I DO Like Mondays*
(* liking of Mondays begins after 5pm)
East Coast Scammers/The Wheezing Stumblers/The Tosspots
@ The Pussycat Lounge
Ed Sullivan on Acid & The Umlautz @ Freddy’s
12/4/06
Yeah, I saw that “punk night at the strip club” listed and while there are some bands on there that I did want to see and some bands that I have seen, I was all, 7 bands on a Monday night? Don’t you think that’s a bit much for a Monday night, not to mention a bit, uh, loud?
Besides, I had better things to do. As a music fan with discerning taste, I was going to stay in and watch the Billboard Music Awards and make fun of it. Can you imagine how classic it would be? Hosted by Tweedlemoron and Tweedlemoron-er, and the Post, for some reason, decided that announcing that a certain fading pop star’s partying habits du jour is front-page news. Can you imagine the black hole of stupidity over Vegas when she host the Awards show? The Post asked. Oh, it’ll be epic. It’ll be funny in the way that someone other than you stepping in dogshit is funny. And I have to watch this. I intended to post about it, make my witty little observations, and feel content in the knowledge that I’m so much better than them.
Wait. That’s like shooting dead fish in a barrel. (I almost said “dead retarded fish” but I don’t want to insult the retarded by comparing them to the co-hosts of the BMA because the retarded have enough problems.) And then I saw the commercials for the Awards: “Honoring the artists you made #1: Fergie! The Killers! Gwen Stefani! Mary J. Blige! Ludacris featuring Young Jeezy! The Fray! And did we mention Janet Jackson? Anything could happen!” (Well, I know what won’t happen.)
And then I realized something: These are not “the artists I made #1!”
Must not . . . be in apartment . . . Monday night. . . .
Because you know that if I’m there, even if I’m at the computer I’ll still have one ear on the TV and I will watch it.
What to do, what to do.
The next day I was reading The Onion calendar and saw a pic from Dr. Katz, Professional Therapist. Oh my God. UCB Theatre is having a Dr. Katz marathon, and it just so happens to be on 12/4. I’m so there. Then I read the write-up. It’s actually just an informal Q&A w/the creator of the show. Oh. Dammit. But Pat O’Shea is having his stand-up showcase @ Freddy’s! Woo! All is saved!
Uhm, but, y’know, Brooklyn is really far away for a Monday night. And it’s cold. No offense to Brooklyn, Freddy’s, or Pat O’Shea. And Roger’s working that night, so it’ll take me at least 45 minutes to walk out of there.
And then I realized something else: Not only are the artists featured on the BMA not “the artists I made #1,” but what’s the 1 thing that the 3 Skankateers—Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, and Britney Spears—have in common? (Besides being alcoholic skanks?)
They’ve all recorded albums.
Hello, punk night at the strip club.
Okay. Aside from the fact that the flyer says “free” and some band sites say free, one says cheap, one says $5, and they all mention strippers downstairs, I can’t find set times. Probably because I can’t read the calendar on the Pussycat site from home, but then again I probably won’t be able to access the site from work. And $5 is a small price to pay for music that isn’t featured on the Billboard Music Awards.
Yeah, 7 bands is a lot for a Monday and while I’d rather see the bands I haven’t seen because who knows when I’d be able to catch them again with my schedule and bands could cancel at the last minute, I figure I’d go and see what I can see.
And then I get an email from Pat. That Monday’s comedy showcase also features the last Umlautz performance until sometime next year. They’re going on at “10:30 or so.”
Jeez, couldn’t you have done this on a night that I’m not so busy?
Ha. Yeah, this from the person who’d planned on staying in and making fun of pop music—I mean, commercial music—all night.
OK. So I thought about scrapping the bands. I need a good larf anyway and now seeing The Umlautz is way more important than seeing bands that are always playing in some bill combination or other. But seeing a crapload of bands was my original plan. I emailed Pat and he said “probably midnight.” Since I cannot screw this one up, I tell myself I have to leave at 10:00 and if I miss part (or all) of their set, I do have it in writing. Though I could access the Pussycat site from work, it hasn’t been updated. Yeah, this coming from me.
And it was a full moon.
It’s really warm in my place. I know this because I’m there long enough to pee, feed the cat, and pick up my camera. Outside the wind slices through me and I want to just go back home, crawl into bed, and lounge with my pussycat.
I make good time all the way down. Every train comes right away at every platform I’m at. I’d considered taking the 2/3 to Chambers and then the 1 to Rector, but figured it would be the same difference so when I got to 42nd and saw the 1 there, I took that. At 10 to 8 we were held momentarily by the train’s dispatcher right outside Rector and I thought, Rector? It nearly killed ‘er!
My arrival at the Pussycat that night—or at that time of night—brought the chick factor up to a grand total of 1, no offense to the lovely bar maiden. Hell, I was probably the only person there that night (or at that point of the show) not in a band playing that night—or in a band, period.
It was kinda hard for me to catch East Coast Scammers’ lyrics beyond their repeated use of the F-word, but then again I wear earplugs. I thought, Ah, to be a 20-yr-old whiteboy in a band and though the singer looked 17, you had to be 21 to get in so I assume that’s how old he is. I sat down in the middle of their set, which led everyone else to sit down. The singer thanked us for making the difficult decision of choosing to see them rather than the strippers, and I’m like, Can’t you read my internal narration? I’m a chick! Though by the end of their set, there was another girl there, but I think she was with a guy in one of the bands. So I think I was the only girl there who didn’t have to be there.
I had a feeling, but I still went upstairs first. Locked, same as Halloween. So in order to use the bathroom, you have to use the downstairs one. As in, next door. As in, down the hall past the naked chicks. Hey, at least in a strip club there is a ladies room, unlike at gay leatherman clubs.
I was starting to worry because while the bands’ sets weren’t that long, in the time it took them to change equipment and plug and unplug and twiddle knobs, another of these bands could’ve played most of their set and if I missed The Umlautz that night, there isn’t going to be a gig until April.
I really liked The Wheezing Stumblers and it was kinda funny seeing them that night because I realized that by the time they played at the Staten Island show it totally hit me where I was and what I’d done, plus how late it was, and what was I going to do about getting home and that distracted me. During the brief pause for technical difficulties and trying to figure out which wire you connect to which, there was stumbling backward (didn’t hear wheezing. Not sure if asthmas counts) off the stage, which is real life and not something you’d see on the Billboard Music Awards.
We were clearly on a talent upswing. The Tosspots are incredible and watching them, I knew I’d made the right decision in coming out—and stopping there 1st. I can’t believe a band would come from Buffalo to play NYC for free, and on a Monday in December. I was all excited, because when they start touring and open for bigger punk bands, I can say that I saw them above a strip club and they came down from Buffalo. Their merch guy also wore a bunny suit modified to accommodate a wallet chain because that’s how cold it is in clubs in Buffalo. And then I had to leave, which was good because I really wanted to see The Tosspots. Like their name, what can I say? And the first O in their name is a happy face.
("The state of today's music industry makes me wanna tear my hair out!")
("Does this rabbit suit make me look cold?")
(Say what?)
So then I thought that it wouldn’t be so bad because Chambers is—what—one stop down, and I can get the 2/3 from there. Uh, nope. Chambers is one stop uptown and then I’d have to head back down, toward Brooklyn. But it all worked out and I got to Freddy’s to find Ed Sullivan on Acid still in effect. The comic who was up was funny and Pat was in the back with his watch, timing the skit. And then I had to wonder. Pat’s a comic also and I wonder if it’s hard for him to have to time the set, and listen and not get distracted. Or would it be harder for the comic engrossed in a story, trying to get it all in and have it have the same impact? Or is it harder to be in a band and come up with a setlist? Because with a band, you also know you have a set time to get your point across and leave an impact. Or maybe it’s the same difference. The last guy up was one of those guys—you know the type—I didn’t know if I should laugh or be pissed off at him. Adrienne was there and she looked like she was trying to stifle her pissed-off expression since she was sitting up front. Must not laugh. Not funny. And then she left abruptly. I, too, am offended. So later after the comedy part I told her that her horrified expressions were classic and she said she wasn’t pissed off, she just had a long day at work and was trying to stifle yawns.
("Uno! Dos! Tres! Suzy Quattro!") People took seats for The Umlautz of course oblivious to the fact that seats go around the table, not in front of it. So I was getting blocked because I was at the front and I couldn’t stand because then I’d be blocking someone and I didn’t want to stand off to the side. And Brooklyn vs. Bush TV was taping them, so they had their own lighting and carrying it around and carrying cameras, so I didn’t know what to do about the flash. Use it? Was their lighting enough, as well as the lighting that’s already there, because I was sitting right up front? Luckily the people in front of me got the hint and moved, so I got a nice view of The Umlautz and tried not to cry. Why must Bleu go to Texas now when they should be working on the band? No, I know it’s for family obligations, but fate is cruel, indeed. And of course with their set being filmed and a music critic present, Pat broke a guitar string. But I don’t really mind. It’s live music, and it was still a great set. Everything sounded great. Hey, if I wanted to see perfect I’d watch the overprocessed musical Cheez-whiz crap on the Billboard Awards.
(I kinda like how this one came out, even though the lighting is bad and the pix were matte even though I said glossy. It has a nice, old-fashioned effect. Then again, I'm the one who did not get the photographer gig w/CMJ, so take it from whence it comes.)
The cold was slicing into me and even with the D train I got in after 2. Why do I do these things?
Oh, right.
Music.
East Coast Scammers/The Wheezing Stumblers/The Tosspots
@ The Pussycat Lounge
Ed Sullivan on Acid & The Umlautz @ Freddy’s
12/4/06
Yeah, I saw that “punk night at the strip club” listed and while there are some bands on there that I did want to see and some bands that I have seen, I was all, 7 bands on a Monday night? Don’t you think that’s a bit much for a Monday night, not to mention a bit, uh, loud?
Besides, I had better things to do. As a music fan with discerning taste, I was going to stay in and watch the Billboard Music Awards and make fun of it. Can you imagine how classic it would be? Hosted by Tweedlemoron and Tweedlemoron-er, and the Post, for some reason, decided that announcing that a certain fading pop star’s partying habits du jour is front-page news. Can you imagine the black hole of stupidity over Vegas when she host the Awards show? The Post asked. Oh, it’ll be epic. It’ll be funny in the way that someone other than you stepping in dogshit is funny. And I have to watch this. I intended to post about it, make my witty little observations, and feel content in the knowledge that I’m so much better than them.
Wait. That’s like shooting dead fish in a barrel. (I almost said “dead retarded fish” but I don’t want to insult the retarded by comparing them to the co-hosts of the BMA because the retarded have enough problems.) And then I saw the commercials for the Awards: “Honoring the artists you made #1: Fergie! The Killers! Gwen Stefani! Mary J. Blige! Ludacris featuring Young Jeezy! The Fray! And did we mention Janet Jackson? Anything could happen!” (Well, I know what won’t happen.)
And then I realized something: These are not “the artists I made #1!”
Must not . . . be in apartment . . . Monday night. . . .
Because you know that if I’m there, even if I’m at the computer I’ll still have one ear on the TV and I will watch it.
What to do, what to do.
The next day I was reading The Onion calendar and saw a pic from Dr. Katz, Professional Therapist. Oh my God. UCB Theatre is having a Dr. Katz marathon, and it just so happens to be on 12/4. I’m so there. Then I read the write-up. It’s actually just an informal Q&A w/the creator of the show. Oh. Dammit. But Pat O’Shea is having his stand-up showcase @ Freddy’s! Woo! All is saved!
Uhm, but, y’know, Brooklyn is really far away for a Monday night. And it’s cold. No offense to Brooklyn, Freddy’s, or Pat O’Shea. And Roger’s working that night, so it’ll take me at least 45 minutes to walk out of there.
And then I realized something else: Not only are the artists featured on the BMA not “the artists I made #1,” but what’s the 1 thing that the 3 Skankateers—Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, and Britney Spears—have in common? (Besides being alcoholic skanks?)
They’ve all recorded albums.
Hello, punk night at the strip club.
Okay. Aside from the fact that the flyer says “free” and some band sites say free, one says cheap, one says $5, and they all mention strippers downstairs, I can’t find set times. Probably because I can’t read the calendar on the Pussycat site from home, but then again I probably won’t be able to access the site from work. And $5 is a small price to pay for music that isn’t featured on the Billboard Music Awards.
Yeah, 7 bands is a lot for a Monday and while I’d rather see the bands I haven’t seen because who knows when I’d be able to catch them again with my schedule and bands could cancel at the last minute, I figure I’d go and see what I can see.
And then I get an email from Pat. That Monday’s comedy showcase also features the last Umlautz performance until sometime next year. They’re going on at “10:30 or so.”
Jeez, couldn’t you have done this on a night that I’m not so busy?
Ha. Yeah, this from the person who’d planned on staying in and making fun of pop music—I mean, commercial music—all night.
OK. So I thought about scrapping the bands. I need a good larf anyway and now seeing The Umlautz is way more important than seeing bands that are always playing in some bill combination or other. But seeing a crapload of bands was my original plan. I emailed Pat and he said “probably midnight.” Since I cannot screw this one up, I tell myself I have to leave at 10:00 and if I miss part (or all) of their set, I do have it in writing. Though I could access the Pussycat site from work, it hasn’t been updated. Yeah, this coming from me.
And it was a full moon.
It’s really warm in my place. I know this because I’m there long enough to pee, feed the cat, and pick up my camera. Outside the wind slices through me and I want to just go back home, crawl into bed, and lounge with my pussycat.
I make good time all the way down. Every train comes right away at every platform I’m at. I’d considered taking the 2/3 to Chambers and then the 1 to Rector, but figured it would be the same difference so when I got to 42nd and saw the 1 there, I took that. At 10 to 8 we were held momentarily by the train’s dispatcher right outside Rector and I thought, Rector? It nearly killed ‘er!
My arrival at the Pussycat that night—or at that time of night—brought the chick factor up to a grand total of 1, no offense to the lovely bar maiden. Hell, I was probably the only person there that night (or at that point of the show) not in a band playing that night—or in a band, period.
It was kinda hard for me to catch East Coast Scammers’ lyrics beyond their repeated use of the F-word, but then again I wear earplugs. I thought, Ah, to be a 20-yr-old whiteboy in a band and though the singer looked 17, you had to be 21 to get in so I assume that’s how old he is. I sat down in the middle of their set, which led everyone else to sit down. The singer thanked us for making the difficult decision of choosing to see them rather than the strippers, and I’m like, Can’t you read my internal narration? I’m a chick! Though by the end of their set, there was another girl there, but I think she was with a guy in one of the bands. So I think I was the only girl there who didn’t have to be there.
I had a feeling, but I still went upstairs first. Locked, same as Halloween. So in order to use the bathroom, you have to use the downstairs one. As in, next door. As in, down the hall past the naked chicks. Hey, at least in a strip club there is a ladies room, unlike at gay leatherman clubs.
I was starting to worry because while the bands’ sets weren’t that long, in the time it took them to change equipment and plug and unplug and twiddle knobs, another of these bands could’ve played most of their set and if I missed The Umlautz that night, there isn’t going to be a gig until April.
I really liked The Wheezing Stumblers and it was kinda funny seeing them that night because I realized that by the time they played at the Staten Island show it totally hit me where I was and what I’d done, plus how late it was, and what was I going to do about getting home and that distracted me. During the brief pause for technical difficulties and trying to figure out which wire you connect to which, there was stumbling backward (didn’t hear wheezing. Not sure if asthmas counts) off the stage, which is real life and not something you’d see on the Billboard Music Awards.We were clearly on a talent upswing. The Tosspots are incredible and watching them, I knew I’d made the right decision in coming out—and stopping there 1st. I can’t believe a band would come from Buffalo to play NYC for free, and on a Monday in December. I was all excited, because when they start touring and open for bigger punk bands, I can say that I saw them above a strip club and they came down from Buffalo. Their merch guy also wore a bunny suit modified to accommodate a wallet chain because that’s how cold it is in clubs in Buffalo. And then I had to leave, which was good because I really wanted to see The Tosspots. Like their name, what can I say? And the first O in their name is a happy face.
("The state of today's music industry makes me wanna tear my hair out!")
("Does this rabbit suit make me look cold?")
(Say what?)
So then I thought that it wouldn’t be so bad because Chambers is—what—one stop down, and I can get the 2/3 from there. Uh, nope. Chambers is one stop uptown and then I’d have to head back down, toward Brooklyn. But it all worked out and I got to Freddy’s to find Ed Sullivan on Acid still in effect. The comic who was up was funny and Pat was in the back with his watch, timing the skit. And then I had to wonder. Pat’s a comic also and I wonder if it’s hard for him to have to time the set, and listen and not get distracted. Or would it be harder for the comic engrossed in a story, trying to get it all in and have it have the same impact? Or is it harder to be in a band and come up with a setlist? Because with a band, you also know you have a set time to get your point across and leave an impact. Or maybe it’s the same difference. The last guy up was one of those guys—you know the type—I didn’t know if I should laugh or be pissed off at him. Adrienne was there and she looked like she was trying to stifle her pissed-off expression since she was sitting up front. Must not laugh. Not funny. And then she left abruptly. I, too, am offended. So later after the comedy part I told her that her horrified expressions were classic and she said she wasn’t pissed off, she just had a long day at work and was trying to stifle yawns.
("Uno! Dos! Tres! Suzy Quattro!") People took seats for The Umlautz of course oblivious to the fact that seats go around the table, not in front of it. So I was getting blocked because I was at the front and I couldn’t stand because then I’d be blocking someone and I didn’t want to stand off to the side. And Brooklyn vs. Bush TV was taping them, so they had their own lighting and carrying it around and carrying cameras, so I didn’t know what to do about the flash. Use it? Was their lighting enough, as well as the lighting that’s already there, because I was sitting right up front? Luckily the people in front of me got the hint and moved, so I got a nice view of The Umlautz and tried not to cry. Why must Bleu go to Texas now when they should be working on the band? No, I know it’s for family obligations, but fate is cruel, indeed. And of course with their set being filmed and a music critic present, Pat broke a guitar string. But I don’t really mind. It’s live music, and it was still a great set. Everything sounded great. Hey, if I wanted to see perfect I’d watch the overprocessed musical Cheez-whiz crap on the Billboard Awards.
(I kinda like how this one came out, even though the lighting is bad and the pix were matte even though I said glossy. It has a nice, old-fashioned effect. Then again, I'm the one who did not get the photographer gig w/CMJ, so take it from whence it comes.)The cold was slicing into me and even with the D train I got in after 2. Why do I do these things?
Oh, right.
Music.
posted by heather @ 12:54 AM
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