Spontaneous Combustion!
Plastic Beef Variety Show//Freddy's//2/10/06
I'm so glad that I got that whole seeing Mission of Burma (playing the Bowery on 2/10) thing out of the way last year, clearing the way for seeing The Mooney Suzuki @ JellyNYC on Feb. 10. I'm so glad that I passed on seeing The Mooney Suzuki @ that Shindig! party in January (4 bands, starting at 9pm, on a Wednesday in January, pix by Lastnightsparty, $15 donation required...maybe I'm getting old) clearing the way for seeing The Mooney Suzuki @ JellyNYC @ Southie.
I'm not sure if all the Jelly shows have advance tix, but as soon as tix were available on Ticketweb toward the end of Jan I bought it (on the 28th, at 2:45 in the morning--eh, sounds like me, but what the fuck was I doing up at that time?) And then in my beginning-of-the-next-month-venue-check, of course there were a few things that gave me the all-to-familiar Oooh! No, wait. Already have a show reaction. Case in point the latest Paz/Turner/Benjoya incarnation @ Freddy's. I didn't even let myself think about it because I'd get upset.
And then I found out that The Mooney Suzuki had to regretfully cancel due to a serious band illness. Great. I'm probably the only schmuck who bought the advance ticket and spent the $3 surcharge when everyone was going to pay at the door. So now I have to get the refund (so technically, I have another $13 show coming my way. I seriously considered The Zutons, but I don't have $12 to see hip Brits copy 60s rock, and Towers of London, but I don't have $13 to see hip Brits doing the metal/punk thing so if anyone's curious they can read Brooklyn Vegan because I'm sure he'll cover one of those. Funnily enough they're both on the same night but I'm not supporting the NME) and reshuffle my sched. Now, wait. Something else sounds familiar about February 10. I mean aside from it being my unbirthday. Oh, right. Spontaneous Combustion @ Freddy's. Oh my God. I mean, it sucks that someone from The Mooney is seriously ill (Sammy and Graham with bronchitis), but at least I can go to Freddy's. And besides, if I want to hear TMS I guess I can just watch TV because yet another song of theirs just popped up in a commercial. If I want to see TMS, I can always watch School Of Rock. Well, I could if I had the money to buy a copy. And I'm starting to come down with something as well, probably thanx to working up a drenching dancing at a show--more of a sweat than the band did and of course the only person in the crowd to (dance as well as rock out)--and then heading into the cold night after. And then wondering why I'm called the band's mascot.
I checked my email before I left work to see that I made Roger's C-list because I got the email so last-minute. Probably enough people who got the email that he sent earlier wrote back to say shit, man, I'd love to go but I already got other plans, and fearing there'd be no one there, he dropped ole H a line. I totally made Scott's D-list because I didn't even hear from him about it. I guess we're all even, then, seeing as how I have an S-list. And since I already knew about the gig and because the Freddy's site said 8:30 for Spontaneous Combustion, the improvisational act executed by The Red Barbers, I didn't even notice the 9PM in Roger's email. And got there by 8:30. So not only did I miss the Arrested Development season finale, I missed finding out which Simpsons episode is Matt Groening's #1 fave of the last 16 years. Then somebody started setting up trays of food and I panicked because I thought there was some other party going on--and I didn't eat dinner. So I was thinking I'd have to leave but then Roy and his friend, Erin, showed up so I had somebody to talk to. Roy was also in Warriors, in Xris's gang, the Electric Vikings. Oh, yeah. That's what I did on 1/28, went to the screening @ Times Up! and then stayed up all nite writing. (Wonder how many people going are going to bring a bike to Spunkbubble Warriors.) Said Liza's email promised some sort of Spunk connection, and that he misses The Spunk Lads something awful. Yeah, same here. And he asked me when The Zambonis are going to play there again. Same thing I ask of The Zambonis. Scott assumed that since I was there, there weren't any other bands playing. Yeah, well.
That picture is kinda accurate for The Red Barbers, except that Scott was on drums, Benjoya on guitar, and Roger has since gotten a haircut. And they were all wearing red shirts and they were in the Backroom, not behind the bar. So after a bit of Pat O'Shea's comedy act, they explained the rules of Spontaneous Combustion. You'd think that rules for Spontaneous Combustion is an oxymoron, but the rules were that we have to give them a song title and genre and they'd compose a song for the title on the spot and Roger would sing it in that genre. So even after they explained the rules there was still a request for Black 47's Free Joe Now (Not from me, though it was a good request). I guess there was a reason for making rules to Spontaneous Combustion after all. Roy led the way with a punk song about a rattlesnake and while they all jumped to it and Roger came up with good lyrics and Scott and Dave had a good sound, it was kinda sad in a way because it's like the only way these guys can be in a good band together is if there's some sort of goof/joke angle to it, otherwise they cancel each other out but need the joke angle in order for them to focus on something, and then they're able to go on from there and create and work together and play music together otherwise it would just be a bunch of friends jamming. There was a request for a love song about hairy armpits (uh, nice) and I'm sitting there thinking that I of all people should be able to come up with something. And something good. And then I had it. But after the rap song about a poodle (Put it in the doggy bag, doing it doggy style) and a call for a rockabilly song went first and then I said Anticipating The Blizzard in emo. (Which I thought was a free pass since that sounded like an emo-y song title. And I couldn't think of anything else for a subject.) It's not that I wanted to hear emo, it's that I wanted to hear them attempt to play emo. I guess the next time I go to Spontaneous Combustion I won't be allowed to speak at all because this isn't Stump The Band. Either I'll end up with duct tape over my mouth or someone will sit there with their hand over my mouth. Musically they sometimes sounded emo but not really and Roger didn't sing emo at all. And I have some genres for the next time. Still & all, it was better than real emo bands, but they shouldn't contact Excess Db any time soon. Also good was Cartoon Fuhrer (Which is a good band name, provided you know how to spell fuhrer. Then again, I'm Jewish so it's understandable if I got it wrong. "Disney uber alles!") in metal.
Coincedentally, by the time the food was unleashed a band called Kitchen was playing. Roy pronounced it Best Night Ever--good food, good music, good people--while Scott pronounced Plastic Beef's set Best Plastic Beef Set Ever--perhaps because they did You've Got To Hide Your Love Away and Scott got to yell all the Hey!s. Well, somebody had to. For some reason, Roger asked me how they did and for some reason, I told him. You think we'd learn, but no. Since the 2/3 were going all screwy late at nite, Scott dropped me @ Jay St. I was thinking he'd drop me @ Atlantic but he said the last time he gave me a ride he dropped me @ Jay, when I hurt my ankle. I said the last time he gave me a ride was when I hurt my face. In other words, whenever he gives me a ride I'm not in the capacity to be remembering what subway stop he leaves me at. (For the record, when I hurt my ankle I walked, when I hurt my face it was Bedford, when I hurt my toe he brought me to Jay St.)
Since the A came 1st I took it to W4 for the E. Across from me was a guy I thought was about to jockey into whip-it-out mode: nobody to either side of me, him with his knees apart, newspaper across his lap where his fly is, then he starts shifting around in hopes of the noise catching my attention. So I went out of my way to ignore him and when the guy to my right moved over and asked me if the train was going uptown, I answered him. Is it going to Jamaica Center? Why yes, it is. But local, late at night and all and then the guy across from me got off at his stop. Then the guy going to Jamaica Center starts talking to me, telling me how tired he is. Was running errands back and forth on the subway all day and he's tired and just wants to go home and go to sleep. And it's his 50th birthday. So I wish him a happy birthday and he tells me that he plays for the Harlem Globetrotters old timers' league and all the other pro-basketball teams he used to play for but now he's tired. And he just had a birthday on Oct. 28. Of course pointing out the discrepancy is on the tip of my tongue but I'm not about to go there so I listen to him rattle on about his career in basketball, how he has insurance, just turned 47--"Do I look 47?" he asks me. He brings up the insurance again, has dental insurance, even, and I wonder why a person with dental insurance would have teeth missing, but that's just me. He tells me to watch the Harlem Globetrotters game next week on cable and I tell him I will, even though I don't have cable. I'll be able to see my little friend on TV. Says his name is Bradley and when they taped the game, his braids were going straight back. He'll be on TV playing basketball and I sat next to him on the subway and all he said was that he's tired and just wants to go home. By the time we get to Jackson Heights I notice that weird old guy from the buiding who always walks around in his pajamas and slippers is sitting across from me, wearing his slippers on the train. Bradley tells me that the Boston Celtics gave him the jacket he's wearing. How it was good growing up in an Irish/Italian neighborhood because those people were shitted on already so by the time he got there, he had no problems. In Cambria Heights, those people were already fucked up and it was a blessing because they were able to understand him. But he plays basketball, he says, for the fans. For the energy we give him. Sure, some people play for the money, but it's the fans that do it for him.
When he mentioned shooting out I had to wonder if he was really referring to something else, even as he held his hands like he was going to shoot a basket. But playing basketball was the only part of his story that remained consistant throughout. So I guess we'll never know. I don't have cable.
I'm so glad that I got that whole seeing Mission of Burma (playing the Bowery on 2/10) thing out of the way last year, clearing the way for seeing The Mooney Suzuki @ JellyNYC on Feb. 10. I'm so glad that I passed on seeing The Mooney Suzuki @ that Shindig! party in January (4 bands, starting at 9pm, on a Wednesday in January, pix by Lastnightsparty, $15 donation required...maybe I'm getting old) clearing the way for seeing The Mooney Suzuki @ JellyNYC @ Southie.I'm not sure if all the Jelly shows have advance tix, but as soon as tix were available on Ticketweb toward the end of Jan I bought it (on the 28th, at 2:45 in the morning--eh, sounds like me, but what the fuck was I doing up at that time?) And then in my beginning-of-the-next-month-venue-check, of course there were a few things that gave me the all-to-familiar Oooh! No, wait. Already have a show reaction. Case in point the latest Paz/Turner/Benjoya incarnation @ Freddy's. I didn't even let myself think about it because I'd get upset.
And then I found out that The Mooney Suzuki had to regretfully cancel due to a serious band illness. Great. I'm probably the only schmuck who bought the advance ticket and spent the $3 surcharge when everyone was going to pay at the door. So now I have to get the refund (so technically, I have another $13 show coming my way. I seriously considered The Zutons, but I don't have $12 to see hip Brits copy 60s rock, and Towers of London, but I don't have $13 to see hip Brits doing the metal/punk thing so if anyone's curious they can read Brooklyn Vegan because I'm sure he'll cover one of those. Funnily enough they're both on the same night but I'm not supporting the NME) and reshuffle my sched. Now, wait. Something else sounds familiar about February 10. I mean aside from it being my unbirthday. Oh, right. Spontaneous Combustion @ Freddy's. Oh my God. I mean, it sucks that someone from The Mooney is seriously ill (Sammy and Graham with bronchitis), but at least I can go to Freddy's. And besides, if I want to hear TMS I guess I can just watch TV because yet another song of theirs just popped up in a commercial. If I want to see TMS, I can always watch School Of Rock. Well, I could if I had the money to buy a copy. And I'm starting to come down with something as well, probably thanx to working up a drenching dancing at a show--more of a sweat than the band did and of course the only person in the crowd to (dance as well as rock out)--and then heading into the cold night after. And then wondering why I'm called the band's mascot.
I checked my email before I left work to see that I made Roger's C-list because I got the email so last-minute. Probably enough people who got the email that he sent earlier wrote back to say shit, man, I'd love to go but I already got other plans, and fearing there'd be no one there, he dropped ole H a line. I totally made Scott's D-list because I didn't even hear from him about it. I guess we're all even, then, seeing as how I have an S-list. And since I already knew about the gig and because the Freddy's site said 8:30 for Spontaneous Combustion, the improvisational act executed by The Red Barbers, I didn't even notice the 9PM in Roger's email. And got there by 8:30. So not only did I miss the Arrested Development season finale, I missed finding out which Simpsons episode is Matt Groening's #1 fave of the last 16 years. Then somebody started setting up trays of food and I panicked because I thought there was some other party going on--and I didn't eat dinner. So I was thinking I'd have to leave but then Roy and his friend, Erin, showed up so I had somebody to talk to. Roy was also in Warriors, in Xris's gang, the Electric Vikings. Oh, yeah. That's what I did on 1/28, went to the screening @ Times Up! and then stayed up all nite writing. (Wonder how many people going are going to bring a bike to Spunkbubble Warriors.) Said Liza's email promised some sort of Spunk connection, and that he misses The Spunk Lads something awful. Yeah, same here. And he asked me when The Zambonis are going to play there again. Same thing I ask of The Zambonis. Scott assumed that since I was there, there weren't any other bands playing. Yeah, well.
That picture is kinda accurate for The Red Barbers, except that Scott was on drums, Benjoya on guitar, and Roger has since gotten a haircut. And they were all wearing red shirts and they were in the Backroom, not behind the bar. So after a bit of Pat O'Shea's comedy act, they explained the rules of Spontaneous Combustion. You'd think that rules for Spontaneous Combustion is an oxymoron, but the rules were that we have to give them a song title and genre and they'd compose a song for the title on the spot and Roger would sing it in that genre. So even after they explained the rules there was still a request for Black 47's Free Joe Now (Not from me, though it was a good request). I guess there was a reason for making rules to Spontaneous Combustion after all. Roy led the way with a punk song about a rattlesnake and while they all jumped to it and Roger came up with good lyrics and Scott and Dave had a good sound, it was kinda sad in a way because it's like the only way these guys can be in a good band together is if there's some sort of goof/joke angle to it, otherwise they cancel each other out but need the joke angle in order for them to focus on something, and then they're able to go on from there and create and work together and play music together otherwise it would just be a bunch of friends jamming. There was a request for a love song about hairy armpits (uh, nice) and I'm sitting there thinking that I of all people should be able to come up with something. And something good. And then I had it. But after the rap song about a poodle (Put it in the doggy bag, doing it doggy style) and a call for a rockabilly song went first and then I said Anticipating The Blizzard in emo. (Which I thought was a free pass since that sounded like an emo-y song title. And I couldn't think of anything else for a subject.) It's not that I wanted to hear emo, it's that I wanted to hear them attempt to play emo. I guess the next time I go to Spontaneous Combustion I won't be allowed to speak at all because this isn't Stump The Band. Either I'll end up with duct tape over my mouth or someone will sit there with their hand over my mouth. Musically they sometimes sounded emo but not really and Roger didn't sing emo at all. And I have some genres for the next time. Still & all, it was better than real emo bands, but they shouldn't contact Excess Db any time soon. Also good was Cartoon Fuhrer (Which is a good band name, provided you know how to spell fuhrer. Then again, I'm Jewish so it's understandable if I got it wrong. "Disney uber alles!") in metal.
Coincedentally, by the time the food was unleashed a band called Kitchen was playing. Roy pronounced it Best Night Ever--good food, good music, good people--while Scott pronounced Plastic Beef's set Best Plastic Beef Set Ever--perhaps because they did You've Got To Hide Your Love Away and Scott got to yell all the Hey!s. Well, somebody had to. For some reason, Roger asked me how they did and for some reason, I told him. You think we'd learn, but no. Since the 2/3 were going all screwy late at nite, Scott dropped me @ Jay St. I was thinking he'd drop me @ Atlantic but he said the last time he gave me a ride he dropped me @ Jay, when I hurt my ankle. I said the last time he gave me a ride was when I hurt my face. In other words, whenever he gives me a ride I'm not in the capacity to be remembering what subway stop he leaves me at. (For the record, when I hurt my ankle I walked, when I hurt my face it was Bedford, when I hurt my toe he brought me to Jay St.)
Since the A came 1st I took it to W4 for the E. Across from me was a guy I thought was about to jockey into whip-it-out mode: nobody to either side of me, him with his knees apart, newspaper across his lap where his fly is, then he starts shifting around in hopes of the noise catching my attention. So I went out of my way to ignore him and when the guy to my right moved over and asked me if the train was going uptown, I answered him. Is it going to Jamaica Center? Why yes, it is. But local, late at night and all and then the guy across from me got off at his stop. Then the guy going to Jamaica Center starts talking to me, telling me how tired he is. Was running errands back and forth on the subway all day and he's tired and just wants to go home and go to sleep. And it's his 50th birthday. So I wish him a happy birthday and he tells me that he plays for the Harlem Globetrotters old timers' league and all the other pro-basketball teams he used to play for but now he's tired. And he just had a birthday on Oct. 28. Of course pointing out the discrepancy is on the tip of my tongue but I'm not about to go there so I listen to him rattle on about his career in basketball, how he has insurance, just turned 47--"Do I look 47?" he asks me. He brings up the insurance again, has dental insurance, even, and I wonder why a person with dental insurance would have teeth missing, but that's just me. He tells me to watch the Harlem Globetrotters game next week on cable and I tell him I will, even though I don't have cable. I'll be able to see my little friend on TV. Says his name is Bradley and when they taped the game, his braids were going straight back. He'll be on TV playing basketball and I sat next to him on the subway and all he said was that he's tired and just wants to go home. By the time we get to Jackson Heights I notice that weird old guy from the buiding who always walks around in his pajamas and slippers is sitting across from me, wearing his slippers on the train. Bradley tells me that the Boston Celtics gave him the jacket he's wearing. How it was good growing up in an Irish/Italian neighborhood because those people were shitted on already so by the time he got there, he had no problems. In Cambria Heights, those people were already fucked up and it was a blessing because they were able to understand him. But he plays basketball, he says, for the fans. For the energy we give him. Sure, some people play for the money, but it's the fans that do it for him.
When he mentioned shooting out I had to wonder if he was really referring to something else, even as he held his hands like he was going to shoot a basket. But playing basketball was the only part of his story that remained consistant throughout. So I guess we'll never know. I don't have cable.
posted by heather @ 9:17 PM
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