Wednesday, February 27, 2019

The Tale Of Two Shows

     I managed to get out of the house on a school night on Tuesday, 2/19/2019.  I ventured out to the Mr. Smalls Theater to witness Bob Mould, one of my punk rock heroes, throw down.
     Due to the weather, instead of standing outside in the cold, I decided to check out the cafe that has been opened in the basement of the building.  After reading the menu board, I had intentions of ordering the impossible burger but was told that I was unable to do so because it was Tuesday.  I was then handed a cardboard menu with a few different taco-like items to choose from.  In all my life, I never thought that the words “Fuck taco Tuesday” would ever form in my brain.  At least the coffee still came in a cup instead of a tortilla.
     As I sat there waiting for two overpriced tofu tacos to be cooked up, two other people came in from the cold and ordered drinks.  They were a well dressed couple in their mid-fifties.  For whatever reason, the male decided that he needed to give the two employees a heaping pile of verbal shit.  I guess he thought he was cool because he was hanging out at a club on a school night waiting to see Bob Mould.  I don't know what his deal was and neither did his wife.  She was visibly embarrassed and kept her eyes focussed squarely on the bar in front of her and did not look up until they left.  I hope she knows that it's never too late to get a divorce.  Sadly, this guy was just a small taste of the dipshit buffet that I was about to encounter.
     The crowd could best be described as a pudgy, balding, white sausage fest.  For those who are worried that white guys are going extinct, you should have been at Mr. Smalls that night.  It was like this treasure trove of stupid called a meeting or something.
     By the time the venue filled up, everyone looked like a current day Billy Joel, Marc Maron or business casual douche.  Although, I did see one of the Tommy Lee look-a-likes from Howler's back in December.
     They all stopped to look at the soundboard like they'd know what to do with it.  I had never seen such a large collection of people that all thought that they were the smartest and funniest people in the room.
     Of course I got stuck next to the geniuses that were extolling the virtues of a Deep Purple cover band for well over fifteen minutes.  Luckily, the opening act, Murder For Girls, came out and was immediately let down by the sound guy.
     I had never seen a sound guy work so hard for such miserable results.  He was turning dials and moving faders but having absolutely no affect on what I was hearing.  It was almost as if the band was only allowed to use the mains for vocals.
     Through the duration of Murder For Girls' set, the Deep Purple cover band idiots wouldn't stop running their mouths and had their backs turned to the band.  Somehow they still applauded after each song.  I almost wanted to ask them what they were applauding since they hadn't shut up long enough to actually hear the band play.  Maybe they would have heard something they liked and learned something new that would take them beyond cover bands.  That's when I remembered that these hipster douchebags already knew everything and didn't need to hear a new band.
     Just as my patience was wearing thin, Bob Mould hit stage and almost shut these morons up.  I really couldn't tell what was happening on stage for the first five songs because one of these idiots kept leaning over right in front of me to try to read the sound engineer's set list.  His head was close enough to my face that I could have gone full Mike Tyson and bit his ear.  He finally walked around the barrier and pushed some other people out of the way in order to get a closer look at it.  I guess he was one of the growing ranks of people that thinks patience is not a virtue.
     From the looks of it, Bob Mould was full of energy and in fine voice but his guitar sound was very thin.  There was low end for days but the reason to go see Bob Mould is to hear him play guitar and there was not a bit of it in the mix.
     It was funny to see the difference between his reaction and that of the crowd when it came to the new songs versus the old songs.  He'd lean into the new material while the crowd kind of sat back, not really knowing what to do.  On the old songs, the crowd would go nuts but then Bob Mould would use those songs to almost take a breather and get ready for the next new song.  Realizing that he did have a crowd to serve while wanting to let loose on the new songs.
     Again, if it wasn't for other humans, I probably would have had a great time out of the house.  But that seems to be the great compromise these days.

*     *     *

     This past Sunday night (2/24/2019), I found myself at the Rex Theater to experience the mayhem that is the band Le Butcherettes.
     Sadly, I was among one of the few people in the area that had the same idea.  The crowd was small enough that it probably could have fit in my basement.  I'm sure if it were a Deep Purple cover band playing, the city would have come out in droves.  By the end of the night, the venue was barely at half capacity and those of us that did make the journey were given the great opportunity to witness one of the best bands that ever played music.
     Local band Dinosoul fought through a lack of sound in their monitors to turn in a great set.  Once I saw that the house engineer was the same disinterested sound guy from a now defunct club, I suddenly understood why they had such an uphill battle.  That guy was always too busy on his phone to figure out that the players in a band might need to hear each other through the monitors in order to play together.
     Dinosoul's sound is more fleshed out than the first time I heard them and now they seem to know what direction they want to head in with their post-punk darkness.  I will gladly add them to the list of bands that I will try to check out more frequently.
     Stars At Night were up next and holy shit were they a bunch of fun.  As soon as the singer said that they were from Los Angeles their approach made so much more sense to me.  The band had confidence, swagger and charisma for weeks so they were able to win the crowd over instantly.  And they definitely had a touch of the old school, pre-hardcore, LA punk influence in their sound.
     After a quick change over, singer Teri “Gender Bender” Suarez and Le Butcherettes hit the stage like Godzilla on Tokyo.  She could give Iggy Pop a run for his money for the title of most explosive singer in rock music.  Gender Bender's approach to performance is like that of a gleeful serial killer that would eat your face in a back alley while grinning from ear to ear the entire time.
     Their new album, bi/MENTAL, has been a daily listen since I got my grubby little hands on it and hearing the new songs live was a shock to the system.  “father/ELOHIM” was the stand out track on both the album and their live set.  That song is the perfect example of Le Butcherettes checking all of the boxes of what they do best.
     During “mother/HOLDS” there was a sudden screaming in the crowd.  It was the members of Stars At Night screaming along to the parts of the song that were handled on the album by punk rock legend Alice Bag.
     The current drummer in Le Butcherettes, Alejandra Robles-Luna, plays with such fury that she matches Teri Gender Bender hurricane to hurricane in order to hold it all together.  The way in which Robles-Luna attacked the song “Dress Off,” from Sin Sin Sin, was mesmerizing.  The bass player and guitar/synth player were doing their best to keep out of the way until the song was over.
     I was kicking myself for not taking my camera when I saw that there were a few other folks there taking pictures.  Instead I was stuck with taking shitty cellphone pictures the whole night.  It's a hard call to make when it's a ticketed show with a “promoter.”  I didn't feel like having some sort of altercation with the staff and end up having to walk the camera back to my car.  At least I was able to focus on the bands and not have to worry about getting enough shots in.  Maybe next time.




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