Monday, April 28, 2008

High Dive-Fremont 4/26/08

So Saturday finds me at a free show at the High Dive, celebrating their 3 year anniversary. I wasn’t there for that special occasion, but to take a gander at the Heavy Hearts. Due to it being the said celebration, they booked a grip of bands:

Zach Harjo: pretty decent with a folk rock feel and xylophone player. Which is curious cause I was just saying the other day: “ya know, rock and roll is lacking in some serious xylophone man!’
Mark Mallman: holy fucking speed trip, this dude; Leopard jacket, big 80’s rock hair, playing, standing, smashing a keyboard; accompanied by a drummer and a set of prerecorded tracks. I was reminded of Tim Curry in Rocky Horror Picture Show. He sang like that, moved like that and fuck all, if we didn’t expect him to strip down into a matching leopard speedo. I suggest going to view him, if only for the sheer ‘holy crap, am I REALLY seeing this?’ factor.

(this=this? I'm just sayin..)

Holy Name Dropouts and The Cute Lepers=punk revival? Aside from the curly handle bar mustache worn by one of the band mates from TCL, the only thing I noticed during this two bad set was that I was sober and sobriety can be painfully boring.

The Heavy Hearts: which was the one band we were here to see thanks to a live performance on KEXP the previous day, was pretty kick ass. Lead, Denise Maupin killed it on guitar; she was seriously a treat to watch; a bundle of fucking energy and rock glory banging her head to and fro. Not trying to play favorites on her, the rest of the band was tight and sounded great as well and if my eyes didn’t deceive me, there were two basses battling for dominance.

(we totally silently bonded over tattoos, as we spied each other from accross the bar. Either that or she wanted to beat my ass-it was dark,I'm dense and she'd prolly win)

In my opinion, Punk Rock is alive and well my friends. Not that you were truly worried that it was gone, but for some of the older kids who grew up in the hey days of real punk rock- not this pussy shit they play on 40 radio with fuck tards running amok in girls pants, star tattoos, and urban outfitters bought tees…Not that I was a punker; I didn’t roll around with fucked up hair(at least not on purpose) safety pins through my nose, or home made clothing, I was of the more metal, new wave and classic rock junket(and sometimes, dare I share this horrid dirty little secret…NKOTB-GASP). I did have some that I gave liking to: Misfits, occasional Black Flag, Fugazi, NOFX, Descendants and the Vandals.

OH my and the people at this show?!!! Have mercy. Sometimes I wish I could attach my brain to a printer and download the mental pictures I take of some people…remember Rod Stewart in the late 70s early 80s? The ultra spiky mullet, tight pants, fancy jacket and pointy boots? Ok, so I spy with me little eye…a platinum rod crossed with punk; the result: Me giving the “did someone step in dogshit” face as I’m trying to hold back laughter in his presence



Anonymous said...

Funny that you should mention Rod Stewart. Recently, in Las Vegas, I was at one of those Casino bar/hooker oases when I heard "Da Ya Think I'm Sexy?" circa 1978 or so blaring over the sound system, prompting me to scream obnoxiously in a phoney scottish accent about the war and football and what shite it all is.

You know, the usual shit. Anyway, fast forward to 5am the next day, same bar, playlist must have looped because here I am, about to get my fash smashed in by a couple of walking NY stereotypes (think the hypothetical cast of "A Guide to Recognizing your Saints, ten years later: the series") simply because I asked one of their girlfriends if she liked animals -- and here comes this song again.

Now, I've been way the fuck out of it for too long and was shocked/appalled to see so many flip phones popping up among other bar patrons, ostensibly to record the impending violence.

I then pictured: me, on Youtube, getting my face punched, with that damned Rod Stewart song blaring in the background.

Fucking A' brilliant, lads, an nae mistake.

Turns out the two NY stereotypes weren't up for any sort of actual throwdown (one thing that sucks about being male is that there's all of this implicit pressure to stand one's ground, even when there would be zero upside to "winning" much less losing a bar fight), and the altercation disolved in a series of traded insults and mild groans of disappointment from the flip phone toting audience.

Red Headed Devil said...

seriously wicked. doubt i would've popped out the phone, but i definitely would've been a spectator.

great story. stop by anytime to share!!

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...