Reunion Song
Go Apeshit/Bugout Society/Go!//ABC No Rio//7/8/06
You guessed it, another sunny Saturday spent inside a venue. I almost didn’t go, even though I’d planned on it when I saw the show listed and it sounded cool. About their bass player/guitarist, The Gamp: “Complained constantly (still does), tried to get Get A Life back on the air. . . . His greatest all-time complaint was after the only BOS appearance in The Carolinas, we decided to make a stop at the Mason Museum in Fredricksburg VA, Gamp complained that we ruined his perfect evening of 1st run Fox Sunday Sitcoms by showing interest in secret societies. He lost a crappy Charvel guitar in Providence and blew up a crappy Peavey amp in Albany in the early 90s. Best decisions he never made, musically speaking.” M.C. Charlie Boswell “sang/shouted/taunted and danced with audience members, sometimes all four at the same time.” How could I not go to this?
I could clean my apartment. I could write and then stare at what I wrote and reread it and procrastinate about posting it. I could go outside. I could play Freecell on and off. I can sit around and be miserable, as I have for the past few days. No, if I don’t go I’d be worried about myself, as I have been for the past few days. So I went, but I left my camera home. Yeah, I’ve got 400 film and that place is bright enough most times that I don’t think I need 800, but I’m not up to buying even more film, even in the name of being a photographer.
Max was outside when I got there. He told me that he heard about my blog.
Y . . . eah. Well, about that. But I hear music playing and get nervous, so I head in. He’s trying to call his friend, who is playing w/Bugout Society but was asleep at the moment. Go! is rehearsing because they don’t remember their songs. They stop at 3 and I sit around with nothing to read and hope it starts soon.
A woman comes in and starts “Oh my God!”-ing as she hugs people. I wonder if I am her and she was me. Besides the fact that she looks kinda Jewish. I feel nervous and take deep plastery, musty breaths as she sits on the floor with Go!, folding lyric sheets and they talk about the old days and what’s inside their hollow sidewalks. She took her mother to the Lower East Side: “I mean, there used to be piles of feces around. I told her stories about the old days . . . The last old-school hangout in Williamsburg closed down. . . .” Jim Testa, of Jerseybeat: “I had a 2-bedroom apartment around the corner from Maxwell’s when it first opened and that was $88/month. . . .” (Or did he say a 1-bedroom? Whatever it was, the point I’m trying to make is that it was shocking to the point that I blanked on the actual details.) The girl, again: “There are fewer venues these days and 10X as many bands. Remember when we used to do this. . . .”
The singer for Go Apeshit is one of the girls who volunteers at the shows. They’re all screamy hardcore. She says that this is a great opportunity to learn about the building, which No Rio acquired in the free and clear on the Fourth, since there were so many different ages there. The kids should listen to the older people because they know what’s going on and the older people should listen to the kids, because even though they never saw a show in the basement it doesn’t meant that they don’t know what’s going on. Me? I’m neither. Though I thought about volunteering there for a show.
Bugout Society have that vintage 90s NYC punk sound with songs about hanging out with bums at Gray’s Papaya—“And these were real bums, not the ones with trust funds!” And then the White Castle starts flying, turning the show into a punk rock food fight. I got beaned in the shoulder with a frozen burger and shortly thereafter, I could’ve sworn a burger was going to whiz past my ear. That’s what I pictured happening and I could even hear it whizzing by as it grazed my ear, but it instead hit me square in the eye. “I guess we’ll still never be known for our music. We were gonna cover My Sharona, but we didn’t want to be known as the band that did My Sharona.” They apologized later: “Somebody brought frozen burgers, but we swore off that years ago.” The general consensus was that the place smelled better regardless of the White Castle wreckage. “It smells like meat in here! It’s not even vegan to breathe!” “It smells like the inside of a taco.” I heard them telling someone later that they got back together for the George Tabb benefit and landing this show was a coincidence. They probably won’t play again.
The deal with gaining the title to the building is that it’s going to be demolished and then rebuilt. They’re going to expand the performance space, and put in an AC. Hopefully a window as well. Man, a lot of anarchists just smell bad. My nose got stuffy, my palms were sweaty, and I had a headache.
“We are the Go! Experience, the Go! cover band!” Getting back together was an accident, Mike BS tells us. Somebody from Germany contacted him because he wanted to use the name. “And then I thought, Could we? Should we? So the moral of the story is that if you use an old band’s name, they might just get back together.” He’s also in touch with people trying to find out-of-print Go! albums on eBay, happy that people are trading for his albums, or understanding that people are trying to unload them. “You’re getting rid of your Go! albums? That’s okay; people change.” So it was fitting that a band that played ABC No Rio back in the day got back together and played this show now that they acquired the building. They promised to be back next year. And of course I didn’t have my camera on me. It felt weird not having it. It’s almost like I didn’t know what to do with myself.
I wanted to go to Sin-e later. That was the plan. I never made it. I haven’t been there since January. Crazy, I know, but I didn’t go. My sinuses from the stuffy show and all, plus my back was bothering me. That’s it.
You guessed it, another sunny Saturday spent inside a venue. I almost didn’t go, even though I’d planned on it when I saw the show listed and it sounded cool. About their bass player/guitarist, The Gamp: “Complained constantly (still does), tried to get Get A Life back on the air. . . . His greatest all-time complaint was after the only BOS appearance in The Carolinas, we decided to make a stop at the Mason Museum in Fredricksburg VA, Gamp complained that we ruined his perfect evening of 1st run Fox Sunday Sitcoms by showing interest in secret societies. He lost a crappy Charvel guitar in Providence and blew up a crappy Peavey amp in Albany in the early 90s. Best decisions he never made, musically speaking.” M.C. Charlie Boswell “sang/shouted/taunted and danced with audience members, sometimes all four at the same time.” How could I not go to this?
I could clean my apartment. I could write and then stare at what I wrote and reread it and procrastinate about posting it. I could go outside. I could play Freecell on and off. I can sit around and be miserable, as I have for the past few days. No, if I don’t go I’d be worried about myself, as I have been for the past few days. So I went, but I left my camera home. Yeah, I’ve got 400 film and that place is bright enough most times that I don’t think I need 800, but I’m not up to buying even more film, even in the name of being a photographer.
Max was outside when I got there. He told me that he heard about my blog.
Y . . . eah. Well, about that. But I hear music playing and get nervous, so I head in. He’s trying to call his friend, who is playing w/Bugout Society but was asleep at the moment. Go! is rehearsing because they don’t remember their songs. They stop at 3 and I sit around with nothing to read and hope it starts soon.
A woman comes in and starts “Oh my God!”-ing as she hugs people. I wonder if I am her and she was me. Besides the fact that she looks kinda Jewish. I feel nervous and take deep plastery, musty breaths as she sits on the floor with Go!, folding lyric sheets and they talk about the old days and what’s inside their hollow sidewalks. She took her mother to the Lower East Side: “I mean, there used to be piles of feces around. I told her stories about the old days . . . The last old-school hangout in Williamsburg closed down. . . .” Jim Testa, of Jerseybeat: “I had a 2-bedroom apartment around the corner from Maxwell’s when it first opened and that was $88/month. . . .” (Or did he say a 1-bedroom? Whatever it was, the point I’m trying to make is that it was shocking to the point that I blanked on the actual details.) The girl, again: “There are fewer venues these days and 10X as many bands. Remember when we used to do this. . . .”
The singer for Go Apeshit is one of the girls who volunteers at the shows. They’re all screamy hardcore. She says that this is a great opportunity to learn about the building, which No Rio acquired in the free and clear on the Fourth, since there were so many different ages there. The kids should listen to the older people because they know what’s going on and the older people should listen to the kids, because even though they never saw a show in the basement it doesn’t meant that they don’t know what’s going on. Me? I’m neither. Though I thought about volunteering there for a show.
Bugout Society have that vintage 90s NYC punk sound with songs about hanging out with bums at Gray’s Papaya—“And these were real bums, not the ones with trust funds!” And then the White Castle starts flying, turning the show into a punk rock food fight. I got beaned in the shoulder with a frozen burger and shortly thereafter, I could’ve sworn a burger was going to whiz past my ear. That’s what I pictured happening and I could even hear it whizzing by as it grazed my ear, but it instead hit me square in the eye. “I guess we’ll still never be known for our music. We were gonna cover My Sharona, but we didn’t want to be known as the band that did My Sharona.” They apologized later: “Somebody brought frozen burgers, but we swore off that years ago.” The general consensus was that the place smelled better regardless of the White Castle wreckage. “It smells like meat in here! It’s not even vegan to breathe!” “It smells like the inside of a taco.” I heard them telling someone later that they got back together for the George Tabb benefit and landing this show was a coincidence. They probably won’t play again.
The deal with gaining the title to the building is that it’s going to be demolished and then rebuilt. They’re going to expand the performance space, and put in an AC. Hopefully a window as well. Man, a lot of anarchists just smell bad. My nose got stuffy, my palms were sweaty, and I had a headache.
“We are the Go! Experience, the Go! cover band!” Getting back together was an accident, Mike BS tells us. Somebody from Germany contacted him because he wanted to use the name. “And then I thought, Could we? Should we? So the moral of the story is that if you use an old band’s name, they might just get back together.” He’s also in touch with people trying to find out-of-print Go! albums on eBay, happy that people are trading for his albums, or understanding that people are trying to unload them. “You’re getting rid of your Go! albums? That’s okay; people change.” So it was fitting that a band that played ABC No Rio back in the day got back together and played this show now that they acquired the building. They promised to be back next year. And of course I didn’t have my camera on me. It felt weird not having it. It’s almost like I didn’t know what to do with myself.
I wanted to go to Sin-e later. That was the plan. I never made it. I haven’t been there since January. Crazy, I know, but I didn’t go. My sinuses from the stuffy show and all, plus my back was bothering me. That’s it.
posted by heather @ 12:02 AM
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