Stop The Sidewalks! Scott MX Turner Wants A Shoutout!
RebelMart @ Freddy's 4/14/06
(* Note: 1) If you found this page by accident because you were looking for the Arctic Donkeys' Alex Turner, you should stop reading this now and go read BrooklynVegan. Management regrets the fact that Arctic Donkeys are huge in the first place. B) Yes, I know that Scott and Diane are lefties, but I was gettin bored of left justifying the pix and, as the saying goes, lefties are all right. Q) I was looking for a pic that was correct, guitarwise, but Scott and Diane were wearing different clothes for the gig than they did in this pic, the show was a year and 4 days later, and I wasn't standing midfloor, to the right. Now that we've gotten that out of the way....)
They were sitting on either side of the 2-seaters on the G train that nite, backs to the windows and feet on the seat next to them, and sharing ear buds from an iPod. They had to be around 16. They each wore flannel shirts over their nondescript Ts and as teenagers go these days, they were dressed fairly conservatively. The one who was holding the Pod wore glasses and had on a studded bracelet. His friend had on black Converse sneakers. They were taking their small acts of rebellion very seriously, concentrating on the music. In an urgent voice, the friend said, "When this is done, play the Ramones next."
****
At first read I thought I wasn't going to be able to go to this show, not knowing how late we'd get done on Saturday and needing to make it to Freddy's from Flushing and not knowing when I'd have to leave, being at the beginning of the 7 line. And that time I left Flushing early to make it to Laila's by 9:30 on my dad's birthday didn't go over very well. (I should've just skipped it, bided my time, and gone straight to the Bowery Ballroom 'cause I had !!! tix. Wait, no, I shouldn't've gotten the !!! in the 1st place, and not just to save myself a heaping of {self-inflicted} guilt. But in the grand scheme of things it all worked out.) But it worked out this time as well, with the RebelMart show putting the good in Good Friday. I was going to request songs, but I figured I didn't stand a chance this time around and have done enough damage already. (For the record, it was '76 when Scott was in HS, dunno how old the Hanson Brothers were in '76.)
I took Thursday off. I went to Bowne Park w/my nephew, down all these streets I walked countless times as a kid, past the building I grew up in, the grocery store I used to go to. I wanted to get a pic of the next generation in the kiddie swings in PS 20's playground, even though my swings are gone, due to the school expanding and taking over the front yard. Also gone is the sandbox that never had any sand, but did have plenty of crack vials that we used to sort according to cap color because we thought we were being helpful. We made "Devil's Playground" in the Daily News's survey of worst city schoolyards. (Go us!) In the rear playground, in addition to the handball court, were stairs to a slide but the slide was missing. (Yes, I used to climb up all the time and be too afraid to get back down.) It's much nicer now, and I couldn't help but think: Why couldn't it be like this when I was a kid? On Bowne Street, past all the countless buildings that I wanted to live in, I wondered what my life would've been like had I lived there instead. What would my life be like had we never moved from Queens? I used to wonder this a lot, since a lot has happened since, and a lot for the worse, a lot out of our control. 15 years. From time to time I used to wonder what music I'd be listening to now, had we never left. Gangsta rap? Top 40? R&B? Reggaeton? That Thursday, though, someone, somehow, told me that it didn't matter. Let it go. That if I hadn't left, I wouldn't have what I have now. I'm not talking about the bad parts, my day-to-day, but the good--the music. Everything I have now, everything that's right in my life, is due to these past experiences. These experiences made me seek out the music I did.
What does all this have to do with RebelMart? Nada much, sorry. But I've always felt that I have 2 families--the one I'm related to and the one I chose.
***
I never found out the pacific reason we couldn't go down Pacific St., but when I got to the intersection, it was blocked off and police cars were parked haphazardly, cops loitering in front of them. They told me to cut thru the Modell's parking lot, except I needed to go in the other direction. So it was back down and around to Dean. It felt all weird because that's not how I go. And in keeping with my streak of getting hurt at shows, getting hurt at shows in Brooklyn, getting hurt at shows where Scott plays, getting hurt at shows that Scott plays in Brooklyn, etc etc, when I was talking to Diane before the show, she dropped some change and we both bent down to pick it up, collided, and I got an eyefull of Diane's butt--literally. I guess this means we're friends now.
See, I wasn't even going to write this up since I've reviewed him so many times before, but since Scott announced the site (thanx) in hopes of a writeup, I will. (Hi.) Leave it to a Scorpio to out-Leo a Leo. Then again, when he mentioned the site the only people who were still there know RebelMart, the man and his music, way better than I do so I don't have to, (and I have other stuff to write about and no easy computer access, and I have to read this a bazillion times over to make sure it's worthy) but I will. (:P) And then when he was giving out the address I was thinking that it was too long, that maybe the Smiths were onto something. Or it should've been catchier, like Queens Carnivore, since I devour music. I almost brought my camera, but I have enough pix already and not enough money to get film developed. Too bad, when I get the pix developed some time next year we could've all gotten a good laff at Scott's short-lived fuzzy face phase.
It was standing room only in the Backroom, and I had to stand on the rung of my stool for a bit. But thankfully people moved because that would not be a wise thing to continue to do. Diane said she had a bad feeling about it--don't know if she meant the show or me standing on the rung of a stool. Maybe both. My eye was bothering me since I do wear contacts, but it's fine now. (I would add "unlike my toe," but I won't.) Scott did do a good job of clearing the place out, but they were the peeps talking thru the set so he did us all a favor. I wanted to move up, but I thought the gang at the middle table was going to come back.
I guess I could dissect Scott's every lyric and factor in the phase of the moon (exactly how Christgau writes a review--add in some obscuro reference to lyrics involving the moon and it's Chuck Eddy), but if you think that sounds boring imagine how I'd feel writing it. I need a wheel of adjectives like in the Sprint commercial. That's how I should write every review from now on, by spinning the wheel of adjectives. It's funny, the wrong kind of asshole for America is the right kind of asshole for Brooklyn. After the set, Scott was outside and Elvis Costello was on the jukebox. Scott thinks he could be big. (See, I'd changed the "Scott thinks he could be big" to "thinks Costello could be big," even though it's glaringly obvious that the he in question is Costello and not, in fact, RebelMart. But I changed it back because not only is "he could be big" what Scott really said, {way to remember people's actual convo, 'ey?} I don't think Scott thinks he himself could be big. But I digress.) I dunno. Maybe. Costello's got that retro, keyb-heavy, new-wavey beat that everybody likes. I can see him opening for We Are Scientists. I was reading the L on the way back, not because I really wanted to but because it's free and I wanted something to keep me from getting sucked into conversations with others on the train. Except the schizo across from me on the E was laughing pretty loudly as he picked his toes and then started yelling for people to kill him, and worse things. Their review for The Notorious Bettie Page spelled Bettie with a Y in the article. Sigh. Though I'm sure Scott would've pointed out that they only gave Serenity one L as proof of their incompetence.
On Saturday morning, I'd had enough of no music in my apartment. I bent down to put a CD in and what do you think was in front of my CD player? (Hint: The CD player is on the floor next to my desk.)
The envelope full'a receipts.
If my life weren't this screwed up, I'd be laughing.
But I did smile. What can I say? That is a great version of Right Back Where We Started From.
(* Note: 1) If you found this page by accident because you were looking for the Arctic Donkeys' Alex Turner, you should stop reading this now and go read BrooklynVegan. Management regrets the fact that Arctic Donkeys are huge in the first place. B) Yes, I know that Scott and Diane are lefties, but I was gettin bored of left justifying the pix and, as the saying goes, lefties are all right. Q) I was looking for a pic that was correct, guitarwise, but Scott and Diane were wearing different clothes for the gig than they did in this pic, the show was a year and 4 days later, and I wasn't standing midfloor, to the right. Now that we've gotten that out of the way....)
They were sitting on either side of the 2-seaters on the G train that nite, backs to the windows and feet on the seat next to them, and sharing ear buds from an iPod. They had to be around 16. They each wore flannel shirts over their nondescript Ts and as teenagers go these days, they were dressed fairly conservatively. The one who was holding the Pod wore glasses and had on a studded bracelet. His friend had on black Converse sneakers. They were taking their small acts of rebellion very seriously, concentrating on the music. In an urgent voice, the friend said, "When this is done, play the Ramones next."
****
At first read I thought I wasn't going to be able to go to this show, not knowing how late we'd get done on Saturday and needing to make it to Freddy's from Flushing and not knowing when I'd have to leave, being at the beginning of the 7 line. And that time I left Flushing early to make it to Laila's by 9:30 on my dad's birthday didn't go over very well. (I should've just skipped it, bided my time, and gone straight to the Bowery Ballroom 'cause I had !!! tix. Wait, no, I shouldn't've gotten the !!! in the 1st place, and not just to save myself a heaping of {self-inflicted} guilt. But in the grand scheme of things it all worked out.) But it worked out this time as well, with the RebelMart show putting the good in Good Friday. I was going to request songs, but I figured I didn't stand a chance this time around and have done enough damage already. (For the record, it was '76 when Scott was in HS, dunno how old the Hanson Brothers were in '76.)
I took Thursday off. I went to Bowne Park w/my nephew, down all these streets I walked countless times as a kid, past the building I grew up in, the grocery store I used to go to. I wanted to get a pic of the next generation in the kiddie swings in PS 20's playground, even though my swings are gone, due to the school expanding and taking over the front yard. Also gone is the sandbox that never had any sand, but did have plenty of crack vials that we used to sort according to cap color because we thought we were being helpful. We made "Devil's Playground" in the Daily News's survey of worst city schoolyards. (Go us!) In the rear playground, in addition to the handball court, were stairs to a slide but the slide was missing. (Yes, I used to climb up all the time and be too afraid to get back down.) It's much nicer now, and I couldn't help but think: Why couldn't it be like this when I was a kid? On Bowne Street, past all the countless buildings that I wanted to live in, I wondered what my life would've been like had I lived there instead. What would my life be like had we never moved from Queens? I used to wonder this a lot, since a lot has happened since, and a lot for the worse, a lot out of our control. 15 years. From time to time I used to wonder what music I'd be listening to now, had we never left. Gangsta rap? Top 40? R&B? Reggaeton? That Thursday, though, someone, somehow, told me that it didn't matter. Let it go. That if I hadn't left, I wouldn't have what I have now. I'm not talking about the bad parts, my day-to-day, but the good--the music. Everything I have now, everything that's right in my life, is due to these past experiences. These experiences made me seek out the music I did.
What does all this have to do with RebelMart? Nada much, sorry. But I've always felt that I have 2 families--the one I'm related to and the one I chose.
***
I never found out the pacific reason we couldn't go down Pacific St., but when I got to the intersection, it was blocked off and police cars were parked haphazardly, cops loitering in front of them. They told me to cut thru the Modell's parking lot, except I needed to go in the other direction. So it was back down and around to Dean. It felt all weird because that's not how I go. And in keeping with my streak of getting hurt at shows, getting hurt at shows in Brooklyn, getting hurt at shows where Scott plays, getting hurt at shows that Scott plays in Brooklyn, etc etc, when I was talking to Diane before the show, she dropped some change and we both bent down to pick it up, collided, and I got an eyefull of Diane's butt--literally. I guess this means we're friends now.
See, I wasn't even going to write this up since I've reviewed him so many times before, but since Scott announced the site (thanx) in hopes of a writeup, I will. (Hi.) Leave it to a Scorpio to out-Leo a Leo. Then again, when he mentioned the site the only people who were still there know RebelMart, the man and his music, way better than I do so I don't have to, (and I have other stuff to write about and no easy computer access, and I have to read this a bazillion times over to make sure it's worthy) but I will. (:P) And then when he was giving out the address I was thinking that it was too long, that maybe the Smiths were onto something. Or it should've been catchier, like Queens Carnivore, since I devour music. I almost brought my camera, but I have enough pix already and not enough money to get film developed. Too bad, when I get the pix developed some time next year we could've all gotten a good laff at Scott's short-lived fuzzy face phase.
It was standing room only in the Backroom, and I had to stand on the rung of my stool for a bit. But thankfully people moved because that would not be a wise thing to continue to do. Diane said she had a bad feeling about it--don't know if she meant the show or me standing on the rung of a stool. Maybe both. My eye was bothering me since I do wear contacts, but it's fine now. (I would add "unlike my toe," but I won't.) Scott did do a good job of clearing the place out, but they were the peeps talking thru the set so he did us all a favor. I wanted to move up, but I thought the gang at the middle table was going to come back.
I guess I could dissect Scott's every lyric and factor in the phase of the moon (exactly how Christgau writes a review--add in some obscuro reference to lyrics involving the moon and it's Chuck Eddy), but if you think that sounds boring imagine how I'd feel writing it. I need a wheel of adjectives like in the Sprint commercial. That's how I should write every review from now on, by spinning the wheel of adjectives. It's funny, the wrong kind of asshole for America is the right kind of asshole for Brooklyn. After the set, Scott was outside and Elvis Costello was on the jukebox. Scott thinks he could be big. (See, I'd changed the "Scott thinks he could be big" to "thinks Costello could be big," even though it's glaringly obvious that the he in question is Costello and not, in fact, RebelMart. But I changed it back because not only is "he could be big" what Scott really said, {way to remember people's actual convo, 'ey?} I don't think Scott thinks he himself could be big. But I digress.) I dunno. Maybe. Costello's got that retro, keyb-heavy, new-wavey beat that everybody likes. I can see him opening for We Are Scientists. I was reading the L on the way back, not because I really wanted to but because it's free and I wanted something to keep me from getting sucked into conversations with others on the train. Except the schizo across from me on the E was laughing pretty loudly as he picked his toes and then started yelling for people to kill him, and worse things. Their review for The Notorious Bettie Page spelled Bettie with a Y in the article. Sigh. Though I'm sure Scott would've pointed out that they only gave Serenity one L as proof of their incompetence.
On Saturday morning, I'd had enough of no music in my apartment. I bent down to put a CD in and what do you think was in front of my CD player? (Hint: The CD player is on the floor next to my desk.)
The envelope full'a receipts.
If my life weren't this screwed up, I'd be laughing.
But I did smile. What can I say? That is a great version of Right Back Where We Started From.
posted by heather @ 10:36 AM
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