Editor's note: Sometimes life flares up and prevents the work from getting done. This may seem dated but better late than never.
After several years of listening to records by the Screaming Females, I was finally able to cross paths with the band to see them live. In the past, countless scheduling conflicts had prevented me from being in the same room as them but I made sure to get myself to 123 Pleasant St, in Morgantown, on August 16, 2023.
The Screaming Females put out consistently solid records, album after album, so I knew they would be good but I had no idea they'd be that good. Holy shit. The band's rhythm section was completely locked in and were able to hold it down so Marissa Paternoster could go out on a limb with her guitar playing. At the end of every song I was stunned by what I was seeing. Mind blown. Face thoroughly melted.
After running around and taking pictures, I ended up sitting on a cement block that was standing on edge next to the stage door and behind the speaker stack so I was able to hide from the masses and still have a great vantage point to watch the show. It is rare that I get to see a band that is so dialed into what they're doing and as tight as the Screaming Females are that by the end of the night I was somehow a bigger a fan of the band than when I walked in.
Of the hundreds of pictures that I took during their set, the one above is my favorite from the night. I took it with my ancient iPhone and snapped it as soon as the camera opened up. Sometimes being in the right place at the right time is more important than anything.
All in all, it was another amazing night at 123 Pleasant St. I have never had a bad time there. The staff has always been cool and friendly and I get the honest sense that they are trying to build and maintain a scene there.
They always throw a local opener on the bill and those bands are always surprisingly good. This time around was no different. The band was called Stupid Head and they had a fuzzed out garage thing going on. It felt like they spent a lot of time listening to Ty Segall records and that's not a bad thing as far as I'm concerned.
Lung was the touring opener and they played the kind of weirdo rock music that I've been finding solace in lately. The band is from Cincinnati and consists of a drummer and an electric cello player.
The signal from the cello was split into two separate amps and pedal boards which made quite the unholy racket. The drummer from Lung had one of the more interesting kits that I've seen in a while. It looked like it was made from pieces of those toddler habitrail tubes from an indoor playground place. And since I didn't have to move it or put it in a van, I was an immediate fan of the drum kit's weirdness while equally perplexed over the logistics and practicality of the thing.
After the show I made sure to partake in my usual post-show breakfast ritual in the nearest Sheetz parking lot. That's something that I've done after every trip to 123 Pleasant St. I was able to contemplate the show and fall further down the hole of my own thoughts over coffee and a sandwich before the hour drive back north.
It was one of those nights that reinforced the reasons why I go to shows by myself to have these experiences and not to hang out with people. It felt like another human being would have ruined the evening.
As tired as I was the following day while I was rotting away at a desk, I'm glad I forced myself to take a road trip on a school night. It was so worth it. And honestly, fuck work. If I show up disheveled and out of my mind that's their problem.
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