For The Record. . . .
Tralala/New York Dolls @ South Street Seaport
Seanchai & The Unity Squad @ Rocky Sullivan’s
August 18, 2006
I never wanted to see Dropkick Murphys at CBGB in the first place. And that’s not just sour grapes because the show sold out before I knew about it—haven’t gotten an email from DKM in years, I guess they upgraded their mailing list at some point and I fell off it and never re-signed—but I had my heart set on Information Society for that day.
Hee hee. I had a feeling they’d resurface at some point. Yeah, at Canal Room, but what the hell. It’ll be silly fun. It took me a few days to buy the ticket, and I paid the surcharge because I didn’t know when I’d have time to find the place and get the ticket at the box office. And shortly after I saw it listed, I saw bands listed around that sounded like they could be interesting and I’d have to remind myself that Information Society was that day.
The show was cancelled. I found out on my birthday. Nice. Ticket automatically refunded? I guess that means I can keep the ticket I already received in the mail, which is nice—as well as the trip to Bridgeport right there—but I really wanted to go. And at least I got lucky with the automatic refund, because it’s a major pain in the arse to get a refund out of TW. The 2 times I tried, I gave up and ate the charges. Once it was when I got a terrible cold and passed on the Briefs at Maxwell’s because there was smoking in Jersey, it was $10, and I’d just seen them locally the day before. Once it was when the Mooney Suzuki cancelled Southpaw, but I reused the ticket when they played there a few months later.
So when I found out the show was cancelled, yeah, I was bummed because I wanted to go, but I tried to cheer myself up: I can save film, save money, save time, save film developing, save myself from writing about the show—but I really wanted to write about it. In fact, I’d started writing it mentally. It was going to begin, “For the record, I never wanted to see Dropkick Murphys at CBGB in the first place. And that’s not just sour grapes because the show sold out before I knew about it. . . .” And, of course, I’d have to bring this up: Canal Room. Though I’ve never been there before and Information Society was to be my first time, what I was going to say about the place would’ve gone something like this: Say what you will about seeing a show/playing a show at CBGB, but Canal Room is whack. Their website has a link to info about the space, with 2 different options—sound and style. This is what it said about the style, as photos rotated around it: “The décor is a fusion of Euro-style architectural millwork and seating mixed with Asian accents to create a dynamic atmosphere. An elevated glass enclosed VIP area overlooks the room, with an unobstructed view of the stage. Design features include bamboo floors, ivory Barcelona chairs, black leather seating, touches of red, exotic greenery, and a state-of-the-art DJ booth in the center of it all.” (Touches of red? Wooo!) This is the info about the sound, in addition to the model number of the brand-new speakers: “Combining unparalleled sound with an equally amazing light show makes Canal Room a first-choice for Industry Show Case events, headlining performances, record release parties, and debuting talented DJs and musicians.” Sterile? More like going to see a show at Ikea. I just got the feeling that a whack-ass venue like this would make The Annex feel like a wood-paneled rec. room. And maybe that’s what’s been getting to me. It’s not CBGB for the sake of CBGB and the history and all (well, only a little) but going on and on about the décor, and the vibe at The Annex, it’s like the emphasis is on see-and-be-seen photo ops, not live music. It doesn’t matter who exactly is onstage as long as you’re swilling your exotic mixed drinks and there’s an awesome DJ spinning Arctic Donkeys—provided somebody doesn’t text you about another awesome party before it comes on.
Anyway, to make a long story short, what it all boiled down to is that now August 18 was open. What to do, where to go. Aug. 18 did ring a bell, and not just for back-to-Rocky’s. Or maybe that was it. And then I saw it: New York Dolls at the Seaport. (Thanx, NYCPunk!) Holy shit. See, I knew there was a reason I passed on their Tower Records in-store. (I’m just not a fan of in-stores.) Thursday or maybe it was Friday I saw Dropkicks tix back on sale. Shit. I really want to go, but I don’t. Besides, I’ve been through enough with that day already, and I’ve locked on seeing the Dolls. I was tempted to head down there as soon as I got out on Friday, believe me, and hang out down there all afternoon. I told myself that I had to head out by 4:00, 4:15 the latest. I left a little after 4:30. When I got down to Fulton St., there was already a mass exodus heading out. As I got closer, I could see a sea of teeming humanity. Why the hell did I even go? I got enough pix from Irving last April, so it doesn’t matter that I’m not up front and besides, when it gets dark it’s going to be hard to take pix and you know me, that’s not going to stop me from blowing through a 4-pack of film. It’s going to be a mob scene like at Siren because it’s summer and not too hot and a Friday so everybody’s going to be down there regardless of what’s going on onstage. Then again, the Dolls were added last minute, so maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. And they’re not gonna start at 7. I’m sure there’s an opening act. Or maybe not, because who wants to open for the Dolls? Rhetorical question, I know, because every hipster band would give their eyeteeth for the chance, but I mean think about it. See what I mean? But as I got to the pier, I saw a small group sitting in front of the stage and that was it. So I did get up front, but off to the side, which is good enough for me because it wasn’t that far off to the side that I was in front of the speakers. Now all I had to do was wait.
Delphine Blue was DJing beforehand and it turns out that Tralala was the opening act. Y’know, I didn’t even think to check into that. Alls I saw was New York Dolls free on a nite I ended up being free. Who the hell cares who the opening act is? But maybe they’d be better on a bigger stage. I so love being right. When I saw Tralala in Sept., I wasn’t very impressed. A 7-piece band with 4 female vocalists onstage at Ace of Clubs didn’t really do it for me. Besides, I might’ve gone in with a “This is CMJ! You better bring it!” attitude, because they were always buzzed about in the Voice, so maybe I also had the whole “CMJ features the best, up-and-coming-bands” mentality before I realized that it’s just a brand-name pay-to-play music showcase, like MEANYFEST. That, and I’d just started the site, so maybe I was also full of myself. Well, moreso than usual. “We’re Tralala and we’re here to see the Dolls! And we’re from Brooklyn!” (Well, duh.) One of the girls had a sign on her back that said Kicked out of the scene. The first time around they struck me as silly, and who needs 4 lead singers in the first place? But on a bigger stage, outside on a beautiful summer evening, I was really digging their 60s-girl-group-meets-H&M pop vibe. Their songs were infectious and you’d have to be dead not to like them. Yeah, they’re a little cloying as well as coy, but Fired Up stayed in my head long after it was over. And the line “We’re gonna burn so hot we’re gonna burn right into the ground!” seemed telling. Big Yellow Taxi (“Taxi! Taxi! Please take me home/If you knew what I’ve been through/You’d throw me a bone!”) put the Donnas in Williamsburg. (“Taxi! Taxi! Beep! Beep!”) (OK. FINE. I liked the 1st band. They were a lot of fun.)
It seemed that it happened gradually, yet all at once. The pier was mobbed. It seemed like the whole entire city was there—Oldies, young’uns, hipsters, families, huge mohawk, etc. People hanging out the Pizzeria Uno and surrounding restaurants, rows deep on all sides of the stage. Even around the back, and they couldn’t even see the stage. You couldn’t even see the storefronts across the pier what with the crowd. Then some nutjob space invader comes out of nowhere and plants herself behind me and in front of the couple that were standing there since forever. And of course her perfume could peel paint. The couple she blocked just stood there, like, Fuck you, I want to kill you, but what can you. So I had to put my elbow out lest she thought she could put her hand next to me on the railing and claim some space up front and drift in. Turns out the bass player for the Box Tops, who were scheduled for that night, had a medical emergency and they had to cancel. Which sucks if the guy is sick and all, but cool because I got to see the Dolls. For free. David Johansen came onstage wearing a pirate hat and loads o’ bling and a midriff-baring top. I thought the barricades were gonna topple over. The moat was insane and at first there was a photo pit, but the photogs left after they got their shots. Johansen said that many musicians were inspired by The Dolls, but the most notable one was Janis Joplin and they did Piece Of My Heart. They also did tracks off the new album, (One Day It Will Please Us To Remember Even This) otherwise they’d be an oldies act, as they said. He thanked us all for coming to the pirate port. We could’ve been out looting and pillaging but we came to see them, which is beautiful. Two encores—and that’s past the usual, D’ya think they’ll come back if we cheer loud enough?” Steve, the guy who books the Seaport, said that was their greatest nite of the summer. And before, “I can’t believe I’m saying this. . . . New York Dolls!”
I was expecting it to be crazier getting out of there, but it wasn’t that bad. I got on the 5, still high from the show, and after we pass one stop I hear an announcement that the next stop is Wall St. What? I look up at the route listing. I can’t believe I’m that out of it and went downtown instead, but I’ve been known to do that after gigs. The train slows and I see where we are. Turns out we were at Grand Central and all the signs weren’t corresponding, so I had to go back down 2 stops. Well, I had time to kill, anyway.
He had sideburns, and he was a guy, so I guess that made him an expert. Beer in hand, he loudly passed judgment on every album in the juke. He was wearing a T-shirt from the Field Museum with a spider on it and it said Wolf Spider. Wolf Spider, yeah, too trendy for me. I read they played that surprise gig at the Annex and the Trinity and MisShapes were there. Yawn.
The Stones album in there is the best. “The Pogues are so great, but I don’t think a lot of people dig them.”
Yeah, I figured they sold out the Nokia because Towers of London opened one night, as did Seanchai.
“How come I’ve never heard of The Pogues?” asked the woman puzzling over the juke.
You probably shouldn’t say that out loud because, for one, consider where you are, and 2, you never know who’s sitting near you. Y’know, the band’s gonna go on before you hear your megamix. Barring that, I know where the off switch is.
A few songs later, The Professor breaks it down for the group of women he’s with: “Flogging Molly.”
“Yeah!” they chorus.
I totally wasn’t expecting the new album out in August as promised on Seanchai’s site to be out in August. So I had to leave a bar with no AC to go to Duane Reade, which is right by the 6, to take out money for it. Not only was that place cold, there was a water cooler in the back by the pharmacy. And then it was back into the heat to a bar with no AC and then back to the 6. I was trying to get the cellophane off and totally missed my stop and had to head back to the downtown 6 to 51/Lex. I’m not complaining, as I now had the new Seanchai album in my hands, I’m just saying that I missed my stop yet again that night. Well, actually it was morning so that makes it okay.
So Tralala was cool, New York Dolls rocked, it was free, Seanchai is back at Rocky’s, and their new album is out. This must be what Loafass is talking about when they sing Big Dick Day.
Seanchai & The Unity Squad @ Rocky Sullivan’s
August 18, 2006
I never wanted to see Dropkick Murphys at CBGB in the first place. And that’s not just sour grapes because the show sold out before I knew about it—haven’t gotten an email from DKM in years, I guess they upgraded their mailing list at some point and I fell off it and never re-signed—but I had my heart set on Information Society for that day.
Hee hee. I had a feeling they’d resurface at some point. Yeah, at Canal Room, but what the hell. It’ll be silly fun. It took me a few days to buy the ticket, and I paid the surcharge because I didn’t know when I’d have time to find the place and get the ticket at the box office. And shortly after I saw it listed, I saw bands listed around that sounded like they could be interesting and I’d have to remind myself that Information Society was that day.
The show was cancelled. I found out on my birthday. Nice. Ticket automatically refunded? I guess that means I can keep the ticket I already received in the mail, which is nice—as well as the trip to Bridgeport right there—but I really wanted to go. And at least I got lucky with the automatic refund, because it’s a major pain in the arse to get a refund out of TW. The 2 times I tried, I gave up and ate the charges. Once it was when I got a terrible cold and passed on the Briefs at Maxwell’s because there was smoking in Jersey, it was $10, and I’d just seen them locally the day before. Once it was when the Mooney Suzuki cancelled Southpaw, but I reused the ticket when they played there a few months later.
So when I found out the show was cancelled, yeah, I was bummed because I wanted to go, but I tried to cheer myself up: I can save film, save money, save time, save film developing, save myself from writing about the show—but I really wanted to write about it. In fact, I’d started writing it mentally. It was going to begin, “For the record, I never wanted to see Dropkick Murphys at CBGB in the first place. And that’s not just sour grapes because the show sold out before I knew about it. . . .” And, of course, I’d have to bring this up: Canal Room. Though I’ve never been there before and Information Society was to be my first time, what I was going to say about the place would’ve gone something like this: Say what you will about seeing a show/playing a show at CBGB, but Canal Room is whack. Their website has a link to info about the space, with 2 different options—sound and style. This is what it said about the style, as photos rotated around it: “The décor is a fusion of Euro-style architectural millwork and seating mixed with Asian accents to create a dynamic atmosphere. An elevated glass enclosed VIP area overlooks the room, with an unobstructed view of the stage. Design features include bamboo floors, ivory Barcelona chairs, black leather seating, touches of red, exotic greenery, and a state-of-the-art DJ booth in the center of it all.” (Touches of red? Wooo!) This is the info about the sound, in addition to the model number of the brand-new speakers: “Combining unparalleled sound with an equally amazing light show makes Canal Room a first-choice for Industry Show Case events, headlining performances, record release parties, and debuting talented DJs and musicians.” Sterile? More like going to see a show at Ikea. I just got the feeling that a whack-ass venue like this would make The Annex feel like a wood-paneled rec. room. And maybe that’s what’s been getting to me. It’s not CBGB for the sake of CBGB and the history and all (well, only a little) but going on and on about the décor, and the vibe at The Annex, it’s like the emphasis is on see-and-be-seen photo ops, not live music. It doesn’t matter who exactly is onstage as long as you’re swilling your exotic mixed drinks and there’s an awesome DJ spinning Arctic Donkeys—provided somebody doesn’t text you about another awesome party before it comes on.
Anyway, to make a long story short, what it all boiled down to is that now August 18 was open. What to do, where to go. Aug. 18 did ring a bell, and not just for back-to-Rocky’s. Or maybe that was it. And then I saw it: New York Dolls at the Seaport. (Thanx, NYCPunk!) Holy shit. See, I knew there was a reason I passed on their Tower Records in-store. (I’m just not a fan of in-stores.) Thursday or maybe it was Friday I saw Dropkicks tix back on sale. Shit. I really want to go, but I don’t. Besides, I’ve been through enough with that day already, and I’ve locked on seeing the Dolls. I was tempted to head down there as soon as I got out on Friday, believe me, and hang out down there all afternoon. I told myself that I had to head out by 4:00, 4:15 the latest. I left a little after 4:30. When I got down to Fulton St., there was already a mass exodus heading out. As I got closer, I could see a sea of teeming humanity. Why the hell did I even go? I got enough pix from Irving last April, so it doesn’t matter that I’m not up front and besides, when it gets dark it’s going to be hard to take pix and you know me, that’s not going to stop me from blowing through a 4-pack of film. It’s going to be a mob scene like at Siren because it’s summer and not too hot and a Friday so everybody’s going to be down there regardless of what’s going on onstage. Then again, the Dolls were added last minute, so maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. And they’re not gonna start at 7. I’m sure there’s an opening act. Or maybe not, because who wants to open for the Dolls? Rhetorical question, I know, because every hipster band would give their eyeteeth for the chance, but I mean think about it. See what I mean? But as I got to the pier, I saw a small group sitting in front of the stage and that was it. So I did get up front, but off to the side, which is good enough for me because it wasn’t that far off to the side that I was in front of the speakers. Now all I had to do was wait.
Delphine Blue was DJing beforehand and it turns out that Tralala was the opening act. Y’know, I didn’t even think to check into that. Alls I saw was New York Dolls free on a nite I ended up being free. Who the hell cares who the opening act is? But maybe they’d be better on a bigger stage. I so love being right. When I saw Tralala in Sept., I wasn’t very impressed. A 7-piece band with 4 female vocalists onstage at Ace of Clubs didn’t really do it for me. Besides, I might’ve gone in with a “This is CMJ! You better bring it!” attitude, because they were always buzzed about in the Voice, so maybe I also had the whole “CMJ features the best, up-and-coming-bands” mentality before I realized that it’s just a brand-name pay-to-play music showcase, like MEANYFEST. That, and I’d just started the site, so maybe I was also full of myself. Well, moreso than usual. “We’re Tralala and we’re here to see the Dolls! And we’re from Brooklyn!” (Well, duh.) One of the girls had a sign on her back that said Kicked out of the scene. The first time around they struck me as silly, and who needs 4 lead singers in the first place? But on a bigger stage, outside on a beautiful summer evening, I was really digging their 60s-girl-group-meets-H&M pop vibe. Their songs were infectious and you’d have to be dead not to like them. Yeah, they’re a little cloying as well as coy, but Fired Up stayed in my head long after it was over. And the line “We’re gonna burn so hot we’re gonna burn right into the ground!” seemed telling. Big Yellow Taxi (“Taxi! Taxi! Please take me home/If you knew what I’ve been through/You’d throw me a bone!”) put the Donnas in Williamsburg. (“Taxi! Taxi! Beep! Beep!”) (OK. FINE. I liked the 1st band. They were a lot of fun.)
It seemed that it happened gradually, yet all at once. The pier was mobbed. It seemed like the whole entire city was there—Oldies, young’uns, hipsters, families, huge mohawk, etc. People hanging out the Pizzeria Uno and surrounding restaurants, rows deep on all sides of the stage. Even around the back, and they couldn’t even see the stage. You couldn’t even see the storefronts across the pier what with the crowd. Then some nutjob space invader comes out of nowhere and plants herself behind me and in front of the couple that were standing there since forever. And of course her perfume could peel paint. The couple she blocked just stood there, like, Fuck you, I want to kill you, but what can you. So I had to put my elbow out lest she thought she could put her hand next to me on the railing and claim some space up front and drift in. Turns out the bass player for the Box Tops, who were scheduled for that night, had a medical emergency and they had to cancel. Which sucks if the guy is sick and all, but cool because I got to see the Dolls. For free. David Johansen came onstage wearing a pirate hat and loads o’ bling and a midriff-baring top. I thought the barricades were gonna topple over. The moat was insane and at first there was a photo pit, but the photogs left after they got their shots. Johansen said that many musicians were inspired by The Dolls, but the most notable one was Janis Joplin and they did Piece Of My Heart. They also did tracks off the new album, (One Day It Will Please Us To Remember Even This) otherwise they’d be an oldies act, as they said. He thanked us all for coming to the pirate port. We could’ve been out looting and pillaging but we came to see them, which is beautiful. Two encores—and that’s past the usual, D’ya think they’ll come back if we cheer loud enough?” Steve, the guy who books the Seaport, said that was their greatest nite of the summer. And before, “I can’t believe I’m saying this. . . . New York Dolls!”
I was expecting it to be crazier getting out of there, but it wasn’t that bad. I got on the 5, still high from the show, and after we pass one stop I hear an announcement that the next stop is Wall St. What? I look up at the route listing. I can’t believe I’m that out of it and went downtown instead, but I’ve been known to do that after gigs. The train slows and I see where we are. Turns out we were at Grand Central and all the signs weren’t corresponding, so I had to go back down 2 stops. Well, I had time to kill, anyway.
He had sideburns, and he was a guy, so I guess that made him an expert. Beer in hand, he loudly passed judgment on every album in the juke. He was wearing a T-shirt from the Field Museum with a spider on it and it said Wolf Spider. Wolf Spider, yeah, too trendy for me. I read they played that surprise gig at the Annex and the Trinity and MisShapes were there. Yawn.
The Stones album in there is the best. “The Pogues are so great, but I don’t think a lot of people dig them.”
Yeah, I figured they sold out the Nokia because Towers of London opened one night, as did Seanchai.
“How come I’ve never heard of The Pogues?” asked the woman puzzling over the juke.
You probably shouldn’t say that out loud because, for one, consider where you are, and 2, you never know who’s sitting near you. Y’know, the band’s gonna go on before you hear your megamix. Barring that, I know where the off switch is.
A few songs later, The Professor breaks it down for the group of women he’s with: “Flogging Molly.”
“Yeah!” they chorus.
I totally wasn’t expecting the new album out in August as promised on Seanchai’s site to be out in August. So I had to leave a bar with no AC to go to Duane Reade, which is right by the 6, to take out money for it. Not only was that place cold, there was a water cooler in the back by the pharmacy. And then it was back into the heat to a bar with no AC and then back to the 6. I was trying to get the cellophane off and totally missed my stop and had to head back to the downtown 6 to 51/Lex. I’m not complaining, as I now had the new Seanchai album in my hands, I’m just saying that I missed my stop yet again that night. Well, actually it was morning so that makes it okay.
So Tralala was cool, New York Dolls rocked, it was free, Seanchai is back at Rocky’s, and their new album is out. This must be what Loafass is talking about when they sing Big Dick Day.
posted by heather @ 11:45 AM
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