Yet another weekend of Rock

[The Bear Jew]

I bet you guys are tired of reading the saga of my music life, aren't you? Well, if you are, read no further. Go read about credit cards or the frickin' Taliban or something. I'm gonna write about this past weekend. So... Worked all day Friday (naturally). Came home. Kissed the wife. Ate a bagel. Hit a recording session at 7pm. Since all of my basslines are done (and PERFECTLY, I might add) for this project, I have been working to produce vocals and guitars for this band's singer. He's a little shy, passive-aggressive and touchy with his vocals, so I sometimes have to coax a performance out of him in order to get the songs to sound right. It's not always easy, but I am a patient man. For one song, I actually got him to run around the room for about 5 minutes so that he'd be less inhibited and sound more breathy. He hated the idea, but he tried it because I'm an insistent asshole. It was worth the 45 minutes it took to convince him to do it. Perfect for the song. I finally left the studio at 2am, three main vocal tracks done. Saturday, I woke up and cleaned the house a little, since my father-in-law was visiting with my wife's nephew. They arrived at noon, and I spent about three hours building little man's new slot-car racing set. Man, those things are fucking cool. I think he's leaving it at our house. Yay. Uncle Erik has a new toy.... I left around 3:30 pm in order to pick up our roadie and load the van for our show that night. Met the boys at 4pm, loaded the gear and hopped in the van -- four band members, a roadie and the drummer's girlfriend, who has recently taken an active interest in helping us carry gear and tune my guitars. She and our roadie make a cute pair. See, our roadie (Avy) is a 6' tall, busty black woman with purple and black braids from a shitty neighborhood here in Philly -- we call her "The Roadette." She can carry my entire guitar rig by herself, and she has been known to punch guys in the nose for starting nonsense in the pit. We also call her "The Pit Boss" and "Mama." On the other hand, our drummer's girlfriend, Megan, is a 5' tall, skinny white girl from the suburbs. These two are best friends now, and Avy immediately braided Megan's hair into cornrows (cute!), gave her a "ghetto name" (Menehneh') and taught her to talk like she's a [i]Jerry Springer Show[/i] guest (also cute... and funny as hell.) As we rolled into the Pocono Mountains here in Pennsylvania, I thought about our overall appearance: a dreadlocked Jew, a bald black man, a scruffy Sicilian, a spiky-haired Korean, an Amazon-sized black woman and a little blond suburban girl cruising in a giant purple van with a huge skull in the windshield. The folks out here ain't ready for this. 200 miles later, we hit town. It's a little place, which only swells to its full population when the local college is in session. During winter break (when the snow flies) the town's main inhabitants are surly locals and well-heeled ski enthusiasts. The area kids LIVE for the bimonthly (that's TWICE a month) independently produced shows at a small coffee house. These shows are a virtual cluster-fuck of musicality -- they usually cram between five and eight bands on the bill. The PA is always total shit, the bands are usually kids and things never, EVER start or end on time. It's the way independent, underground shows have run since the beginning of time, and it's probably the way they always will. We arrived at the club, parked, checked in with the promoter, a skinny, pimply punk kid named Joe, and watched some other kids struggle with the PA to no avail. Our singer, Fu (or Foofey, depending on our mood), decided to be a sport and help them out. He quickly surmised that the reason they had no signal from their mics was that all of their mic cables were bad. We let them use ours. All was good. The first band set up (slowly) and dicked around as the crowd started milling into the room. It's a pretty small place, and it gets hot in there mighty quickly. Since it was cold outside (about 25 degrees) the number of people combined with the small quarters helped create a steamy atmosphere of fogged windows and sweaty walls inside the club and a shocking blast of cold air blew into the room every time someone entered. Our peeps showed up. They're a real mish-mosh of small-town life -- poor kids from big families, wealthy kids from small families, kids with bad teeth and scrubby punk clothes, clean-cut kids headed for the army in a week. They all have one thing in common -- they're all sweet, wonderful people who absolutely love us and support us every chance they get. On this night, they were out in force -- 70+ of them, hanging out next to our van, laughing, hanging out, loving the moment and living in it. These are some of my favorite people in the world. Finally, after a failed Slayer cover ("Raining Blood" never sounded so lame), the shitty opening punk band was done. Time to load onto the stage and play. With the help of Avy and Megan, we were ready to rock in no time -- our lights were up, our banner hung, guitars tuned, mics set, amps revving... Long live rock! Walking up to my mic, I felt the electricity and anticipation of a really fucking good time... I grabbed the stand and said, "Welcome, welcome, welcome... We're your new favorite band. It's time to start the big, dumb fucking rock show." I turned my head slightly and looked at the boys, they gave me the nod. It was on. How to create an instant pit: take teen angst, frustrated sexuality, fanatical love for rock and mix it with an experienced hard rock band. Holy fuck. These kids DO NOT PLAY in the pit. They stayed with us for every song, bouncing, hopping, sweating, working just as hard to get off on the music as we were. Some of the more aloof punk rock kids who didn't know us hung back and hurled a few nasty comments at us from the back of the room. I don't think we're "punk" enough for some of them. Oooops. Sorry kids. I actually couldn't hear the taunt, but I heard Avy's response: "What did you say, you little fake-ass punk rock pussy? I KNOW you don't wanna come up here and say it again. Got something else clever to say, little man? I'll flatten your fuckin' mohawk and put a platform boot up your ass, you little fuck.... yeah, I thought so. That's right... walk away, pussy." Man, I love that chick. That's why she's our Roadette. She's such a lady. Some of the punk kids decided it would be a good idea to get in the pit with our crew. Now, our peeps are receptive to absolutely anyone who wants to bounce around and have a good time, but obnoxious pit behavior like overly wild flailing, punching or tackling won't be tolerated. Once again, Avy likes to help regulate the pit. So when a few violent punks started swinging wildly and hurting people in the pit, she was ready to step in. Before she could get close enough to do anything, a blond flash came flying into the pit, low and hard. Sure enough, it was Megan (or Menehneh', as she should properly be called now.) She nailed two of these kids at once in a flying tackle that could have gotten her a linebacker's gig with The Eagles on another day. You go, girl. The two kids hit the floor and were dragged out by five or six of their punk bretheren, who wisely decided to stay away from our pit after that. During one of our songs, my guitar suddenly stopped making sounds. "FUCK, what's this?" I thought. I quickly realised I had blown a fuse and turned off the juice to my power amp while fishing in a rack drawer for a new fuse. I popped out the old one in a quick, snappy movement while slipping in the new one at the same time and screwing the cap back on... total elapsed time: 10 seconds. Fastest fuse change EVER. After my quick repair, the rest of the set was a blur. next thing I knew, I was handing my guitar to Avy, and Megan was wrapping my cables and putting them in my small gig duffel. I put my rack covers back on and handed it to someone. I started rolling my cabinet to the door while scores of our crew pounded me on the back or hugged me. They always do that... as I rolled the cabinet, I lost a caster. It simply disintegrated. OK. That's a new one on me. I flipped the cab to pop out the other casters, and two more fell apart. Planned obsolescence, huh? I guess I need a new set now. I gave the ruined casters to some kid who looked at the crusty, filthy things like they were both talisman and trash. We loaded the van in the freezing cold, and I could see steam rising from our backs as our cabinets and drums found their way into their proper places. When the deed was done, I popped back inside to do a "stupid check" and get paid, since I had no desire to stick around and see the band comprising the same punks that Megan flattened in the pit. Fuck them. I got my money, thanked the promoter and told him we'd be in touch. Ten minutes later we were at the local diner, where one of the more enterprising members of our crew had reserved an entire room, "Ambio, party of 30?" Did I mention that we love these kids? Hijinks ensued -- creamers flew, sugar sprayed, salt shakers overturned, jokes flowed, memories were created, food eaten, faces washed. It was almost better than playing. The kids paid the bill. They wouldn't even let us leave the tip. We finally had to leave. Hugs. Kisses. Handshakes. Back in the van. 200 miles to home. Bleary eyes... In my door at 5am. Shower. Kiss the wife. Sleep. Awake at noon. Back to the studio... Home by 10pm. Sleep. Awake at 6:30 am. Day job... UGH. Why does this place exhaust me before I even walk in the door?

[Wow]

:wave:

[Botch.]

Fun times, Erik. We don't have a New Year's gig this year so it helps reading about yours. Could we borrow your roadies sometime? That would be SO much fun to have here in white-bread Utah! ;)

[Tedster]

I hope you're compiling all of these stories into a book. :D

[The Bear Jew]

Thanks, guys. I have some digital pics from this show. I'll post them somewhere soon. Botch, You might have a hard time getting our roadies to Utah, but once you get 'em there, they'll work cheap. Just make sure they get a lot of beef jerky, and you're golden. Tedster, Tom C. (the bass moderator man) said the same thing about compiling these little stories into a book. I dunno... Seems to me they're all kind of the same -- we came, we killed, we left. Would anyone wanna read that over and over again?

[Tom Capasso]

Well, we do. If somebody can sell me a calendar with 12 bass players, why not a book of your adventures?? In your own spirit, bite me. I'm collecting your posts. At some point we can either pull them together and use the material, or I'll change my name to Eric and you can lick my ...... For me, it's that I relate to parts of your stories (the glory of playing), and am continually surprised by other parts (the hardness of that life, mosh pits, etc.). I believe it's that double-edged reaction that keeps me coming back for more.... Thanks again Tom

[The Bear Jew]

Thanks, Tom. You're getting pretty good with the "bite me" stuff. Next you'll be flipping people the finger, hitting strangers with your bass and smashing city bus doors with your combat boots. We'll make a rocker out of you yet. Tell you what, Tom -- I'll keep writing 'em (and living 'em)... you compile 'em. When you think we have enough for something that vaguely resembles a book (or something like one), lemme know. We'll take a look and see if there's really anything there. [quote] For me, it's that I relate to parts of your stories (the glory of playing), and am continually surprised by other parts (the hardness of that life, mosh pits, etc.). I believe it's that double-edged reaction that keeps me coming back for more....[/quote]Is this stuff really suprising to you? I've lived this way for a long time, so it's all sort of "par for the course." I don't see it as being all that hard. We're all kind of rechargable human batteries to me -- I sleep, I recharge and go again. That doesn't seem hard, but my perspective is probably skewed. Mosh pits are just kids having fun. Just like little league, only the refs are sometimes cute suburban blond girls and inner-city black ghetto princesses. I DO love playing, though. I DO find it glorious. That's a constant. I see the little stories I write as a sort of catharsis and tension-reliever while I'm stuck in my boring day job. If you see a book here, fuck it, lets make a book.

[Chip McDonald]

[quote]Originally posted by CMDN: [b] Some of the more aloof punk rock kids who didn't know us hung back and hurled a few nasty comments at us from the back of the room. I don't think we're "punk" enough for some of them. [/b][/quote]Doesn't it get old to be around the punk attitude constantly? A lot of beligerent punks are just rednecks with Docs, it's not surprising there's a skinhead nazi problem. I couldn't handle that day in and day out, massed repressed negativity....

[The Bear Jew]

[quote] Doesn't it get old to be around the punk attitude constantly? A lot of beligerent punks are just rednecks with Docs, it's not surprising there's a skinhead nazi problem. I couldn't handle that day in and day out, massed repressed negativity... [/quote]Chip, Actually, a lot of the punk kids are really great. A huge number of the people who come to see us are total crust-punk or street-punk kids with green double mohawks, etc. Many of them are enlightened enough to know that being "punk" isn't about wearing the right Hot Topic uniform -- it's about independence and the DIY (do it yourself) spirit. They know where we're coming from, and a lot of them love us for it. We're all old punks anyway. We occaisonally get a few morons, but they usually turn out to be suburban poseurs with big trust funds who have a chip (no pun intended) on their shoulders about who's "punker" than who. They usually get schooled by someone. Not all of the skins we encounter are problematic -- some are "SHARPS" (Skin Heads Against Racism), and they're great. The racists usually stay away from shows advertised with pics of a band featuring ethnic types playing. And if they DID show up... well... I don't think they'd do very well against our crew.

[patrick_dont_fret]

[quote]Originally posted by Chip McDonald: [b] [quote]Originally posted by CMDN: [b] Some of the more aloof punk rock kids who didn't know us hung back and hurled a few nasty comments at us from the back of the room. I don't think we're "punk" enough for some of them. [/b][/quote]Doesn't it get old to be around the punk attitude constantly? A lot of beligerent punks are just rednecks with Docs, it's not surprising there's a skinhead nazi problem. I couldn't handle that day in and day out, massed repressed negativity....[/b][/quote]Do you think Widespread Panic gets sick of seeing thousands of the same dirty hippies at all of their shows? No, they live for the stuff. Seeing that many lighters flicking into that many different smoking apparati is surely exciting.

[Wewus432]

So you're having a lot of fun driving all over the United States infecting the minds of our young people. I'm on to you Eric. You won't be happy until the entire country is one huge satantic cult. I'm not stupid, I know what those symbols mean, I watched The Omen 50 times. I know who you are! Bite Me!

[Alndln]

[quote]Originally posted by CMDN: [b]compiling these little stories into a book. I dunno... Seems to me they're all kind of the same [/b][/quote]Your right. :bor:

[The Bear Jew]

Me from the stage... [img]http://http://www.picturetrail.com/gallery/view?p=999&gid=1470384&uid=823482&members=1[/img]

[The Bear Jew]

and one from the stage... [img]http://www.picturetrail.com/gallery/view?p=999&gid=1470384&uid=823482&members=1[/img] http://www.picturetrail.com/gallery/view?p=999&gid=1470384&uid=823482&members=1

[The Bear Jew]

and a few more... http://www.picturetrail.com/gallery/view?p=999&gid=1470384&uid=823482&members=1 You can clearly see Megan (blond girl in black leather jacket) and Avy (tall black chick with purple hair) in the group shot of kids outside. [img]http://www.picturetrail.com/gallery/view?p=999&gid=1470384&uid=823482&members=1[/img]

[The Bear Jew]

Oh yeah... Wewus, Don't be mad. You're invited to come infect the minds of the youth with me any time. And Mr. Lugosi, It's nice to have someone agree with me. Kiss kiss.

[alphajerk]

erik, come play my town sometime... it needs a good boot in the ass.

[The Bear Jew]

Alpha... We're SO there. Any good clubs in Asheville? We're headed your way in March, so lemme know.

[Wewus432]

There's a club in Charlotte that might be susceptible to your satantic rituals. Check this site- [url=http://www.tremontmusichall.com/index.html]Tremont Music Hall[/url] . Let me know if you get booked so I'll have time to dye my hair green. Here's another club in Charlotte that might be easier to get booked in [url=http://www.amossouthend.com/directions.html]Amos\' Southend[/url] . That's the club Khan played. He could tell you how it was.

[The Bear Jew]

Wow... thanks Wewus! Looks like a good room. Probably too nice for us, but I'll try 'em.

[Wewus432]

Well Hell, here's a link to most of the big clubs in Charlotte. Everybody get booked here and I might even come out and see you. [url=http://www.charlottelivemusic.com/live_music_venues.htm]Charlotte Live Music[/url]

[The Bear Jew]

You frickin' BETTER come to see us if we hit your town. If you don't.... I probably WILL bite you. Us Yankees got big teeth.

[Tedster]

[quote]Originally posted by CMDN: [b]You frickin' BETTER come to see us if we hit your town. If you don't.... I probably WILL bite you. Us Yankees got big teeth.[/b][/quote]When you all are ready for a REAAALLLY long road trip, book the Hurricane in Kansas City.

[Chip McDonald]

[quote]Originally posted by patrick_dont_fret: [b]Do you think Widespread Panic gets sick of seeing thousands of the same dirty hippies at all of their shows? [/b][/quote]The crowd at a Widespread show isn't exactly the same as, say, a Sick of it All show... (I don't even know if they're a band anymore... )

[Chip McDonald]

[quote]Originally posted by CMDN: [b]and one from the stage... [/b][/quote]It's funny, little punk clubs look the same all over - blown p.a. with a speaker missing and all... If you go further down there's two places here in Augusta you may want to look into: http://hellblinki.com/hangnail/ http://capricinema.cjb.net/ The Capri is all ages, mostly punky-nu-metal, the Hangnail a bar that is sort of "everything else" but has hardcore bands pretty regularly. I don't know who runs either place now, but they more or less had roots as places that look exactly like where your gig was at, so I would say it's probably a good fit...

[The Bear Jew]

Hey Chip.... Thanks for the contacts! Maybe we can hit Augusta in March, since we're headed south anyway. Yeah, we play a lot of places that look like that -- kinda scuzzy, and barely held together with duct tape but fun. We have our best shows in these places. To me, this is where the realy rocking happens. Bars are OK, but it seems like more folks are concerned about hooking up and getting drunk (not that there's anything wrong with that) than checking out music. BTW, Sick Of It All is still around. They actually "retired" a bunch of their old songs on their last tour. What a strange thing to do... You're quite right, Chip. The crowd at a Widespread Panic show has a whole other set of neuroses that probably don't crop up at hardcore shows. The bullshit is part of the whole underground music world. One way or another, every genre has its assholes and annoying people. Love it or leave it... That's what I think.