+ show--not like I've been missing Pink, but I could've sworn I saw them at a late show so I didn't know what they meant by infamous live shows. And it's not like I need A/A shows. (Actually it was w/Cheetah Chrome, which was 18+.) Earlier in the set that stupid Lisa Lightning chick shoves in out of nowhere, earning her "what the fuck?" looks from those who've been standing there already. She makes her way up front, then pushes thru the crowd to the side and then starts her, uh, interpretive dance, complete with kicks in the air. Frank Wood was there, but w/o Fillipe de Buckette. With Pink climbing onstage (and Frank Wood cheering) and all the smoking and crowding my throat felt all weird. After their set I had to sit down while they encored. It felt like I was trying to breathe underwater but I had no gills. My neck was straining as I used my inhaler. They encore with Where Eagles Dare and it gets raucous, with Eric jumping into the crowd. I get my second wind and get up to try to take pix but I'm crowded out. Eric says, "Here, hold this," and I take the microphone, thinking he's going to take off or move his guitar and then ask for it back but I end up holding it for Eric thru the whole song the best I could, singing into it at some points, aware a camera has gone off, thinking that now I'm going to have to go to their next show.
After the show I'm on line for the bathroom, more to check that I haven't suffered any brain damage from the asthma attack than I really had to go. A man stumbles past and says something to me. I still have my earplugs in and the DJ has started up in the back, so I ask him to repeat himself. A few times. He wishes me a happy new year and he squeezes my hands as he says this and tells me how bad 05 was and he hopes 06 is better for us. The Slaves had made some comment that you can be yourself on NYE, any other nite you're just a drunk. Well, NYE and St.P. Music was blaring from some club or apartment as I walked back toward Bedford, past the cases of empties. Right before the corner of Grand and Bedford is two guys who are vertical and one horizontal. I hope the guys know the person on the floor and they just haven't come across him, cause I don't want to get involved. The vertical guys mention getting a cab while the horizontal guy says, "I just want to get my dick sucked." Well, good luck with that. Clusters of revelers on Bedford are staking out the next party, the car service office is mobbed, and I get to the L and feel a breeze on my face even upstairs, but get down there just in time for the train doors to close on me. Again, 06 is looking a lot like 05. Shotglass necklaces and beads. A fratboy type in a red sequined top hat. At 65th Street a guy asks me how much longer it is to Bainbridge. Or maybe he said Bay Ridge. Either way, he was headed in the wrong direction and I told him to transfer back at Jackson Heights because it was free, but he got off at 65th instead. Back at my station a couple gets off ahead of me and the girl takes her heels off and walks out of the station barefoot.
The Genders/The Choke/The Everyothers/The Sex Slaves/The Trash Bar//12/31/05
Yeah, the Brooklyn Boys finally came up with a great band name....but like 2 weeks before their New Year's Eve gig. And I'd made other plans in the meantime. So I didn't want to see a band called Motormouth--NYE or whenever--can ya really blame me? For some reason this NYE was just..... I guess it's because it fell on a Saturday and I'm always going to shows on a Saturday, ya know? Like, big deal, I'm going to a club to see a bunch of bands. Big surprise, big whoop.
I forgot to look nice. Maybe that's why. I got on the F, away from the person under a blanket, and there was a couple across from me looking spiffy. I wore my boots for some reason, even though the wet weather had subsided. I figured it could start up again and I had my sneakers in my bag. Really smart, huh? A group of men get on and occupy the 3-seater across from the person under the blanket, oblivious to the fact that someone has made the F train his bed. One of them starts going on loudly about his encounter with a "Chinese bitch," earning him dirty looks from the Asians nearby and the man under the blanket stirs, like how dare these guys interrupt his sleep. On the subway. A few stops later a woman gets on and when the train starts up again, she stumbles back, lands on a man's lap, and then goes backward across his lap, fishnet-clad legs in the air. Classic. This cracks everyone up and the man under the blanket mutters "Jesus! Holy Jesus!" "Happy New Year!" the woman slurs as she stumbles off the train. She'll probably be "the fat bitch" in the retelling.
People were hanging out the door at Spike Hill as I began the long trudge down Bedford Ave. It's like St. Pat's all over again only without warm weather waiting in the wings. Why did I wear my boots again? When I got to Trash I was completely winded. Had a gagging, hacking cough. Maybe it's the boots. I feel like it takes more effort to walk with them on. Then I've got to be the most out-of-shape person ever. I sat there gagging and sputtering until doors. What is it about Williamsburg and me? They had Comedy Central on at the bar. There was a commercial for a CD called "Buzz Ballads." Seriously. Bush's Glycerine, Better Than Ezra--their other song. Every song people bought those CDs for 10 years ago. And "Monster Ballads" with Cinderella. I guess this is why they made iPods.
This gig was the last stop on Tel Aviv rock band The Genders' tour. Yup, a rock band from Israel. "Happy fuckin' Hanukkah! Fuck New Year's Eve, it's the 7th nite of Hanukkah!" Their album is called Rockin' in Ramallah, full of rock songs about bombs in Tel Aviv, wanting to grow up to be a stoner, garage rocker Army Girl, and the threatened-to-play-but-they-didn't Mammary Glands--"All the hot mamas they be having a ball/Struttin their stuff just west of the wall." A cover of a song "by a fellow Jew"--Joey Ramone. In their wink-wink nudge-nudge "Fuck You We're The Genders" they promise to "put the man in Maneschevitz" and "the balls in matzoh ball soup," driving home the intentions mentioned in their liner notes: "Pure entertainment to keep your mind off the shit that's going down right under your nose."
I was curious about The Choke because, well, their fliers are all over LES lampposts so I wanted to know what was what. When their petite singer, Cameron, got onstage in her pleated skirt, striped, V-neck top, and boots I thought: Now she wants to be our dog. It's Jonny Napalm's latest band, supposedly garage rock but nothing special. The songs were all an indistinguishable lump though (they say) they're influenced by the Ronettes, Avengers, Voidoids, Pretenders, Shangri-La's, etc. And Cameron needs to figure out what to do with her hands while she sings because she kept holding her hand up, as in Talk to the hand! (I guess that's where I should be directing my opinions--or "Stop! In The Name Of Love" since they claim to be garage/soul and have Motown influences) and shaking her hands nonstop like she just hit her funnybone. Probably she was just emoting.
While The Everyothers were setting up I sat down on the couch, head back at times and staring at the disco ball, trying to concentrate on the circles of light reflected off of it because I needed something to do, and J Bomb and Del Cheetah sat down on either side of me for some reason. They introduced themselves and Del told me that J recognized me from their previous shows. (Yeah, probably because I was sitting on their gear because my back was bothering me and they needed to load it onstage and J told me I can't sit there.) How did I find out about the show, they asked? Uh, it was on the Trash website. (Maybe I should've said I'm on Myspace and always leaving them love notes and whatnot, or saw it on their official website.) Who did you come to see? You guys. Aren't you always taking pictures? I held up the camera around my neck and take it off and then J said, "Take a picture of us." Before I could get up so J and Del can scoot closer, Del takes my camera. He tries to find the viewfinder--yeah, it's a bitch; I know--and while he's getting ready to take a picture of me and J, I can't help but wonder if they plan to humiliate me somehow. I mean, why are they talking to me in the 1st place, ya know? And then J offers to take a picture of me and Del. But it's NYE, afterall; they're drunk and it's good PR, and so much for Miller being the champagne of beers because that's the way I felt. So then they get up to leave and J said that they just wanted to say hi and introduce themselves. Weird. Well, they do have another gig coming up.
The Everyothers are total glam rock though claiming to have punk influences and Owen McCarthy total Bowie, down to his black suit, hat, and eyeliner. At least they know how to rock out and perform, right down to the cover of Substitute and Ground Control to Major Tom. Made me think that it was kinda nice, in a way, to have every decade represented on NYE. So then there was the big countdown while the Sex Slaves set up and after, the Slaves continued for another 15 mins. at least. "This is ridiculous!" complains the girl next to me. "They should've had everything ready first!" 06 is already looking a lot like 05. Except everyone there had to smoke in the new year.The Sex Slaves have promo cards that say Don't miss the infamous Sex Slaves live shows!! and I had to wonder what the hell they were talking about because I've seen their live shows and I don't know what the hell they're talking about. The Slaves go on in a blaze of glory with We're Going Out Tonight, all glam rock and this incredible, big sound that just blows the walls off the club because you'd expect to hear it in a bigger venue. The girl next to me commented that their first gig was a joke. I can see that, because they strike me as what Satanicide would be if they started off seriously--or seriously for Satanicide, especially with anthems like All Night Long ("I just wanna fuck you all nite long) and Thank God For Jack Daniels, Eric 13 passing the bottle around. So what's the big deal about their live shows? That time it was Pink Snow, and let's just leave it at that. I can't believe I've only seen the Slaves at all-ages shows and this is my 1st 21+ show--not like I've been missing Pink, but I could've sworn I saw them at a late show so I didn't know what they meant by infamous live shows. And it's not like I need A/A shows. (Actually it was w/Cheetah Chrome, which was 18+.) Earlier in the set that stupid Lisa Lightning chick shoves in out of nowhere, earning her "what the fuck?" looks from those who've been standing there already. She makes her way up front, then pushes thru the crowd to the side and then starts her, uh, interpretive dance, complete with kicks in the air. Frank Wood was there, but w/o Fillipe de Buckette. With Pink climbing onstage (and Frank Wood cheering) and all the smoking and crowding my throat felt all weird. After their set I had to sit down while they encored. It felt like I was trying to breathe underwater but I had no gills. My neck was straining as I used my inhaler. They encore with Where Eagles Dare and it gets raucous, with Eric jumping into the crowd. I get my second wind and get up to try to take pix but I'm crowded out. Eric says, "Here, hold this," and I take the microphone, thinking he's going to take off or move his guitar and then ask for it back but I end up holding it for Eric thru the whole song the best I could, singing into it at some points, aware a camera has gone off, thinking that now I'm going to have to go to their next show.
After the show I'm on line for the bathroom, more to check that I haven't suffered any brain damage from the asthma attack than I really had to go. A man stumbles past and says something to me. I still have my earplugs in and the DJ has started up in the back, so I ask him to repeat himself. A few times. He wishes me a happy new year and he squeezes my hands as he says this and tells me how bad 05 was and he hopes 06 is better for us. The Slaves had made some comment that you can be yourself on NYE, any other nite you're just a drunk. Well, NYE and St.P. Music was blaring from some club or apartment as I walked back toward Bedford, past the cases of empties. Right before the corner of Grand and Bedford is two guys who are vertical and one horizontal. I hope the guys know the person on the floor and they just haven't come across him, cause I don't want to get involved. The vertical guys mention getting a cab while the horizontal guy says, "I just want to get my dick sucked." Well, good luck with that. Clusters of revelers on Bedford are staking out the next party, the car service office is mobbed, and I get to the L and feel a breeze on my face even upstairs, but get down there just in time for the train doors to close on me. Again, 06 is looking a lot like 05. Shotglass necklaces and beads. A fratboy type in a red sequined top hat. At 65th Street a guy asks me how much longer it is to Bainbridge. Or maybe he said Bay Ridge. Either way, he was headed in the wrong direction and I told him to transfer back at Jackson Heights because it was free, but he got off at 65th instead. Back at my station a couple gets off ahead of me and the girl takes her heels off and walks out of the station barefoot.
posted by heather @ 2:05 PM
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