On the weekend of October 29th through October 31st, I got in the van with Submachine for their run of shows that were intended to acknowledge the band's 31st anniversary. After losing their 30th anniversary to the COVID shutdown last year, there was a definite need to make some noise this time around. And I am rather thankful that they have enough trust in me to invite me along for such things.
The pictures have been edited and the bruises have turned from purple to that unsettling yellowish color that always seems to linger under the skin. I still have to edit the audio from the second show and I'm waiting for Youtube to make a decision on the video from the same show because it got hit with a copyright claim for the band's cover of Fang's “The Money Will Roll Right In.” Thanks, Google.
The first show was on Friday 10/29 at Now That's Class, in Cleveland, OH. Things got interesting right off the bat as we were loading in. There was a guy behind the bar with a badge around his neck and a clipboard in his hands. The sight of the badge set off our collective cop radar and made us all curious as to what was going on. It turns out the guy was from the Health Department which then led to the question as to why the Health Department was doing an inspection at almost nine o'clock at night. The only time I've ever heard of the Health Department out past 5pm was when a club got busted by the Liquor Control Board for underaged drinking and they brought every other agency with them for a surprise inspection of the entire building.
From what the bartender said, the block where Now That's Class is located has been eyed for gentrification/redevelopment so if they can be flagged as a nuisance bar or get shut down for health code violations it would be easier for them to be forced out. Given the club's proximity to the waterfront, a large high rise filled with shitty apartments built for yuppies could fetch a decent amount of money with views of the water.
It sure didn't help matters that the owner of the bar was there during the inspection but was just about intoxicated beyond the ability to speak to be of any use. It was up to one of the bartenders to follow the inspector around with a piece of scrap paper and take notes of any infractions. Luckily, that was all of the unpleasantness for the evening and the rest of the show went off without a hitch.
I was unaware of any of the opening acts but they were a pleasant mix of genres. TV Drugs were up first and did not disappoint. They went off like a bomb of speed Punk and wasted no time. You can check them out here.
Muamin Collective was on second. They are a hip hop group that is local to Cleveland and give off a serious Yasiin Bey (aka Mos Def) vibe which was greatly appreciated. Muamin Collective was a much needed curveball on a four band bill to help break up the loudness of the night. Their music can be found here.
Kill The Hippies went on third and helped to keep the mood light. They played a sort of loud but upbeat Punk that reminded me of Bob Mould at times. Their album from 2014 can be found here.
Submachine took the stage for the first of three nights and killed it but a little more so than usual. Since I've been invited to practices over the past few months, I noticed that they seem to be digging a little deeper into the older material and the songs somehow started to sound meaner and more aggressive. Jeff, the guitar player, attributes this to the new pickups he installed on his flying V. The new pickups may be the cause but whatever it is, songs that I've heard repeatedly over the past few decades are stopping me in my tracks again. If this was going to be how they hit it all three nights, I was going to be in for a treat.
After load out and making our way back to the highway, the search for post show food began in earnest. We soon discovered that late night food options in the era of a pandemic are extremely limited and almost nonexistent. Signs on the highway would say that a place was open twenty-four hours but would be completely dark when we pulled into the parking lot. Such is life in this new world of staffing shortages. We ended up at the first rest stop on the Ohio Turnpike and got what we could from the convenience store since all of the fast food places were closed for the night.
And for future reference, if you ever find yourself in a situation where you walk into a 7-11 in the wee hours of the morning and the clerk shouts out, “I've got hamburgers up here,” do not under any circumstances purchase said hamburgers. Your continued hunger will be less disappointing than trying to choke down a mystery burger or so I've been told. The clerk was also peddling fruit pies that looked like the old Hostess fruit pies but weren't. Needless to say, I passed on the burgers and pies and went with one of the most depressing cups of coffee I've ever had. It was weak and flavorless but molten hot to the point of being undrinkable until we were almost home. Lesson learned for the next day's journey to Erie.
. . .
The following night (Saturday 10/30) was at Basement Transmissions, in Erie, PA. The last time I was at this club was in December of 2019 for Anti-Flag. It was the second to last show I went to in what I refer to as the “Before Times.” It's a large club with a full PA but without the large club pretense and overabundance of rules that some places have. Basement Transmissions is a very laid back venue and I have a great appreciation for that.
For the second night in a row Submachine was blessed with great openers. Massive Denial and the Tradesmen were great but Mala Sangre tore it up without question. They were a three piece that played Latinx-tinged Punk along the lines of Rancid but in a way that I found to be more enjoyable than Rancid. They had their merch packed up before I could grab any CDs but their music can be found here on Bandcamp.
The challenge of the evening was sound related. Yes, Basement Transmissions has a full PA but that PA is only as good as the sound engineer behind the board. We were informed that the drum monitor was not working and my first thought was, “Well, why isn't it?” In smaller venues, not having a monitor for the drummer isn't that big of a deal. Something can usually be worked out so the drummer can hear something on stage. But when it comes to larger venues with larger stages, the drum monitor becomes very important so the drummer can hear what's going on around them. All of the bands made it through but there was some griping from one drummer in particular.
It had been quite a while since I had heard Submachine through a full PA so I made sure to mark the occasion as best I could. I loaded up my road case with a video camera, a tripod, my trusty old mini disc recorder and every cable and adapter I could possibly need. In theory, this would have been a great opportunity to capture a live recording. Emphasis on the “in theory” part of the previous sentence. The sound engineer was a younger fellow who seemed to have an infatuation with low end frequencies.
After an initial listen to the audio from the mini disc, I could tell the kick drum mic was up at such a volume that it was distorted and made a constant flapping sound on the recording. I'll play around with it in more detail at some point to see if any of it is salvageable.
The video was its own comedy of errors. There was so much low end shaking the sound booth that the vibrations were making their way up the tripod and causing the camera's computer to go in and out of focus which resulted in a twenty-seven minute blur that kind of looked like Submachine. The audio from the video sounded alright through the speakers on my computer, while I was editing it. But when I ran it back through my stereo the camera's microphone was also picking up the vibrations and was completely blown out. “A” for effort, I guess.
On the other hand, Submachine and all of the other bands did sound good in the room so I guess I shouldn't complain too much. That's what the engineer was mixing for in the first place.
When Submachine hit stage, they were relentless and I was struck with a large amount of gratitude that I've been invited into their circle and I get to see them play as much as I do. Even though I can take pictures all throughout their set, I still try to stick close to the “first three songs and out” rule of taking pictures of live music. As soon as I feel like I've gotten my shots, I put the camera away so I can stand back and enjoy a band that I've been a fan of since I was in high school.
A weird thing did happen early on in their set. At one point, I looked around and the club had damn near emptied out. There really wasn't a vibe of “Fuck this band, I'm going home.” It had more of a “Well, it's getting late so we'd better retire for the evening” kind of feeling to it. It was getting on past midnight so I guess everyone had to get up early the next day to go to church or a swap meet or something.
Load out went smoothly due to there being steps on the side of the stage and a ramp from the side door to the parking lot. It's simple things like that that make the physical labor portion of these nights infinitely easier.
Any and all post show food concerns were immediately put to rest when the glowing red sign of a Sheetz was spotted just off the highway. The only down side was that we pulled into the parking lot just after two or three cars worth of post-Halloween party college students had filled the place and were drunkenly, and loudly, attempting to use the food ordering robots to little success.
The chosen costume theme of these youngsters was quite interesting. The boys were all in short shorts with hard hats and safety-green construction vests. The girls were all dressed in orange coveralls that had the arms tied at the waste and were wearing wife beaters. They also had numbers written on their shoulders with Sharpie. Hopefully this was some kind of Orange Is The New Black cosplay and not some other kind of statement which would more than likely be racist as all get out. We were near a middle of nowhere college town so I wouldn't be surprised if it were the latter.
. . .
Night three (Sunday 10/31) got off to bumpy start even before the sun went down. Sheer Terror was supposed to headline the show at the Rock Room but had to cancel due to a positive COVID test for someone in the band. That whittled the show down to two bands with the Illiterates as the opener and Submachine as the headliner.
This was the first time I had been back at the Rock Room since well before the pandemic had started. I think it was some time in October of 2019. Sadly, not a thing had changed in the place by way of improvements. They did paint over the graffiti that covered the wall along the back of the stage but that was about it.
I try to keep my time spent at the Rock Room to a minimum for several reasons so I'll only go there if it's for a band I really want to see or if I'm working the show. Given the lack of ventilation in the room and the fact that so few people were wearing masks, if there was a chance of me catching a break through case of COVID this was going to be it. Somehow I was able to stay out of the Polish Hill COVID cloud and was spared. Hooray for Science.
When the Illiterates hit stage, I was immediately impressed by that band. Out of my usual due diligence when a Pittsburgh band puts out record, I bought their LP when it came out back in March and gave it a quick listen but didn't spend much time with it. The following day I made sure to rectify that situation and gave it a few listens while starting the photo editing process. They are such a good band and should not be missed. The vinyl may be hard to come by but a download can be found here.
A few songs into their set, I had to change over from photographer to road crew to keep the Rock Room's rickety PA speakers from getting knocked over by the crowd. The weird thing is that of the ten shots I was able to take of the Illiterates, all ten were keepers. That has never happened to me before. Between musicians moving while they play and me not really knowing what I'm doing with a camera in my hands, there are a lot of pictures that don't work out and end up getting deleted.
Then for the third night in a row I had the privilege of seeing Submachine run over a room full of people. The proceedings did get off to a rough start. While I was trying relocate and adjust a mic stand, I ended up spilling a full plastic cup of whiskey all over the stage that was meant for Alex Submachine. I had almost made it an entire three days of shows without a blunder. It was one of those “if you're going to fuck up, then go ahead and fuck up in the most comical way possible” type of blunders. One of the legs from the tripod stand landed directly into the cup and took the cup with it. Luckily, Dusty Skullfest was able to eventually make his way to the bar and back with a replacement.
I was only able to fire off a few quick shots from the front of the stage before I had to go back behind the stage left speaker stack to keep it from falling over on Jeff while he was busy playing guitar. I was able to pull double duty and continue to get more pictures by keeping one hand on the speaker while pointing and shooting with the other.
And since I can't be in two places at once the stage right speakers did end up getting knocked over. Fortunately, Rickey, the other guitar player, was able to step out of the way before it landed on him.
There are times when I think that the crowd at the Rock Room is nothing but an exercise in why people can't have nice things. The PA equipment always takes a beating and I end up having to clean boozy drinks off of my camera when I get home. I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop and either the bar says it no longer wants to have shows there or the people that volunteer their time and equipment to make the shows happen stop answering their phones. At some point someone will come to the decision that it's just not worth the hassle and there will be one less place to play.
Load out was a frustrating mess which it usually is from the Rock Room. The broken glass and spilled drinks always makes things interesting when trying to pack up. Then there's the gauntlet of drunkards that must be run through to get the gear from the room where the bands play to the exit. They always seem to stare blankly at me while I'm carrying a bass drum or an amp and loudly saying, “Excuse me.” It somehow doesn't register in their brains that they are in the way. Almost as if I prefer to stand around in crowded bars while holding heavy objects for no reason.
The drunk girl that yelled in my general direction, “Why are you wearing a mask? I want to see your face,” almost caused me to lose my shit when I was walking back in for another armload of gear. “Because I don't want your COVID, you dumb fuck,” would have been an appropriate response in this instance but I pretended to not hear this, kept my head down and kept moving.
Once the van was loaded, I said my goodbyes, grabbed my backpack and split. After two nights of dealing with rather pleasant out of town crowds, the typical Pittsburgh crowd was wearing down my patience faster than usual so it was time for me to get away from humans as quickly as possible.
I can never tell if it's my antisocial tendencies or if the people in this town are generally a bunch of shitheads. I'm more often than not left with the very Clerks-like thought that shows in Pittsburgh would be great if it weren't for the people that go to them. We've got great bands but shit crowds. I don't know. I guess it might just be me and my distaste for people. That's why I always find it easy to stay home at times instead of making my way out to more shows.
I am glad that I dragged my carcass off of the couch for this three day run of shows. As much as I complain about the crowds in this town, I still had a blast. And, again, I'm thankful to Submachine for having the trust in me to take me out on the road with them.
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