Tonight was the inaugural day of the first, annual DC hardcore festival at St. Stephen's. For $15, you got to see 6 bands:
Dropdead (RI)
Mindset (MD)
Sick Fix (DC)
Tenement (WI)
Give (DC)
Satan's Satyrs (VA)
Arriving at 7:30, I missed the first band, Satan's Satyrs, and the first few songs of Give. As I was standing near the door, Gene's, Give's drummer's, parents rushed in. Apparently, no one expected the show to be running so on time. Shows at St. Stephen's, especially shows booked by Chris or Nick, follow a tight schedule. No kidding. The first band was supposed to start at 7. Apparently, they took the stage promptly.
This festival had food options. Shelby and Sheena, enthusiastic and now local vegan bakers, presented a beautifully decorated spread of desserts. I purchased a giant brownie wedge with vanilla frosting and a chocolate-dipped pretzel for $4, which Shelby made. The brownie was moist, rich, and chocolaty. Wish that brownie was regularly available. Shelby should start a catering business. And, yes, I'm a huge fan of brownies.
Beyond the treat-laden table, a guy was selling vegan, chili-covered, Field Roast hot dogs. The hot dog review of my friends: amazing. I watched my friend Carlos eating without a plate a hot dog that was stacked with a giant, leaning-Tower-of-Pisa replica of chili. Impressively, Carlos' white t-shirt remained white. If I'd tried to attack that chili sculpture, trails of hot sauce and Rorschach-like blots of gunk down would have splotched my chest.
Give seemed full of energy and positivity. I love Tenement, who play great music that inspires people to sing along. Moreover, they seem like nice guys. Unfortunately, the PA was acting up during their set, resulting in unintentional undulations in their sound - the volume going up and gradually cutting out like the sound of a car revving up nearby and petering out as that car fades into the distance. Sick Fix played loud and fast songs, but with hooks. Michelle, their singer, stayed off of the stage and within the crowd for the entire set, which I guess worked for the people near the stage. I stood near the middle of the room and her voice remained steady even if she disappeared from my sight entirely. The rest of the band moved around passionately. Pat, the guitarist, hit himself over the head with his guitar twice. Looked painful. I'd probably knock myself out if I tried that stunt. (I play the bass and my bass is darn heavy. Anyway, I guess that I'm just confessing to a lack of coordination.) Mindset put a lot of heart into their set and I enjoyed watching them. Dropdead played insistently in short, explosive bursts of songs, which piled up on top of each other. They directed briefly that people have a duty to animals and encouraged the crowd to be active in the community. They topped off the night serious about animal rights and serious about their music.
Showing posts with label Happenings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Happenings. Show all posts
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Saturday, October 8, 2011
If a Tree Falls
"If a Tree Falls" is a documentary that looks at a trio associated with the Environmental Liberation Front (ELF) who used arson as a political tactic. It starts with background - personal background about Daniel McGowan, one of those ELF members, and situational background as to why people railed against feelings of powerlessness. The film begins with stomach-turning images of two, thin, all-American-looking, teenage girls involved in the World Trade Organization demonstrations in Seattle getting pepper sprayed in the eyes by the police. During their torture, the girls pleaded: "We are peaceful. Why are you using violent methods against peaceful people?" A pigtail swings across her face as she squirms in pain. The film also covers the story of patient environmentalists planning to persuade the legislature to save a majestic, skyscraping redwood. And shows the turmoil as the bulldozers materialize ahead of schedule to plough down the tree for the purpose of a parking lot for a corporate building. The fast-tracked bulldozers silence any potential feedback and signal disrespect for those who stand for the trees. Plus, a man who scaled a tree got pepper sprayed in the eyes by authorities while he was still clinging to a branch and stories above the ground. These images and such stories incite anger.
What did the featured ELF members do? They burned down three buildings in the Northwest in the late 90s. They protested deforestation and slaughterhouses with fire. Yes, they took care to ensure every person had long left the targeted buildings. So, property, not people, went up in flames. Nevertheless, the destruction became the media focus, and the spectacle of destruction overshadowed their effort to draw attention to environmentally unfriendly industry. After the third building, they reassessed their tactics, recognizing that they were scaring people rather than encouraging environmental responsibility. They scattered and ended their affiliations with the group.
Skip ahead six years or so. A breakthrough in the arson cases happens when a person who was tangentially involved with the ELF gets arrested and makes a deal by selling out his former friends. He wears a wire, tapes confessions, and gathers evidence to stay out of prison.
The film, then, follows Daniel McGowan, one of the busted ELF activists, as he waits for sentencing. He appears on screen as a multi-dimensional human being with a family and a fiance. CONTEXT. During the documentary, we see Daniel as a teen, playing sports and spending time with his police-officer father. Daniel moving away from New York. Daniel appreciating the redwoods. Daniel missing his family in New York and wanting to return there in search of greater stability. Daniel feeling remorse. The film humanizes McGowan without condoning the arsons.
The film offers balance by sharing multiple perspectives. The filmmaker interviews the prosecutor who, instead of being a conviction-seeking, jail-pushing persecutor, comes across as concerned about McGowan. He admits that he originally expected the arsonists to all be monsters. An FBI agent shares his excitement over the break in the case and pride in his work. A mill owner revisits his shock in seeing his business in ash and complains of the job loss related to the arson. He regards the mill as part of his family heritage and future.
I went to a Positive Force book discussion a few weeks before seeing the movie. We talked about the book "Green is the New Red." The author Will Potter came. Just like "If a Tree Falls," that book questions the government branding environmentalists as "terrorists." Do crimes against property in which no one is killed or injured constitute acts of terrorism? The government is categorizing people who destroy property as terrorists. People in the discussion group divided over McGowan, though. McGowan had disassociated himself from ELF by the time of his arrest. Any criminal activity on his part was a relic of his past. Unlike anti-abortion activists, he never intended to hurt a single person. Why are environmentalists who only damage property categorized as terrorists while violent activists from the religious right evade such a label? Well, burning buildings scare people. Fire has always intimidated people, because it can get out of control. Plus, on some gut level, a fire outside of a fireplace or campsite is threatening. So, some people in my book group sympathized with McGowan's desire to preserve the environment, but felt that his tactics ultimately helped to portray environmentalists as radical, fringe nuts.
Being regarded as a terrorist subjects a person to increases in potential jail sentences to be served in higher-security prisons. Mr. McGowan was arrested in New York and sentenced to seven years at the federal penitentiary in Marion, Ill.; in February of this year he was moved to a similar prison in Terre Haute, Ind. He was facing life in prison and the prosecutor's plea deal sheltered him from living longer behind bars. Still, as a "terrorist," he landed in super-maximum-security prisons.
The government must not erratically brand activists as "terrorists." The government must analyze the content of a person's actions and his/her dangerousness before demonizing that person.
Personalizing, I'll admit fire scares me. Recently, a huge fire ravaged Bastrop, Texas and threatened to char parts of the gorgeous landscape around Austin. I lived in Austin a long time ago and I still have friends there. They panicked as dry grass and high winds stoked the flames. I worried about them and their homes.
Nevertheless, we cannot legislate based on fear. The ELF arsonists made mistakes, which they admit. Their cause and their motivation, preserving American treasures such as centuries-old trees, is noble. In my opinion, their tactics weren't.
I saw "When a Tree Falls" at E Street Cinema in August and meant to write something about it then. I'm now writing off of old memories. My friend Rachel from Boston was there and, as a photographer, commented on the power of the images in the film. Lush landscapes. Enclosed spaces. I highly recommend this film, which has now aired on PBS.
What did the featured ELF members do? They burned down three buildings in the Northwest in the late 90s. They protested deforestation and slaughterhouses with fire. Yes, they took care to ensure every person had long left the targeted buildings. So, property, not people, went up in flames. Nevertheless, the destruction became the media focus, and the spectacle of destruction overshadowed their effort to draw attention to environmentally unfriendly industry. After the third building, they reassessed their tactics, recognizing that they were scaring people rather than encouraging environmental responsibility. They scattered and ended their affiliations with the group.
Skip ahead six years or so. A breakthrough in the arson cases happens when a person who was tangentially involved with the ELF gets arrested and makes a deal by selling out his former friends. He wears a wire, tapes confessions, and gathers evidence to stay out of prison.
The film, then, follows Daniel McGowan, one of the busted ELF activists, as he waits for sentencing. He appears on screen as a multi-dimensional human being with a family and a fiance. CONTEXT. During the documentary, we see Daniel as a teen, playing sports and spending time with his police-officer father. Daniel moving away from New York. Daniel appreciating the redwoods. Daniel missing his family in New York and wanting to return there in search of greater stability. Daniel feeling remorse. The film humanizes McGowan without condoning the arsons.
The film offers balance by sharing multiple perspectives. The filmmaker interviews the prosecutor who, instead of being a conviction-seeking, jail-pushing persecutor, comes across as concerned about McGowan. He admits that he originally expected the arsonists to all be monsters. An FBI agent shares his excitement over the break in the case and pride in his work. A mill owner revisits his shock in seeing his business in ash and complains of the job loss related to the arson. He regards the mill as part of his family heritage and future.
I went to a Positive Force book discussion a few weeks before seeing the movie. We talked about the book "Green is the New Red." The author Will Potter came. Just like "If a Tree Falls," that book questions the government branding environmentalists as "terrorists." Do crimes against property in which no one is killed or injured constitute acts of terrorism? The government is categorizing people who destroy property as terrorists. People in the discussion group divided over McGowan, though. McGowan had disassociated himself from ELF by the time of his arrest. Any criminal activity on his part was a relic of his past. Unlike anti-abortion activists, he never intended to hurt a single person. Why are environmentalists who only damage property categorized as terrorists while violent activists from the religious right evade such a label? Well, burning buildings scare people. Fire has always intimidated people, because it can get out of control. Plus, on some gut level, a fire outside of a fireplace or campsite is threatening. So, some people in my book group sympathized with McGowan's desire to preserve the environment, but felt that his tactics ultimately helped to portray environmentalists as radical, fringe nuts.
Being regarded as a terrorist subjects a person to increases in potential jail sentences to be served in higher-security prisons. Mr. McGowan was arrested in New York and sentenced to seven years at the federal penitentiary in Marion, Ill.; in February of this year he was moved to a similar prison in Terre Haute, Ind. He was facing life in prison and the prosecutor's plea deal sheltered him from living longer behind bars. Still, as a "terrorist," he landed in super-maximum-security prisons.
The government must not erratically brand activists as "terrorists." The government must analyze the content of a person's actions and his/her dangerousness before demonizing that person.
Personalizing, I'll admit fire scares me. Recently, a huge fire ravaged Bastrop, Texas and threatened to char parts of the gorgeous landscape around Austin. I lived in Austin a long time ago and I still have friends there. They panicked as dry grass and high winds stoked the flames. I worried about them and their homes.
Nevertheless, we cannot legislate based on fear. The ELF arsonists made mistakes, which they admit. Their cause and their motivation, preserving American treasures such as centuries-old trees, is noble. In my opinion, their tactics weren't.
I saw "When a Tree Falls" at E Street Cinema in August and meant to write something about it then. I'm now writing off of old memories. My friend Rachel from Boston was there and, as a photographer, commented on the power of the images in the film. Lush landscapes. Enclosed spaces. I highly recommend this film, which has now aired on PBS.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Bitter American, Sickoids, Stockpile at Wasted Dream
On Friday, Bitter American, Sickoids and Stockpile packed the basement at Wasted Dream while I took a comfortable spot on the stairs.
Bitter American played their first show, yet already have a demo. (Should I say allegedly have a demo since they forgot it at home?) They recorded it before playing live. The band features members of Deathrats, State Violence, Lotus Fucker, Mob Mentality, Hubris, Sick Fix (as of last week - taking over the bass after Jeremy quit), Zhenia Golov, and Natural Law - aka Brad, Brian, and Rob. Very busy guys (and I left out their defunct bands.) Plus, Rob is driving a trolley, which is just cool, but I'm beginning to digress. In this band, they are going for a late Black Flag sound.
The Sickoids from Philly sounded great. Before they started playing, I complimented the singer on his Necros shirt and, annoyingly, he looked at me like I was an ant. (Of course, he may not have heard my words or me appreciating his shirt caught him off guard. Honestly, though, how often do you see Necros shirts? Even on E-Bay, I only come across the one that's, in essence, a Misfits flyer.) Anyway, my friend Jason regarded The Sickoids as a clone band of Government Warning - maybe because the guitarist from Government Warning plays in the Sickoids? I wholeheartedly disagree, which I noted before Jason bicycled away. The main similarity between the Sickoids and Government Warning is that they contain good musicians. The Sickoids possess a more metal touch than Government Warning does. The Sickoids songs are complex for 80s-style punk/hardcore. I wouldn't label them derivative. The only deja vu musical moment for me happened as their set ended. A Subhumans-style riff propelled their last song.
Bitter American played their first show, yet already have a demo. (Should I say allegedly have a demo since they forgot it at home?) They recorded it before playing live. The band features members of Deathrats, State Violence, Lotus Fucker, Mob Mentality, Hubris, Sick Fix (as of last week - taking over the bass after Jeremy quit), Zhenia Golov, and Natural Law - aka Brad, Brian, and Rob. Very busy guys (and I left out their defunct bands.) Plus, Rob is driving a trolley, which is just cool, but I'm beginning to digress. In this band, they are going for a late Black Flag sound.
The Sickoids from Philly sounded great. Before they started playing, I complimented the singer on his Necros shirt and, annoyingly, he looked at me like I was an ant. (Of course, he may not have heard my words or me appreciating his shirt caught him off guard. Honestly, though, how often do you see Necros shirts? Even on E-Bay, I only come across the one that's, in essence, a Misfits flyer.) Anyway, my friend Jason regarded The Sickoids as a clone band of Government Warning - maybe because the guitarist from Government Warning plays in the Sickoids? I wholeheartedly disagree, which I noted before Jason bicycled away. The main similarity between the Sickoids and Government Warning is that they contain good musicians. The Sickoids possess a more metal touch than Government Warning does. The Sickoids songs are complex for 80s-style punk/hardcore. I wouldn't label them derivative. The only deja vu musical moment for me happened as their set ended. A Subhumans-style riff propelled their last song.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
The Aloners & Face the Rail
Last night, my band, The Aloners, played with Face the Rail, Xerox Page (? - from San Francisco and weren't on the flier, but were added on Monday), and State Violence at Wasted Dream aka Dan's basement. I thought the show was supposed to start at 7:00 p.m. I rushed home from work, ate, and got there what I thought was a few minutes late. I walked into a yard empty except for Pat's guitar and pedal board. I made a few phone calls, which resulted in Pat unlocking the basement door for me and retrieving his equipment. Then, I discovered that the show was advertised as starting at 8:00 p.m. Dan said that we should go on 8:30ish.
Dan's basement was hot and humid. My strings got slick from sweat as my hand moved across them. I enjoyed playing, though.
Face the Rail from San Francisco are show veterans, sharing members with Nightstick Justice and Ecoli. They offer intensity and hooks - what more could a person want? Their sound is reminiscent of 80s punk, like a modern day Nardcore band or in the vein of NOTA. Unlike those bands, they've added fuzz to their guitars and complex bass lines. I hope I get the chance to see them play again.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Troubled Sleep from Brooklyn
Troubled Sleep from Brooklyn played a matinee show today in the basement of the Corpse Fortress. I sat on the stairs and, unfortunately, while I could see the singer's lips moving, I heard no vocals. A friend, who stood in the middle of the room, relayed to me that the singer did make a sound, which he didn't like. He criticized the singer's pitch and timing. Ouch.
Joe Mitra recorded Troubled Sleep in Baltimore and describes them as reminiscent of Sonic Youth. I agree with the Sonic Youth/Ciccone Youth comparison somewhat. Their songs showcase pretty melodies as well as a few harsh, dissonant chords. One of their songs contains blues riffs. So, musical variety.
At times, hiss or static overlays their melodies, creating an eerie sense of nostalgia like the crackle in a warbling tune as an old phonographic needle hits lint on a vinyl record. The melody remains discernible but, still, less than fully present. The band deserves points for their style and a mastery of multimeasure rests. Abrupt stops and starts give the audience a chance to absorb the musical activity and adds suspense before the song resumes full force.
Troubled Sleep sold their songs on cassette tapes, a retro medium that is difficult to digitize - denying the point-and-click status quo. Once upon a time, people compiled mixed tapes to share songs with friends. Now, there are fewer cassette tape players in most areas of the country than goats in New York City (at least based on what I've heard about goats on NPR).
I should check with other show attendees. I hope what I heard was not just a weird quirk of where I sat. Anyway, I enjoyed hearing Troubled Sleep and hope to see them play again with a properly functioning PA, microphone, and amplifiers.
Joe Mitra recorded Troubled Sleep in Baltimore and describes them as reminiscent of Sonic Youth. I agree with the Sonic Youth/Ciccone Youth comparison somewhat. Their songs showcase pretty melodies as well as a few harsh, dissonant chords. One of their songs contains blues riffs. So, musical variety.
At times, hiss or static overlays their melodies, creating an eerie sense of nostalgia like the crackle in a warbling tune as an old phonographic needle hits lint on a vinyl record. The melody remains discernible but, still, less than fully present. The band deserves points for their style and a mastery of multimeasure rests. Abrupt stops and starts give the audience a chance to absorb the musical activity and adds suspense before the song resumes full force.
Troubled Sleep sold their songs on cassette tapes, a retro medium that is difficult to digitize - denying the point-and-click status quo. Once upon a time, people compiled mixed tapes to share songs with friends. Now, there are fewer cassette tape players in most areas of the country than goats in New York City (at least based on what I've heard about goats on NPR).
I should check with other show attendees. I hope what I heard was not just a weird quirk of where I sat. Anyway, I enjoyed hearing Troubled Sleep and hope to see them play again with a properly functioning PA, microphone, and amplifiers.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Ft. Reno - Laughing Man & The Evens
Ft. Reno is a large, hilly, grassy park where bands play free concerts on a temporary stage every summer. The Ft. Reno concert series ends with an Ian MacKaye band playing - almost a decade ago the band was, allegedly, always Fugazi and, now, it is The Evens.
On Thursday, August 4th, I ate a sandwich at Sticky Fingers and joined the picnicking crowd at Ft. Reno. The road parallel to the park was lined this year by food trucks. My friend Matt tried to buy a vegan berry pie from the truck selling homemade pies, but, by the time he ambled over there, only sodas remained.
Laughing Man is a DC band that calls itself a punk-jazz hybrid. When my band The Aloners played with them in March at The Red Door, the size of the room pared the size of the band down to a traditional electric bass, guitar, and drums. The expanse of the Ft. Reno stage encouraged a literal row of brass players - trumpet, saxophone, and trombone - to join in. And don't forget the violinist and cellist. Their music flirts with a tonal center and instruments at times go off in their own seemingly improvisational path, although the path is actually planned and paved. A friend told me that they reminded him of the Minutemen, probably due to their obvious affection for jazz and their talent as musicians. They don't have either the jittery, angular progressions that mark The Minutemen or the obvious Gang of Four influence. Apparently, their album is going to come out on Dischord.
Ian MacKaye's strong personality comes through in the performances of The Evens, which is a minimalistic, drums and guitar duo. The Evens are at their most captivating when Amy Farina's soprano harmonizes with MacKaye's vocals on choruses. The PA, unfortunately, contributed an unwanted, persistent hiss to their music. MacKaye bantered easily with the crowd. For example, he asked people for feedback, they shouted, and he responded with a laugh: "I just wanted to make you feel a part of the show. I'm not actually going to do any of the things you are telling me to do." People sang along. No question hangs; The Evens engaged the crowd. The sun set and The Evens kept playing thanks to a couple of homey floor lamps with cream shades standing on stage. They created a sense of intimacy on an outdoor stage before a varied crowd of hundreds.
I don't want to look at the final Ft. Reno show of the year as a symbolic book end to the summer. I still need to go inter tubing or hiking. Of course, I sprained my ankle a few weeks ago and my current goal is just to walk down the street without limping.
On Thursday, August 4th, I ate a sandwich at Sticky Fingers and joined the picnicking crowd at Ft. Reno. The road parallel to the park was lined this year by food trucks. My friend Matt tried to buy a vegan berry pie from the truck selling homemade pies, but, by the time he ambled over there, only sodas remained.
Laughing Man is a DC band that calls itself a punk-jazz hybrid. When my band The Aloners played with them in March at The Red Door, the size of the room pared the size of the band down to a traditional electric bass, guitar, and drums. The expanse of the Ft. Reno stage encouraged a literal row of brass players - trumpet, saxophone, and trombone - to join in. And don't forget the violinist and cellist. Their music flirts with a tonal center and instruments at times go off in their own seemingly improvisational path, although the path is actually planned and paved. A friend told me that they reminded him of the Minutemen, probably due to their obvious affection for jazz and their talent as musicians. They don't have either the jittery, angular progressions that mark The Minutemen or the obvious Gang of Four influence. Apparently, their album is going to come out on Dischord.
Ian MacKaye's strong personality comes through in the performances of The Evens, which is a minimalistic, drums and guitar duo. The Evens are at their most captivating when Amy Farina's soprano harmonizes with MacKaye's vocals on choruses. The PA, unfortunately, contributed an unwanted, persistent hiss to their music. MacKaye bantered easily with the crowd. For example, he asked people for feedback, they shouted, and he responded with a laugh: "I just wanted to make you feel a part of the show. I'm not actually going to do any of the things you are telling me to do." People sang along. No question hangs; The Evens engaged the crowd. The sun set and The Evens kept playing thanks to a couple of homey floor lamps with cream shades standing on stage. They created a sense of intimacy on an outdoor stage before a varied crowd of hundreds.
I don't want to look at the final Ft. Reno show of the year as a symbolic book end to the summer. I still need to go inter tubing or hiking. Of course, I sprained my ankle a few weeks ago and my current goal is just to walk down the street without limping.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Starting off 2011
2011 - frustration. No, the details are not worth blogging about. I'll just sound like I'm reciting a bad Youth Crew song in which the lyrics center around violated trust. Over and over and over, though - when does forgiving someone for the same mistake amount to denial? Fearful symmetry. I see the good in my friends and want to see it in the world. Of course, I agree with Vaclav Havel: "Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out." Maybe sometimes I refuse to see the pattern in a person's behavior and to deduce how things will turn out.
OK I'm not keeping up with show reviews. A sentence or two about multiple shows amounts to essentially a list of band names without any worthwhile commentary. Still, the Integrity, Drop Dead, Haymaker show deserves a few written words. The Haymaker part was offensive in a proving-redneck-homophobic-sexist-jerks-can-be-from-Canada way. The singer shouted out homophobic comments while fans rallied, even hitting people around them with trash cans. As the singer took the mike, some random guy punched me on the top of my head. So weird. I turned around and yelled at him. Meanwhile, when I confronted him, the flying-fist guy went literally running out of the building, which surprised me. Drop Dead put on an intense, great show and Integrity was fun. Another weird moment between bands: I stood outside shaking in the cold with my friend Maureen while she drank a slurpie. Two odd guys from Canada got super intense about small talk. They were there to see Haymaker. As the show ended, I had fun talking with people in the car from Baltimore to DC. Late night, but it was all worth it.
Oh - Coke Bust finally had their record release show, which was reviewed in the paper - check it out. Vaccine, Direct Control, and Deep Sleep also played, all solid bands with no filler. The show started with the final performance of Rations. Like a special bonus, little girls swooned over Parsons, the singer, and asked him for his autograph. Despite their requests, he refused to hug them, noting that it would be creepy. And the Fire Marshall temporarily shut down the Hole in the Sky at the Sick Fix, Government Warning show. May the repairs happen quickly!
Final quote for the day: "Isn't it the moment of most profound doubt that gives birth to new certainties?"
OK I'm not keeping up with show reviews. A sentence or two about multiple shows amounts to essentially a list of band names without any worthwhile commentary. Still, the Integrity, Drop Dead, Haymaker show deserves a few written words. The Haymaker part was offensive in a proving-redneck-homophobic-sexist-jerks-can-be-from-Canada way. The singer shouted out homophobic comments while fans rallied, even hitting people around them with trash cans. As the singer took the mike, some random guy punched me on the top of my head. So weird. I turned around and yelled at him. Meanwhile, when I confronted him, the flying-fist guy went literally running out of the building, which surprised me. Drop Dead put on an intense, great show and Integrity was fun. Another weird moment between bands: I stood outside shaking in the cold with my friend Maureen while she drank a slurpie. Two odd guys from Canada got super intense about small talk. They were there to see Haymaker. As the show ended, I had fun talking with people in the car from Baltimore to DC. Late night, but it was all worth it.
Oh - Coke Bust finally had their record release show, which was reviewed in the paper - check it out. Vaccine, Direct Control, and Deep Sleep also played, all solid bands with no filler. The show started with the final performance of Rations. Like a special bonus, little girls swooned over Parsons, the singer, and asked him for his autograph. Despite their requests, he refused to hug them, noting that it would be creepy. And the Fire Marshall temporarily shut down the Hole in the Sky at the Sick Fix, Government Warning show. May the repairs happen quickly!
Final quote for the day: "Isn't it the moment of most profound doubt that gives birth to new certainties?"
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Hockey Winter Classic
I went to my friend Danae's house to watch the Winter Classic - the Pittsburgh Penguins versus the Washington, DC Capitals. No, I'm not a big sports fan, but I had fun trying to watch the game. First, Danae made amazing vegan vanilla cupcakes - and she's not even vegan. She made veggie dogs, pretzels, curry soup, sweet potato fries, fries with gravy, baked beans, and chili to top the hot dogs. She also had Oreos. Lots of food. Second, my friend Sarah handed out party favors. She made Capitals magnets. She got little hockey puck rings and noisemakers. Plus, she gave everyone red, shiny beaded necklaces. Third, Sarah and Danae decorated - a Winter Classic banner from a few years ago when the Caps won and shining blue lights all over the place. Unlike me, Sarah is obviously a die hard Caps and intense hockey fan.
Here is the "trying to watch the game" part: NBC coverage was terrible. The players moved on Danae's television screen like little, dark lines across a white rectangle and I had no idea of the location of the puck. Does anyone remember/heard of the game Pong? Ridiculous. The NBC camera crew seemed intent on providing wide-angle views. My friend Nick noted that he might as well have watched the game on Google Earth.
Anyway, the Capitals won 3-1. The hockey teams faced off in an outdoor rink and, toward the end, in a downpour. Fortunately, the rain pooling on top of the ice didn't injure any of the players.
As the Pittsburgh fans left the stadium, Kenny referred to it as a "walk of shame." They had to go down four levels of stairs to exit as they got wet from the January rain.
Pat posted something about the game on Facebook. His brother, Greg, happened to be on-line, evidenced by his decision to challenge Pat in a forceful, reprimand text. Pat grew up outside of Philly. His brother questioned Pat's seeming allegiance to the Caps.
Here is the "trying to watch the game" part: NBC coverage was terrible. The players moved on Danae's television screen like little, dark lines across a white rectangle and I had no idea of the location of the puck. Does anyone remember/heard of the game Pong? Ridiculous. The NBC camera crew seemed intent on providing wide-angle views. My friend Nick noted that he might as well have watched the game on Google Earth.
Anyway, the Capitals won 3-1. The hockey teams faced off in an outdoor rink and, toward the end, in a downpour. Fortunately, the rain pooling on top of the ice didn't injure any of the players.
As the Pittsburgh fans left the stadium, Kenny referred to it as a "walk of shame." They had to go down four levels of stairs to exit as they got wet from the January rain.
Pat posted something about the game on Facebook. His brother, Greg, happened to be on-line, evidenced by his decision to challenge Pat in a forceful, reprimand text. Pat grew up outside of Philly. His brother questioned Pat's seeming allegiance to the Caps.
Happy New Year
I spent New Year's Eve hearing bands play at a show at the Corpse Fortress. The show started with State Violence. And the theme: bands having slight problems. Zack's drum stand was being held together with masking tape and one of his cymbals was half gone. In the end, Zack is an amazing drummer and State Violence drew compliments.
Sacred Love from Baltimore played next with Joe Mitra as their new bassist. Technical difficulties. Joe's bass amp had problems, preventing him from playing beyond the first song. The second guitarist offered to play the bass line. Then, his equipment started having problems. Like some sort of bass curse. The singer joked that he'd be willing to continue on a cappella if the band's gear failed. No need - things moved forward smoothly; people got into hearing the band perform; all's well that ends well.
Troops of Tomorrow came on next with Gary Bird leaving the front door to sing in the basement. I must say that Gary really did a good job of collecting money from people. He showed persistence that I normally don't see, which I'm sure the touring band, No Class, appreciated.
Many people at the show were dressed up - ladies in sequins, Jake in a full-on suit with stripes. The Corpse Fortress basement was, as normal, dank and dark. The clothing made it easier for these swank-looking attendees to leave the show and go to the Clitfest benefit party, which called for formal attire. I don't drink alcohol and didn't feel like staying out later than the show, but I heard the Clitfest party turnout was great.
Sacred Love from Baltimore played next with Joe Mitra as their new bassist. Technical difficulties. Joe's bass amp had problems, preventing him from playing beyond the first song. The second guitarist offered to play the bass line. Then, his equipment started having problems. Like some sort of bass curse. The singer joked that he'd be willing to continue on a cappella if the band's gear failed. No need - things moved forward smoothly; people got into hearing the band perform; all's well that ends well.
Troops of Tomorrow came on next with Gary Bird leaving the front door to sing in the basement. I must say that Gary really did a good job of collecting money from people. He showed persistence that I normally don't see, which I'm sure the touring band, No Class, appreciated.
Many people at the show were dressed up - ladies in sequins, Jake in a full-on suit with stripes. The Corpse Fortress basement was, as normal, dank and dark. The clothing made it easier for these swank-looking attendees to leave the show and go to the Clitfest benefit party, which called for formal attire. I don't drink alcohol and didn't feel like staying out later than the show, but I heard the Clitfest party turnout was great.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Walking Dead Finale & Taco Leg, Karoshi, Lotus Fucker at Wasted Dream
Sunday, December 5th...
Feeling assaulted by the wind and starving, I entered Chipotle with Pat Vogel and Rob Santucci. The fast food restaurant in DC overflowed with people and the line depressed me. I was so cold that I stuttered as I thought about the wind and made no sense as I talked. Rob gave me an odd look, hoping that I would begin finishing my sentences with words that made sense.
From the Chipotle, we went to our friend Dan's house. His basement, when he hosts shows, is also known as Wasted Dream. Anyway, he offered not only to have Taco Leg from Australia play in his basement, but also to drive them around on their East Coast tour for a week. Taking him up on his offer, they seemed friendly and comfortable as they set up their merchandise on top of Dan's washer and dryer.
I enjoyed seeing Lotus Fucker. Dan sang their songs with intensity. I comfortably watched from his basement stairs as I ate my Chipotle. Pat's uneaten burrito sat in a bag on top of one of the amps as he played his guitar. The line at Chipotle made us a little late. (OK - we waited too long to hit the Chipotle...)
I didn't get into Taco Leg. They are a three-piece, melodic punk band who tend to play three-chord songs. I got bored listening to them. I like pop punk. I don't need every band to hit notes at a million miles a minute. I love singing along with Screeching Weasel, Jawbreaker and The Descendents. So much fun. Taco Leg, though, unlike those other bands, played meandering pop songs.
Pat and I left the show promptly to catch the season finale of Walking Dead. I had made ve
gan zombie-finger cookies to share, which were finger-shaped, shortbread cookies with raspberry jam instead of blood and almonds wiped with maple syrup instead of fingernails. Several friends gathered in Pat's living room and we settled in for the show.
Walking Dead is a television show based on a comic book series. The premiere's opening sequence reminded me of the opening of 28 Days Later, which both start off with a person waking up in a hospital unaware that a virus has transformed a good chunk of the population into aggressive,
flesh-eating zombies. The acting in the Walking Dead is decent and some character development occurs. The caste may be a little large, but maybe the zombies will whittle down the numbers in future episodes.
Feeling assaulted by the wind and starving, I entered Chipotle with Pat Vogel and Rob Santucci. The fast food restaurant in DC overflowed with people and the line depressed me. I was so cold that I stuttered as I thought about the wind and made no sense as I talked. Rob gave me an odd look, hoping that I would begin finishing my sentences with words that made sense.
From the Chipotle, we went to our friend Dan's house. His basement, when he hosts shows, is also known as Wasted Dream. Anyway, he offered not only to have Taco Leg from Australia play in his basement, but also to drive them around on their East Coast tour for a week. Taking him up on his offer, they seemed friendly and comfortable as they set up their merchandise on top of Dan's washer and dryer.
I enjoyed seeing Lotus Fucker. Dan sang their songs with intensity. I comfortably watched from his basement stairs as I ate my Chipotle. Pat's uneaten burrito sat in a bag on top of one of the amps as he played his guitar. The line at Chipotle made us a little late. (OK - we waited too long to hit the Chipotle...)
I didn't get into Taco Leg. They are a three-piece, melodic punk band who tend to play three-chord songs. I got bored listening to them. I like pop punk. I don't need every band to hit notes at a million miles a minute. I love singing along with Screeching Weasel, Jawbreaker and The Descendents. So much fun. Taco Leg, though, unlike those other bands, played meandering pop songs.
Pat and I left the show promptly to catch the season finale of Walking Dead. I had made ve
gan zombie-finger cookies to share, which were finger-shaped, shortbread cookies with raspberry jam instead of blood and almonds wiped with maple syrup instead of fingernails. Several friends gathered in Pat's living room and we settled in for the show.Walking Dead is a television show based on a comic book series. The premiere's opening sequence reminded me of the opening of 28 Days Later, which both start off with a person waking up in a hospital unaware that a virus has transformed a good chunk of the population into aggressive,
flesh-eating zombies. The acting in the Walking Dead is decent and some character development occurs. The caste may be a little large, but maybe the zombies will whittle down the numbers in future episodes.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Citizens Arrest
Last weekend, I got to hear a band play that I never thought I'd get to see perform: Citizens Arrest. They are a late 1980s, early 1990s hardcore band from New York City. I saw both Citizens Arrest sets in Philadelphia. So incredible. Their first weekend tour in around twenty years with all of the original members. Each musician in the band has skill and, while their music unfurls with speed and intensity, they also deliver hooks. The vocalist may growl, but his vehemence has purpose. His anger presents political lyrics protesting powerlessness and the abuse of power.
During the first set, I almost got knocked down a narrow, steep flight of concrete stairs near the stage. I landed hard a few inches from the edge of the first step, which seemed to freak out a group of people who picked me up and kept asking me if I was alright. Anyway, I didn't get hurt and I'm glad that I could see the stage, because watching Citizens Arrest play up close was inspiring - do I lose credibility calling a hardcore band "transcendent?"
Citizens Arrest made some jokes about a song being written about how hard it is to be in high school. They took all of their music seriously. They still have got it. Daryl Kahan forcefully belted out the lyrics with intensity and personality. I finger pick my bass. I loved watching Joseph Martin, the bassist for Citizens Arrest, finger pick his bass. He was playing so fast and his three fingers flew across his strings. His nimble fingers seemed to perform a dance and his dexterity achieved a sound that was downright amazing.
During their first show, Citizens Arrest did an SSD (a Boston hardcore band from the 1980s) cover. During their second show, Citizens Arrest did a cover of a Youth of Today (xNYHCx) song. Unfortunately, the guy who accepted the invitation to take over the mic got confused and had trouble remembering the lyrics. Otherwise, people seemed to be really getting into the music - singing and lunging to join in singing choruses. The second show in Philly had fewer people, but was probably even more fun for me than the first show. I was right next to the stage again, but in a pain-free spot. Plus, I enjoyed seeing Asshole Parade, who opened and played a great set. They flew up North from Florida for the weekend tour with Citizens Arrest. The members of Asshole Parade tried to convince me that they weren't experiencing temperature shock because of some wintry weather in Florida. (As I write this blog entry, it's snowing outside in DC, which is why I'm probably going off on a slight tangent about temperatures.) They said that the Citizens Arrest show in New York City was even better than the shows in Philadelphia.
Citizens Arrest did play a new song. Yes. It sounded forceful like their classic hardcore songs. Maybe that means another album or at least another 7"? Hmmmm...
I heard a rumor that Citizens Arrest may play a show in DC in March. I'll keep my fingers crossed.
During the first set, I almost got knocked down a narrow, steep flight of concrete stairs near the stage. I landed hard a few inches from the edge of the first step, which seemed to freak out a group of people who picked me up and kept asking me if I was alright. Anyway, I didn't get hurt and I'm glad that I could see the stage, because watching Citizens Arrest play up close was inspiring - do I lose credibility calling a hardcore band "transcendent?"
Citizens Arrest made some jokes about a song being written about how hard it is to be in high school. They took all of their music seriously. They still have got it. Daryl Kahan forcefully belted out the lyrics with intensity and personality. I finger pick my bass. I loved watching Joseph Martin, the bassist for Citizens Arrest, finger pick his bass. He was playing so fast and his three fingers flew across his strings. His nimble fingers seemed to perform a dance and his dexterity achieved a sound that was downright amazing.
During their first show, Citizens Arrest did an SSD (a Boston hardcore band from the 1980s) cover. During their second show, Citizens Arrest did a cover of a Youth of Today (xNYHCx) song. Unfortunately, the guy who accepted the invitation to take over the mic got confused and had trouble remembering the lyrics. Otherwise, people seemed to be really getting into the music - singing and lunging to join in singing choruses. The second show in Philly had fewer people, but was probably even more fun for me than the first show. I was right next to the stage again, but in a pain-free spot. Plus, I enjoyed seeing Asshole Parade, who opened and played a great set. They flew up North from Florida for the weekend tour with Citizens Arrest. The members of Asshole Parade tried to convince me that they weren't experiencing temperature shock because of some wintry weather in Florida. (As I write this blog entry, it's snowing outside in DC, which is why I'm probably going off on a slight tangent about temperatures.) They said that the Citizens Arrest show in New York City was even better than the shows in Philadelphia.
Citizens Arrest did play a new song. Yes. It sounded forceful like their classic hardcore songs. Maybe that means another album or at least another 7"? Hmmmm...
I heard a rumor that Citizens Arrest may play a show in DC in March. I'll keep my fingers crossed.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Government Issue, The Goons, Set to Explode
I walked up the stairs and toward the main stage as Set to Explode was setting up. The dark room made it difficult to spot friends and was packed with people. This show was truly a reunion show. All of the bands were from DC and all of them broke up several years ago.
Set to Explode played a spirited set. The singer, Dave Bird, joked that he's not used to playing on such a big stage after he tripped over one of the monitors, hurting himself so that blood ran down his neck. He reported that they only had six original songs and, then, the band played them all with heart. They also played a few cover songs with panache. Seriously. They covered Black Market Baby's "Drunk and Disorderly" with Boyd Farrell, Black Market Baby's singer, on vocals. So, cool. They also covered a few Marginal Man songs similarly with guests.
The Goons played a super long set. Their vocalist has a great voice that reminds me of Jello Biafra's voice. When I saw him singing for Nervous Impulse last month, someone actually called out for a Dead Kennedy's cover. Anyway, he seems to enjoy singing and the band sounded together. Nevertheless, I began to look at the time as they played and played and played. Again, people seemed to be getting into them and I did too. They are a fun band. At this show, though, they seemed set to play for all eternity.
Government Issue, hardcore veterans from DC who not only have an early 80s sound, but were actually playing in the early 80s, took the stage and everyone went wild. They started off strong with one of their more popular songs, "Teenager in a Box." It's probably my favorite GI song. I love their old stuff in particular. Anyway, John Stabb, the singer, handled the mike with energy and experience. The band sounded like, rather than a reunion show, they still played together regularly. Still, they too played a super long set. Headlining... maybe some people there hoped to hear every GI song. As the hours (literally) passed, the set got a little long for me, but I'm thrilled they returned to the stage and obviously were into the music. I heard once that Kevin Seconds said that no hardcore band should play beyond a half an hour. I disagree, but, at the same time, a three band show shouldn't last for over four hours... Still, when Government Issue played their last song, a cover of "These Boots are Made for Walking," I sang along, relishing the music and the moment.
Set to Explode played a spirited set. The singer, Dave Bird, joked that he's not used to playing on such a big stage after he tripped over one of the monitors, hurting himself so that blood ran down his neck. He reported that they only had six original songs and, then, the band played them all with heart. They also played a few cover songs with panache. Seriously. They covered Black Market Baby's "Drunk and Disorderly" with Boyd Farrell, Black Market Baby's singer, on vocals. So, cool. They also covered a few Marginal Man songs similarly with guests.
The Goons played a super long set. Their vocalist has a great voice that reminds me of Jello Biafra's voice. When I saw him singing for Nervous Impulse last month, someone actually called out for a Dead Kennedy's cover. Anyway, he seems to enjoy singing and the band sounded together. Nevertheless, I began to look at the time as they played and played and played. Again, people seemed to be getting into them and I did too. They are a fun band. At this show, though, they seemed set to play for all eternity.
Government Issue, hardcore veterans from DC who not only have an early 80s sound, but were actually playing in the early 80s, took the stage and everyone went wild. They started off strong with one of their more popular songs, "Teenager in a Box." It's probably my favorite GI song. I love their old stuff in particular. Anyway, John Stabb, the singer, handled the mike with energy and experience. The band sounded like, rather than a reunion show, they still played together regularly. Still, they too played a super long set. Headlining... maybe some people there hoped to hear every GI song. As the hours (literally) passed, the set got a little long for me, but I'm thrilled they returned to the stage and obviously were into the music. I heard once that Kevin Seconds said that no hardcore band should play beyond a half an hour. I disagree, but, at the same time, a three band show shouldn't last for over four hours... Still, when Government Issue played their last song, a cover of "These Boots are Made for Walking," I sang along, relishing the music and the moment.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Libyans, State Violence, Hot Mess
Slow to post - been so busy lately. Anyway, a show that is a definite highlight of the last month - Libyans, State Violence, Cell Graft, Gash and Hot Mess at the Hole in the Sky. Zack tried to record the whole thing and succeeded with Hot Mess and The Libyans.
OK... I got to Hole in the Sky late and missed Cell Graft, who are from Tampa, and Gash, from Philadelphia. They are nice guys and I heard they were great. Cell Graft was described as Assuck-style grindcore.
I like KC's voice in Hot Mess, which is a DC band that started playing shows this summer. They offer simple, fun, punk songs. They seem to be enjoying themselves and I hope to see them play again soon.
The Libyans are a punk band from Boston. They were touring after the release of their new album, A Common Place. They sounded amazing live. I love how Liz's vocals come across as forceful and aggressive, but still melodic. The bassist played some impressive, complex rhythms. The guitarist raced his fingers across his fretboard, producing a whirlwind of notes. Somehow, the band is catchy without sacrificing speed and intensity. To top things off at the show, they played a Descendent's cover. Very cool, in my opinion.
The Libyans spent the night at the Chill Factory and we talked some there after the show. Such friendly people. So open to eating vegan jumbo slice pizza from Duccini's.
Offbeat side note - one of the members of the Libyans posted an ad on Craigslist in which he pretended to be a ridiculously wealthy, shallow, self-involved misogynist looking for a girlfriend to wait on him as a maid and cook. He listed his interests as diamonds, stocks (I believe? - I should look at the book to verify that "interest.") and himself. He got a ton of responses. Some of the messages were written as applications with pictures and measurements. I read one message in which the girl promised him that her hair never gets messed up and that she knows how to dress for society functions. Other messages amounted to a pile of venom catapulted across computer screens in a Times New Roman format. One woman offered to yank the silver spoon from his ass. Also, I read several messages in which women cajoled him for placing too much emphasis on money, suggesting that he should try to get a woman to love him for who he is and not for his net worth. The guy put his original solicitation with all of the responses into a book and published it. The last I saw, the book adorned a coffee table at the Chill Factory. (Chris Moore goes on cleaning rampages, so I doubt the book will remain on the table long enough to collect dust. They have some big bookcases...)
OK... I got to Hole in the Sky late and missed Cell Graft, who are from Tampa, and Gash, from Philadelphia. They are nice guys and I heard they were great. Cell Graft was described as Assuck-style grindcore.
I like KC's voice in Hot Mess, which is a DC band that started playing shows this summer. They offer simple, fun, punk songs. They seem to be enjoying themselves and I hope to see them play again soon.
The Libyans are a punk band from Boston. They were touring after the release of their new album, A Common Place. They sounded amazing live. I love how Liz's vocals come across as forceful and aggressive, but still melodic. The bassist played some impressive, complex rhythms. The guitarist raced his fingers across his fretboard, producing a whirlwind of notes. Somehow, the band is catchy without sacrificing speed and intensity. To top things off at the show, they played a Descendent's cover. Very cool, in my opinion.
The Libyans spent the night at the Chill Factory and we talked some there after the show. Such friendly people. So open to eating vegan jumbo slice pizza from Duccini's.
Offbeat side note - one of the members of the Libyans posted an ad on Craigslist in which he pretended to be a ridiculously wealthy, shallow, self-involved misogynist looking for a girlfriend to wait on him as a maid and cook. He listed his interests as diamonds, stocks (I believe? - I should look at the book to verify that "interest.") and himself. He got a ton of responses. Some of the messages were written as applications with pictures and measurements. I read one message in which the girl promised him that her hair never gets messed up and that she knows how to dress for society functions. Other messages amounted to a pile of venom catapulted across computer screens in a Times New Roman format. One woman offered to yank the silver spoon from his ass. Also, I read several messages in which women cajoled him for placing too much emphasis on money, suggesting that he should try to get a woman to love him for who he is and not for his net worth. The guy put his original solicitation with all of the responses into a book and published it. The last I saw, the book adorned a coffee table at the Chill Factory. (Chris Moore goes on cleaning rampages, so I doubt the book will remain on the table long enough to collect dust. They have some big bookcases...)
Monday, December 6, 2010
Youth Brigade
On November 12, I went with Pat Vogel to hear Youth Brigade play at the Sidebar in Baltimore. Whoa ho ho ho ho ho. I haven't listened to Youth Brigade recently, but their sing-a-long lyrics came back to me when they started playing. Youth Brigade formed in 1980, which means that "youth" isn't the first word that jumps to mind when you see the band members take the stage. They are and have been emphasizing, however, that "youth" can be a state of mind - challenging the world, striving to educate yourself, and remaining energetic. They appear to be true believers in DIY and in working toward positive political and social change.
The Sidebar sold out. When Youth Brigade played "Sink with Kalifornija," I sang with a big chunk of the swaying and jumping crowd. I left feeling energized and lucky that I'd gotten to see an amazing, California, punk band that started playing 30 years ago. Wow.
The Sidebar sold out. When Youth Brigade played "Sink with Kalifornija," I sang with a big chunk of the swaying and jumping crowd. I left feeling energized and lucky that I'd gotten to see an amazing, California, punk band that started playing 30 years ago. Wow.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Rations & Hjertestop at La Casa - almost, but not quite, Coke Bust
On Thursday, I went to the Coke Bust record release show at La Casa. Coke Bust did not end up playing. The show started with Rations playing to a full house. As the band performed its final two songs, people jumped and sang along. Flinging his cast around, even Jason Toner paced across the mosh pit. (He was speeding down a hill on his bike a few weeks ago when someone hit him with a car door. The collision shattered the bones in his arm - a metal plate; I don't remember the exact details of his surgery.) No additional arm injuries for him.
Cop Stabber played and, bored, I retreated outside. I was talking with some friends while, near us, a drunk, homeless man laid on the sidewalk and a drugged-up, dirt-encrusted kid stumbled into clusters of people talking. A business on the block called the police. Mark Anderson from Positive Force, who acted as an envoy for the space, pled with the homeless man to accept help and go to a shelter. An expressionless officer stationed himself next to the homeless man and watched Mark try to convince the man to leave. Meanwhile, the drugged kid stared at his shoes and swayed slightly for several minutes before reeling over. A trouble seeker, who is banned from a few clubs in DC, told a police officer that the band playing was called Cop Stabber. The police went inside.
For the audience, it was probably surreal seeing cops enter while Cop Stabber played. I don't know their lyrics and was just glad that they hadn't started some anti-cop diatribe while the cops dealt with underage drunks, the drugged up kid, and the homeless man. One of the officers left La Casa pointing inside and saying that the band had a stupid name, but the guys were alright. The officer smiled and said that he shook the singer's hand.
Mark Anderson was flustered and someone important from La Casa had walked by, witnessing the chaos. I got the impression that the La Casa representative was angry to the point of prohibiting future shows in the spot. Mark broadcasted that the show must be over by 10:15 at the latest. The time was 9:40 and Hjertestop, from Denmark, and the headliner, Coke Bust had not played. Yes, Coke Bust are from DC, but it was their American record release. Chris' (the drummer's) mom had come to the show. She told me that she'd seen Chris' other band, Magrudergrind, but she'd never seen Coke Bust play.
Coke Bust yielded to Hjertestop, who played an absolutely amazing, tight set. I saw Hjertestop play last year (?) at WMUC with Government Warning and Sick Fix. Hjertestop lacked the flare and confidence of Government Warning. At the 2010 show, Hjertestop attained a better balance between the volume of the vocals and the instruments. Their songs channeled passion and they played with spirit. So worthwhile. I'm glad that at least Hjertestop played their amazing set before the clock stopped on the show.
Chris gave a brief speech before Hjertestop played, explaining how people need to respect show spaces more. He emphasized that underage drinking shuts shows down. He advised that it isn't about being straight-edge, but is about a duty to the community. Otherwise, bands won't have a place to play music. He told the crowd that he knows it's only a handful of people causing problems. The same people repeatedly. He complained that if those people insist on drinking, at the very least they could avoid swinging a beer bottle around in front of the venue with the subtlety of a runway flag drawing in the police. Even if the flamboyant drinkers are the minority, they can end shows for everyone. I heard Chris' mom telling Chris as I left La Casa that she was sad the one band had to play so long and that she didn't get to see Coke Bust play. Coke Bust, of course, will play again...
Cop Stabber played and, bored, I retreated outside. I was talking with some friends while, near us, a drunk, homeless man laid on the sidewalk and a drugged-up, dirt-encrusted kid stumbled into clusters of people talking. A business on the block called the police. Mark Anderson from Positive Force, who acted as an envoy for the space, pled with the homeless man to accept help and go to a shelter. An expressionless officer stationed himself next to the homeless man and watched Mark try to convince the man to leave. Meanwhile, the drugged kid stared at his shoes and swayed slightly for several minutes before reeling over. A trouble seeker, who is banned from a few clubs in DC, told a police officer that the band playing was called Cop Stabber. The police went inside.
For the audience, it was probably surreal seeing cops enter while Cop Stabber played. I don't know their lyrics and was just glad that they hadn't started some anti-cop diatribe while the cops dealt with underage drunks, the drugged up kid, and the homeless man. One of the officers left La Casa pointing inside and saying that the band had a stupid name, but the guys were alright. The officer smiled and said that he shook the singer's hand.
Mark Anderson was flustered and someone important from La Casa had walked by, witnessing the chaos. I got the impression that the La Casa representative was angry to the point of prohibiting future shows in the spot. Mark broadcasted that the show must be over by 10:15 at the latest. The time was 9:40 and Hjertestop, from Denmark, and the headliner, Coke Bust had not played. Yes, Coke Bust are from DC, but it was their American record release. Chris' (the drummer's) mom had come to the show. She told me that she'd seen Chris' other band, Magrudergrind, but she'd never seen Coke Bust play.
Coke Bust yielded to Hjertestop, who played an absolutely amazing, tight set. I saw Hjertestop play last year (?) at WMUC with Government Warning and Sick Fix. Hjertestop lacked the flare and confidence of Government Warning. At the 2010 show, Hjertestop attained a better balance between the volume of the vocals and the instruments. Their songs channeled passion and they played with spirit. So worthwhile. I'm glad that at least Hjertestop played their amazing set before the clock stopped on the show.
Chris gave a brief speech before Hjertestop played, explaining how people need to respect show spaces more. He emphasized that underage drinking shuts shows down. He advised that it isn't about being straight-edge, but is about a duty to the community. Otherwise, bands won't have a place to play music. He told the crowd that he knows it's only a handful of people causing problems. The same people repeatedly. He complained that if those people insist on drinking, at the very least they could avoid swinging a beer bottle around in front of the venue with the subtlety of a runway flag drawing in the police. Even if the flamboyant drinkers are the minority, they can end shows for everyone. I heard Chris' mom telling Chris as I left La Casa that she was sad the one band had to play so long and that she didn't get to see Coke Bust play. Coke Bust, of course, will play again...
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Just Wrote Lyrics
I wrote these lyrics for my new band with Pat, Joey, and Dan, although I don't know if Pat wants to sing them:
Song 1
When words reassuring
Song 1
When words reassuring
fall like iron
Crack the ground apart
underneath my feet
But maybe that just means
I need to find another place to take my stand
Shallow promises
Suggest compromises
A voice of honey, ice
and broken bottles
Take and make my own power
Song 2
Song 2
Relief like the battered silence
at the end of a storm
The story seems to end
but the book doesn't close
at the end of a storm
The story seems to end
but the book doesn't close
People living in tunnels
Children abused
Caste aside
The refused
But the chance exists
I will persist
An infinity of things that might be
I refuse to cower
dreams have power
even in a world with
parts so sour
An infinity of things that might be
Children abused
Caste aside
The refused
But the chance exists
I will persist
An infinity of things that might be
I refuse to cower
dreams have power
even in a world with
parts so sour
An infinity of things that might be
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Quick October
Fall is a busy time. I've seen several shows without writing a word about them. I loved the DOC and Shoppers show at La Casa. The singer for Shoppers, Meredith, is incredibly friendly and talkative. I spent a long time talking about everything from matryoshka dolls to food with her. At La Casa, the band had some problems with equipment and Meredith's voice was drowned out by the sound of the band's instruments. DOC has never sounded better. The heavy bass got into my bones. The acoustics at La Casa made DOC sound all the more intense.
This Saturday, I went to Youngblood Fest in Baltimore, Maryland. So many bands, so much youth-crew style music. The line-up: Iron Age, Lion of Judah, No Tolerance, Police & Thieves, Rival Mob, Brick, Sacred Love, Give, Mob Mentality, Stick Together, Noose, and Bad American. Plus, Vegan Treats sold whoopie sandwiches there - chocolate and peanut butter or pumpkin and cream. Delicious. Our friend Joey from Chicago, who plays drums for Noose, gave me and Pat a sticky bun that the Chicago group had gotten from Vegan Treats the night before. An amazing, gooey, pecan-covered treat.
I enjoyed listening to Noose who delivered fast and furious hardcore. The singer from Razor Fade catapulted toward the stage to sing along with a cover song and took over the microphone for a little while. Between songs, Noose's singer broke into a speech about being vegan and straight edge. He berated listeners that if they'd been in the scene for longer than a year and were still eating meat, he considers them weak or heartless. Pretty militant. When Stick Together played, the singer praised Noose's performance, while also commenting that he eats meat.
No Tolerance from Boston, Massachusetts were incredibly tight and their singer, Justin from Mind Eraser, has a strong voice. I heard them last year and they impressed me then. They stood out for me among all of the bands who played the fest. I hope to see them again.
After No Tolerance played, Pat and I got take-out food from One World, a vegan cafe and sandwich shop. We also picked up a couple of items for our friends. I ordered the vegetable jambalaya. Pat got the steak and cheese for himself and Brian Lam, who was playing drums for Mob Mentality. Jason Toner got the meatball sub. One World uses the popular Daiya cheese and their mock meat has a good texture in the sandwiches. The sausage in the jambalaya tasted like Yves Sweet Italian Veggie Sausage that I tend to avoid, because of its mushy texture and artificial flavor. Regardless, for jambalaya, I'd prefer a spicier sausage or chorizo.The vegetables were soggy, although the restaurant mixed in a nice array of peppers, tomato, corn and onions. We passed our friend Andy Norton as we were walking back to the show. He labeled the jambalaya as tasting like something he'd fish out of the frozen food section of the grocery store and the food generally from One World as bland. I love spicy food and he was being a little too harsh. I really do think the sandwiches look filling and the bite I had of Pat's steak and cheese was tasty.
Rival Mob did an unexpected Misfits cover of Where Eagles Dare, which was fun. I was shocked, though, when the singer acted like they'd just played an obscure song given the fact that you can purchase Misfits merchandise even from Hot Topic at your local mall.
We left right before Iron Age took the stage. We got to the show before the first band started playing at around 2:15 p.m. We got to my house at around 10:30 p.m.
Oh - one last thing - I bought an extra-small, hot pink, girl's t-shirt with the Youngblood Records logo. Pat coveted my shirt. He complained that Youngblood failed to make neon pink t-shirts in men's sizes. Heads up to what might happen if Pat takes charge of making shirts for one of the bands he is in...
This Saturday, I went to Youngblood Fest in Baltimore, Maryland. So many bands, so much youth-crew style music. The line-up: Iron Age, Lion of Judah, No Tolerance, Police & Thieves, Rival Mob, Brick, Sacred Love, Give, Mob Mentality, Stick Together, Noose, and Bad American. Plus, Vegan Treats sold whoopie sandwiches there - chocolate and peanut butter or pumpkin and cream. Delicious. Our friend Joey from Chicago, who plays drums for Noose, gave me and Pat a sticky bun that the Chicago group had gotten from Vegan Treats the night before. An amazing, gooey, pecan-covered treat.
I enjoyed listening to Noose who delivered fast and furious hardcore. The singer from Razor Fade catapulted toward the stage to sing along with a cover song and took over the microphone for a little while. Between songs, Noose's singer broke into a speech about being vegan and straight edge. He berated listeners that if they'd been in the scene for longer than a year and were still eating meat, he considers them weak or heartless. Pretty militant. When Stick Together played, the singer praised Noose's performance, while also commenting that he eats meat.
No Tolerance from Boston, Massachusetts were incredibly tight and their singer, Justin from Mind Eraser, has a strong voice. I heard them last year and they impressed me then. They stood out for me among all of the bands who played the fest. I hope to see them again.
After No Tolerance played, Pat and I got take-out food from One World, a vegan cafe and sandwich shop. We also picked up a couple of items for our friends. I ordered the vegetable jambalaya. Pat got the steak and cheese for himself and Brian Lam, who was playing drums for Mob Mentality. Jason Toner got the meatball sub. One World uses the popular Daiya cheese and their mock meat has a good texture in the sandwiches. The sausage in the jambalaya tasted like Yves Sweet Italian Veggie Sausage that I tend to avoid, because of its mushy texture and artificial flavor. Regardless, for jambalaya, I'd prefer a spicier sausage or chorizo.The vegetables were soggy, although the restaurant mixed in a nice array of peppers, tomato, corn and onions. We passed our friend Andy Norton as we were walking back to the show. He labeled the jambalaya as tasting like something he'd fish out of the frozen food section of the grocery store and the food generally from One World as bland. I love spicy food and he was being a little too harsh. I really do think the sandwiches look filling and the bite I had of Pat's steak and cheese was tasty.
Rival Mob did an unexpected Misfits cover of Where Eagles Dare, which was fun. I was shocked, though, when the singer acted like they'd just played an obscure song given the fact that you can purchase Misfits merchandise even from Hot Topic at your local mall.
We left right before Iron Age took the stage. We got to the show before the first band started playing at around 2:15 p.m. We got to my house at around 10:30 p.m.
Oh - one last thing - I bought an extra-small, hot pink, girl's t-shirt with the Youngblood Records logo. Pat coveted my shirt. He complained that Youngblood failed to make neon pink t-shirts in men's sizes. Heads up to what might happen if Pat takes charge of making shirts for one of the bands he is in...
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Drop Dead and Systematic Death in NYC at Europa
On Saturday, Pat, Rob, Dan, and I drove to New York City to see the Inmates (Ohio), Drop Dead (Rhode Island), and Systematic Death (Japan!) play at Europa.
We got to New York as the doors were opening for the show. We walked a few blocks from the venue to Pappacitas, a burrito place. I got a big, amazing burrito stuffed with beef seitan, soy cheese, black beans, salsa, and rice. Pappacitas took a long time filling our orders. Rob got his burrito first and had finished it before the rest of us got anything. Dan got his food next. Pat and I told them to leave and we'd catch up with them, since we knew that waiting would cause them to miss some of The Inmates' set.
The Inmates - By the time Pat and I finished with our food, The Inmates had played their last note. Apparently, Europa was hosting a Polish dance night after the show was done, which required everyone to adhere to a strict schedule. We did, however, see The Inmates at an after show. They unapologetically reminded people and informed newcomers that they'd used the word "faggot" at the beginning of the Europa show. Jerks.
Drop Dead - mowed people over with the force of their music. The singer yelled about how eating meat is murder and called those who eat the flesh of animals "blood mouths." Then, he complained that he felt sick from the flu and needed to keep the set short.
Systematic Death - systematically destroyed.
We got to New York as the doors were opening for the show. We walked a few blocks from the venue to Pappacitas, a burrito place. I got a big, amazing burrito stuffed with beef seitan, soy cheese, black beans, salsa, and rice. Pappacitas took a long time filling our orders. Rob got his burrito first and had finished it before the rest of us got anything. Dan got his food next. Pat and I told them to leave and we'd catch up with them, since we knew that waiting would cause them to miss some of The Inmates' set.
The Inmates - By the time Pat and I finished with our food, The Inmates had played their last note. Apparently, Europa was hosting a Polish dance night after the show was done, which required everyone to adhere to a strict schedule. We did, however, see The Inmates at an after show. They unapologetically reminded people and informed newcomers that they'd used the word "faggot" at the beginning of the Europa show. Jerks.
Drop Dead - mowed people over with the force of their music. The singer yelled about how eating meat is murder and called those who eat the flesh of animals "blood mouths." Then, he complained that he felt sick from the flu and needed to keep the set short.
Systematic Death - systematically destroyed.
Teun Voeten on "Tunnel People"
I rushed from work to Pat's house to Sticky Fingers where I gulped down a salad with mock pepper steak and ginger miso dressing. No friend was working there last night. Then, Pat and I jumped in my car and scrambled to the lecture by Teun Voeten at La Casa.
Teun Voeten is a journalist and photographer from the Netherlands who wrote a book called "Tunnel People." I've started, but not finished, reading it. In the mid-1990s, he spent five months living in the Amtrak railroad tunnels below New York City with the "tunnel dwellers." He said that he originally intended to do an objective, anthropological study, but ended up connecting and befriending the people he met in the dark, rat-infested underground. Voeten spoke with almost a nostalgic pride about his acceptance by the "tunnel community."
Ultimately, New York relocated the tunnel people. Project Renewal offered rehab, as well as vocational and educational programs. And New York stepped in with Section 8 housing. Voeten returned to subterranean Manhattan recently with some of his friends from the tunnel and found the place "eerily empty." So, his book may fall into the category of history, but gives a face to people who cannot afford housing.
Voeten said that he'd spoken to some college students in Virginia earlier in the day and that he was unsettled that none of them had heard of Spike Lee. He feels like young people in America are harder on people who are poor and addicted to cocaine or crack. He insists that business people on Wall Street use tons of cocaine, but the general public in America excuses them because of their wealth. He said that addiction is more understandable for the mentally ill or people without love or professional goals. He realizes crack may consume those in poverty and prevent them from rebuilding their lives, but he is angry that people judge them so harshly while the Wall Street tycoons retain respect.
While conceding that some of the tunnel people had mental health issues, Voeten focused on the ingenuity and independence of the dwellers. Bernard, a middle-aged veteran of the tunnels, kept spices and food sealed in metal boxes to prevent the rats from contaminating them. Every day, he rigorously collected cans for recycling money. Voeten still labels Bernard a "close friend." Voeten offhandedly added that Bernard sometimes fed cats, which frustrated several tunnel dwellers who wanted their cats to eat only tunnel rats. According to Voeten, many of the dwellers kept cats.
Voeten explained that the tunnel people regarded the tunnels as their homes. He said that many of them did not consider themselves homeless, because they had a place to go. How could they be vagrants if they slept in the same spot every night? They followed routines in the same neighborhoods, among the same people. Voeten said that some of the tunnel dwellers looked down their noses at the more nomadic and traditional homeless. The Tunnel dwellers considered themselves, according to Voeten, "the creme-de-la-creme of the displaced."
The lecture lasted for about an hour and a half. During the question-and-answer period, a disheveled, white man with a long, unkempt beard who was probably in his 50s stood up. He shouted at Voeten, asking him how how he felt about the room being filled with white people. The man flung his hands around, pointed at Mark Anderson from Positive Force who was leaning against a wall, and yelled: "And him. And him." Voeten responded that the lecture was open to the public and that he was just happy that some people showed up to listen to him. The man muttered about over-educated, white people and, then, added with a toothless smile that he liked listening because it was free, but was hoping for a movie instead. Then, he left. A woman complimented Voeten on his photography. Voeten seemed genuine and flattered that anyone was listening to him.
I'm still working through how I feel about Voeten's take on the tunnel people. As a public defender, I interact with so many clients with mental health issues. I often act partially as a social worker and try to help my homeless clients. I, of course, see them as real people with backstories. I worry, though, because living on the streets can jeopardize their safety, health, and sanity. A few years ago, I found a group home willing to take in my schizophrenic, homeless client. He refused to go, because he felt like I was sending him to a cult. He preferred to stay in the jail. It's important to feel like you have some control over your life. I recognize that moving into a group home or shelter may make an individual feel like s/he is giving up control and losing independence. Maybe even losing autonomy... But the insecurity of homelessness...
Teun Voeten is a journalist and photographer from the Netherlands who wrote a book called "Tunnel People." I've started, but not finished, reading it. In the mid-1990s, he spent five months living in the Amtrak railroad tunnels below New York City with the "tunnel dwellers." He said that he originally intended to do an objective, anthropological study, but ended up connecting and befriending the people he met in the dark, rat-infested underground. Voeten spoke with almost a nostalgic pride about his acceptance by the "tunnel community."
Ultimately, New York relocated the tunnel people. Project Renewal offered rehab, as well as vocational and educational programs. And New York stepped in with Section 8 housing. Voeten returned to subterranean Manhattan recently with some of his friends from the tunnel and found the place "eerily empty." So, his book may fall into the category of history, but gives a face to people who cannot afford housing.
Voeten said that he'd spoken to some college students in Virginia earlier in the day and that he was unsettled that none of them had heard of Spike Lee. He feels like young people in America are harder on people who are poor and addicted to cocaine or crack. He insists that business people on Wall Street use tons of cocaine, but the general public in America excuses them because of their wealth. He said that addiction is more understandable for the mentally ill or people without love or professional goals. He realizes crack may consume those in poverty and prevent them from rebuilding their lives, but he is angry that people judge them so harshly while the Wall Street tycoons retain respect.
While conceding that some of the tunnel people had mental health issues, Voeten focused on the ingenuity and independence of the dwellers. Bernard, a middle-aged veteran of the tunnels, kept spices and food sealed in metal boxes to prevent the rats from contaminating them. Every day, he rigorously collected cans for recycling money. Voeten still labels Bernard a "close friend." Voeten offhandedly added that Bernard sometimes fed cats, which frustrated several tunnel dwellers who wanted their cats to eat only tunnel rats. According to Voeten, many of the dwellers kept cats.
Voeten explained that the tunnel people regarded the tunnels as their homes. He said that many of them did not consider themselves homeless, because they had a place to go. How could they be vagrants if they slept in the same spot every night? They followed routines in the same neighborhoods, among the same people. Voeten said that some of the tunnel dwellers looked down their noses at the more nomadic and traditional homeless. The Tunnel dwellers considered themselves, according to Voeten, "the creme-de-la-creme of the displaced."
The lecture lasted for about an hour and a half. During the question-and-answer period, a disheveled, white man with a long, unkempt beard who was probably in his 50s stood up. He shouted at Voeten, asking him how how he felt about the room being filled with white people. The man flung his hands around, pointed at Mark Anderson from Positive Force who was leaning against a wall, and yelled: "And him. And him." Voeten responded that the lecture was open to the public and that he was just happy that some people showed up to listen to him. The man muttered about over-educated, white people and, then, added with a toothless smile that he liked listening because it was free, but was hoping for a movie instead. Then, he left. A woman complimented Voeten on his photography. Voeten seemed genuine and flattered that anyone was listening to him.
I'm still working through how I feel about Voeten's take on the tunnel people. As a public defender, I interact with so many clients with mental health issues. I often act partially as a social worker and try to help my homeless clients. I, of course, see them as real people with backstories. I worry, though, because living on the streets can jeopardize their safety, health, and sanity. A few years ago, I found a group home willing to take in my schizophrenic, homeless client. He refused to go, because he felt like I was sending him to a cult. He preferred to stay in the jail. It's important to feel like you have some control over your life. I recognize that moving into a group home or shelter may make an individual feel like s/he is giving up control and losing independence. Maybe even losing autonomy... But the insecurity of homelessness...
Monday, September 13, 2010
Lotus Fucker & Nukkehammer in Baltimore and DC
Lotus Fucker (DC), State Violence (DC/MD) and Nukkehammer (Columbus, OH) offered fast, loud, noisy sets in the basement of a house in Baltimore on September 10th. Meanwhile, upstairs, someone held a rave party. State Violence thundered through their set, sounding great. Then, the atmosphere in the room changed. As the Nukkehammer drummer hit his drums with artillery gun speed, a girl near me slowly rolled her hips and flailed her arms like she was trying to doggy paddle. Nukkehammer is going for that crusty, Swedish sound. While attempting to deliver some brutal punk, in Baltimore, they inspired folk-style gyrations .
When Lotus Fucker started playing, the lights went out. Their music boomed through the dark - extra loud given Pat's stack of amps that nearly touched the ceiling. Plus, a huge line of peddles layered on the distortion, which reinforced the sense of confusion in the pitch black room. A strobe light pulsed on and suddenly I discovered Dan, the Lotus Fucker singer, right in front of me. Giggling strangers nearby tore apart and, then, tossed glo sticks around. Green dots began to shine on my Rations shirt, my arm, and my leg. Christine, from State Violence, growled about glowing as she rubbed at the incandescent green and orange blotches on her skin. Movement in the strobe light appeared choppy and incoherent. I thought about seizures and stared at the chaos. Some girl tried to combine a hippy dance move, waiving her arms toward the ceiling as if she was trying to invoke rain, with a slam dance, bumping into people. The whole thing seemed surreal to me. Our friend Rob, who just moved here from New Jersey and went to Canada with Lotus Fucker last week, labeled it the best Lotus Fucker show ever. Dan seemed confused, pointing out that the band was much tighter in New York and the confusion with lights had thrown the band of in his opinion.
On Saturday, Lotus Fucker played in DC with Nukkehammer again. The show was in Dan's basement, which was hot and the audience was sparse. Sizzling bands, though. Lotus Fucker sounded much tighter and produced a true wall of sound. Nukkehammer seemed a little less like head on, brutal hardcore. The basement was hot and the crowd was thin. Dan, however, seemed annoyed that he kept seeing people walk by with cups from his kitchen. He asked: "Isn't it enough I'm letting them into my basement?" Jon, the drummer from Lotus Fucker responded: "OK, Dan. 'Dear HeartattaCk'." In the parking lot, some of Dan's neighbors danced in an open garage, participating in a Rhythm and Blues block party. I could hear The Temptations singing about sunshine on a cloudy day as I waited for Lotus Fucker to set up. I turned down invitations from them to form a dance line as I helped Lotus Fucker load up Pat's van.
PS I asked the drummer of Nukkehammer how to pronounce his band's name. He told me that it's a made up name, so I can pronounce it any way I like. He pronounces it "Nuke Hammer."
When Lotus Fucker started playing, the lights went out. Their music boomed through the dark - extra loud given Pat's stack of amps that nearly touched the ceiling. Plus, a huge line of peddles layered on the distortion, which reinforced the sense of confusion in the pitch black room. A strobe light pulsed on and suddenly I discovered Dan, the Lotus Fucker singer, right in front of me. Giggling strangers nearby tore apart and, then, tossed glo sticks around. Green dots began to shine on my Rations shirt, my arm, and my leg. Christine, from State Violence, growled about glowing as she rubbed at the incandescent green and orange blotches on her skin. Movement in the strobe light appeared choppy and incoherent. I thought about seizures and stared at the chaos. Some girl tried to combine a hippy dance move, waiving her arms toward the ceiling as if she was trying to invoke rain, with a slam dance, bumping into people. The whole thing seemed surreal to me. Our friend Rob, who just moved here from New Jersey and went to Canada with Lotus Fucker last week, labeled it the best Lotus Fucker show ever. Dan seemed confused, pointing out that the band was much tighter in New York and the confusion with lights had thrown the band of in his opinion.
On Saturday, Lotus Fucker played in DC with Nukkehammer again. The show was in Dan's basement, which was hot and the audience was sparse. Sizzling bands, though. Lotus Fucker sounded much tighter and produced a true wall of sound. Nukkehammer seemed a little less like head on, brutal hardcore. The basement was hot and the crowd was thin. Dan, however, seemed annoyed that he kept seeing people walk by with cups from his kitchen. He asked: "Isn't it enough I'm letting them into my basement?" Jon, the drummer from Lotus Fucker responded: "OK, Dan. 'Dear HeartattaCk'." In the parking lot, some of Dan's neighbors danced in an open garage, participating in a Rhythm and Blues block party. I could hear The Temptations singing about sunshine on a cloudy day as I waited for Lotus Fucker to set up. I turned down invitations from them to form a dance line as I helped Lotus Fucker load up Pat's van.
PS I asked the drummer of Nukkehammer how to pronounce his band's name. He told me that it's a made up name, so I can pronounce it any way I like. He pronounces it "Nuke Hammer."
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