Well it’s that time of year again. As in the past, this is what I am submitting to the collective Santa of my friends, family, and benefactors. Tongue in cheek though. It’s a reminder to me (of things I want to buy) more than anything else. But if you are unshakably resolved to buy me something, at least now you’ll have a few ideas for things you know I’ll love. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s buying a gift out of perceived obligation knowing full well that I have no idea what the person wants or needs. What a waste for all parties involved, you know? I’m intrigued by Scroogenomics (summarized here), and particularly the idea of donation gift cards where you give a gift in the form of a donation of a specified amount to a charity of the recipient’s choosing. How perfect is that? We both meet our gift exchange obligations, and instead of either of us getting junk we won’t use, that money goes to a worthy cause. Seems ideal to me. I really hope that catches on. But until then…
If you’re curious, this list is a tradition I started a few years back. Although the recently re-vamped MySpace has broken all of my old links to my blog there, as well as destroyed all my formatting — which stresses me out too much to deal with right now — you can still view the previous years here: 2007, 2008, and 2009. I eventually got a lot of that stuff, but there’s also some great stuff on it that I have yet to get my hands on (like a belt buckle from Black Crow Arts, a bucket of IKB paint, or exclusive Wanderers merch from the insanely-expensive German site Rockabilly Rules). But I’m going to do my best to keep it new and exciting this year. Though I’m coveting far too much to leave any room for my traditional jokes (see previous years). So without further ado, my wish list for 2010, in no particular order:
Dirt Devil I have a vacuum I inherited from Jared when he moved over five years ago. Since then — I am embarrassed to admit — I have used it very rarely. It’s just a hassle to drag out, and I think it’s old and probably needs to be emptied, which I’ve never done. I need a convenient solution here to ease me into the idea of cleaning my carpets. What I’m imagining is a powerful but handheld vacuum like a strong Dirt Devil or Dustbuster. Something I can use to get the dust bunnies and cobwebs, powerful enough to do the floors, but easy to wield, manage, and empty. For I am very lazy. And for all my considerable powers and victories in life, I am relatively helpless when it comes to this stuff.
Johnny Marr’s Signature Fender Jaguar For over a year, there’s been chatter of Johnny Marr finally getting a signature guitar model. I’ve even read him talking about the specs. But it’s not on the market just yet. Though I wish it was going to be a Gibson or even a Ric, these days he’s playing Fender Jaguars. And Fender, as usual, is way more on the ball than Gibson. Unfortunately. But I’ll take what I can get. Do I already have a Jaguar? Yes. Do I need another one? Absolutely not. Am I gonna get one anyway because it has Johnny’s blessing? Of course I am.
Nile Rodgers Tablature I tried my best not to re-list anything I’ve mentioned in previous years, but this one bears repeating. It’s an awesome guitar tablature (sheet music) book covering the stylings of Nile Rodgers… but it can’t be bought in or even ordered from the U.S.! I need some international help on this one. Or if anyone knows how to get around the international restrictions, please clue me in!
Jewelry (Rose Gold, Lapis, Tumbaga) I’m not really a bling kinda guy, you know. I don’t wear necklaces or rings. But I’ve had a bracelet this last year that I’m really digging. And secretly I’m mesmerized by the pink hues of rose gold and the near orange gold color of tumbaga. And I’ve had a life-long obsession with dark blue lapis. Do they make chunky chain bracelets that use any of these materials? Or short of jewelry, what other useful item could I find that incorporates precious metals and stones? Ideas?
Navy Vinyl Jacket While we’re on the subject of fashion, my latest jacket obsession (which has lasted over a year now really), is the need for a dark navy blue pleather/vinyl jacket. I’m talking about the shade of blue that’s so dark that it’s almost black. I see leather jackets in this color every so often, mostly on women. Someone somewhere makes a non-leather jacket in my size in this unique color. I just wish I knew how to find them.
Seven Layer Caramel Cake A few months back, a coworker received a cake shipped all the way from the East Coast. I had a piece and almost passed out. This place Caroline’s Cakes will ship you a cake in ice so that it arrives here in California fresh and ready to eat. Their caramel cake has frosting that tastes like a See’s “Bordeaux” (which incidentally is another dynamite gift idea). If not for Christmas, this would also be a great birthday idea for me or for anyone whose birthday party I’m attending.
Buddhist Alarm Clock A couple years ago when I was in the thick of my battle with anxiety, I was desperately exploring ways to reduce stress in my life at every level. Trying to find ways to improve my mental health and sleep habits, as well as just getting to where I didn’t wake up every morning in a state of undefinable dread. Well those days are gone, but I still wonder about one of the options I never followed through with. You see, I wake up every morning, as I have for years, to the sounds of the local 80’s R&B station. Don’t ask me why. I honestly don’t know. But the idea of peacefully waking up each morning to the sounds of a gentle bell or harbor noises sounds magnificent. Assuming they’re powerful enough to rouse me from my notoriously deep torpor.
Demolition T-Shirt Though I’ve tried to curb my t-shirt habit this last year, one is still eating away at me. While going through my storage unit stuff recently, I came across a dozen or so WWF wrestling magazines from 1988 and 1989. I gave them to the only actual wrestler I know (Virgil), but not before I flipped through them for old time’s sake. In them, I saw ads for vintage WWF merch, including t-shirts for many of those classic wrestlers. Since then, I’ve desperately wanted a Demolition shirt. Why them? They were among my favorites when I was little, but also they’re just obscure enough that only a fan would recognize the shirt. The web is crawling with crappy bootleg shirts, but if Santa can find me a classy one in men’s XL, I will be one happy camper.
Mouse Rug It’s a mouse pad that’s designed to look like a little Persian rug, complete with fringe. Seriously, there’s a company dedicated to making these. Open sesame!
Monkey Island 1 & 2 “Special Edition” By and large, my days of playing video games are over. Frankly, I don’t know how people my age find the time! But there are a few from the past that hold a special place in my heart, and the Monkey Island series may well be at the top of that list. The music and just the whole mood of those first two games is hard to put into words. It was — at least for me — as magical as any movie experience has ever been. I want to live in that game. But we’re talking early 1990’s technology here. That is, until the last year when they released “Special Editions” of those first two games on PC, which include all new artwork and music… while still retaining the option to switch back to the “classic” mode. I must have this. And you must buy it for me. (As far as I can tell, they are only available via direct download. And they’re cheap!)
As of 2023, the original video I had here was gone. But I know it was some kind of Monkey Island Special Edition trailer. The new one I put here will give you the idea.
That’s the most exciting stuff, but as always, a sure winner is a 2011 wall calendar. I hang calendars on the wall at work, and I leave it up to my loved ones to choose what monthly pictures I’ll be staring at for the next year. So surprise me!
Despite my attempts to rid myself of excess “stuff” this year, somehow I ended up with an overflowing “want list.” So much so that I had to work hard to narrow it down to an even 10. (Plus the wall calendar which I guess makes 11, but never you mind!) Of course narrowing down means that there were some other things I strongly considered but ultimately rejected. If you care, these included:
Fireproof Safe I wanted this to store a backup hard drive so that in the event of a disaster, all my writing and pictures wouldn’t be lost. I guess it’s not a ridiculous investment, but at the end of the day, if I were to lose all that stuff… it would be tragic but maybe also liberating in some way. My life might take a new direction if I were free from that stuff. So I’ll continue to be careful, but I will leave some of it up to fate.
Professional Camera I like photography, but mostly I just like pictures of myself. I’m secretly jealous of the quality pictures my friends are able to take with their high-end digital cameras. There really is a shocking difference, and it shows. But I also know that I am way too lazy to carry one around and use it much. And I can’t exactly snap myself all the time. Maybe what I should have asked for is a full-time personal photographer with a professional camera.
Black Velvet Painting(s) What self-respecting rockabilly boy doesn’t like trashy exotica and kitschy art? I’m enamored by the gaudy black velvet paintings I see at bars, and I want some really sleazy ones for my place. But then, I’m not really into decorating that much. So this is more of a “someday when I buy a house” type wish, along with diner furniture, a giant Alex Ross heroic portrait of myself, etc.
Operation Shirt This actually would have easily made my top 10, but sadly I have such little hope of ever finding one that I didn’t even bother to officially include it. I’ve so desperately wanted this Operation design… long story short, the search for it is what first led me to Threadless where I’ve since bought tons of other shirts. But by the time I got there, production of this particular shirt had already ceased due to a lawsuit. If you ever find one in men’s XL on eBay or whatever, you buy it for me! You do it, Santa! You hear me? I will pay you back, whatever the cost. Best. Shirt. Ever.
The Lament Configuration Which is to say, the puzzle box from the Hellraiser movies. There are several companies that aim to make replicas, but I think I’ve found the best one. Of course I want the fancy model and a dome to display it, but perhaps I could settle for the Rubik’s version. Sure, it all looks cool, but it’s just another useless trinket. I mean realistically, where the hell would I put it?
So there you have it. As I said, I’m not really into gift exchange because of all the gray area. I don’t know what you want, you don’t know what I want (except I just told you), and we don’t know what we’re each spending on each other. Or even if we’re getting each other anything at all. Why put ourselves in that situation? I continue to advocate just sharing a meal for Christmas. Let’s carve out some time to catch up. That’s plenty of present for me this year. Well, that and Monkey Island.
Just by chance, today is Halloween and also Johnny Marr’s birthday. How many more reasons do you need to celebrate? More for the latter, it’s a good day to finally finish and post this. Enjoy! (Or suffer through, as the case may be.) Friday, November 12th, This Charming Band will be playing Café Du Nord to celebrate our anniversary. We’ll be joined by our old friends Depeche Mode tribute “For The Masses,” who played with us many times in those first couple years. I hope you can make it out to join us in reminiscing and reliving some fond memories. Come party like it’s 2006 (when we were ourselves pretending it was 1986).
November 16th, 2010 will mark five years to the day since This Charming Band first took the stage. As I look back on five years of my life, it seems like an appropriate time to sum things up, tell a few stories, and see what we’ve learned. You’ll have to forgive me if I get a little lofty or dramatic. What can I tell you? I take this stuff seriously. And apparently I have a lot to say about it. I don’t know how it will come off to you when you read it, but I just felt like telling some back story for anyone interested. And by the way, these are all my own thoughts and don’t necessarily reflect the feelings (or memories) of any other member of TCB, past or present.
The irony is not lost on me that we’ve now been around as long as The Smiths were, and that’s hard to accept. Should we be proud? Ashamed? I’m not sure. In those five years, TCB has gone from practicing acoustically in living rooms to headlining big venues all over the country and playing for hundreds of people at a time. Our intentions were pure. Our mission was simple. But we started in a city that — unlike Los Angeles — didn’t have the automatic audience of a huge “out” Smiths fanbase. We were going to have to carve out a niche for ourselves. We were going to have to twist some arms and play our balls off to make people pay attention. And to our amazement, it happened even sooner than we could have hoped. In our time together so far, we’ve played 101 official shows, along with some radio and acoustic appearances. Performed 67 of the Smiths’ 72 songs, as well as dozens of Morrissey solo numbers. Had two singers, two guitarists, five bassists, and one drummer. Visited seven states. Stayed in more hotels than I care to remember. With that many shows and almost as many road trips under out collective belt, there are more fond memories and inside jokes than I could ever hope to recount here. But I’ll do my best to give you as much as you could possibly want to know about This Charming Band.
A Brief History Of TCB
In April 2005, I happened to be looking on Craig’s List trying to find a band to join. I was settled in the city and finally felt ready to take on a musical project. I had never been in a band before, and there was so much I didn’t know. I wasn’t looking for a tribute band, but I must have been searching for “Smiths” to find a project I would fit in with. But when I saw an ad for a Smiths tribute band that was trying to start up, the wheels started turning. Why hadn’t I thought of that? I knew in my bones that this was something San Francisco desperately needed. I answered the ad and met up with Orlando. Originally he wanted to play guitar and get our local Moz-alike Tom to sing. But the way it worked out, Orlando decided to take a shot at fronting a band, and I took a shot at just being in one. After a couple of meetings at my apartment to run through a few songs I thought I knew how to play, we found a bassist in Wally. Super solid player, able to handle Andy Rourke’s craziness. Not to mention the most mature and level-headed member TCB has ever had, to this day. A few more living room sessions later, we started trying out drummers. No luck until Nick came along. I didn’t know it at the time — I was green after all — but Nick was a rare catch. A real pro, lots of experience, perfect time, and encyclopedic knowledge of pop music (and culture). Within a few weeks, we’d also unexpectedly picked up Isaac and Peter. Isaac being a trained pianist who gave us early renditions of “Asleep” and string sections where they were called for; Peter, a second guitarist who turned out to be the author of much of the internet tablature I’d been working from! We picked a band name, and it wasn’t long before the six of us were ready to take on the city…
Our second show was Popscene, a break which I gather is unheard of. From there we played some smaller pubs (like our home away from home Ireland’s 32) and some bigger places like (San Jose’s Blank Club). Even in those early days, we were fortunate to rarely have to open for anyone, or even share a bill with anyone. It was easy to get spoiled, and the boys kept telling me not to get used to it because this was not how things normally went for a band. I had nothing to compare it to, but I did my best to absorb the message. Of course we did (and do) occasionally open for bigger bands at bigger venues, but it makes sense in the tribute band pecking order. Zoo Station and Stung were good to us in those days, and we shared a lot of bigger bills with peers like For The Masses and Japanese Baby. In just that first year, there were so many adventures. Some unforgettable trips to SoCal. But by our year anniversary, Isaac had left to pursue jazz (keyboardin’ in a Smiths tribute is a strange gig) and Peter had bowed out too. This left us as a lean and mean four-piece band, and it left novice me alone to face Johnny Marr’s legacy. In December of 2006, we played our Brixton anniversary show, recreating the Smiths’ final concert song-for-song. It was my trial by fire to see if I could handle guitar duties alone. I was rough in those days, no question. I shudder to think what I sounded like. But in any event, we were forged as a foursome and never looked back. Just after Troubadour a month later, Wally and his voice of reason made their exit. He recommended Cameron to us. A nice guy and excellent bassist (who eventually went on to play with Rogue Wave). After his departure, we took on another bassist Dave for the remainder of 2007.
Now 2007 was an interesting year for us. By this time, we were coming into our own. Orlando was finding his feet when it came to really working the crowd, and he knew it. Nick was spreading his wings as a tenacious booker, getting us amazing shows and really building our success in a way that other tributes couldn’t match. Here we were, a tribute to the relatively obscure Smiths, and we were playing shows that tributes to world famous acts couldn’t get. I myself had played enough shows that I was gaining serious confidence. My playing was improving all the time, and it was even getting a bit old hat for me. We had a summer of great shows, venturing out to Vegas and Arizona and making a name for ourselves in Sacto and Fresno. We were getting our foot in the door at big time venues like House Of Blues and Bimbo’s 365. This was the year I started to feel like we were invincible. We weren’t.
As 2008 got rolling, Dave departed and Cameron came back for a short while. TCB had always had the occasional argument, but we started having some serious knock-down-drag-out fights around then. You’ll have to wait for the “Behind The Music” to hear any of that dirt from me, but suffice it to say that we all got into it with each other for different reasons many times. The cracks were starting to show. We were fortunate enough to find Paul when his Joy Division tribute opened for us at Café Du Nord in May. By July, he had cut his dreds and was playing with TCB and has been ever since. Great player, super nice guy, and a real positive energy that we needed to balance out my stone stage-face.
Just after Paul joined us, my nerves cracked. I barely made it through our August 2008 Slim’s show (our biggest headline in S.F. to date), and in fact we only played two more shows that year. Things gradually picked up in 2009, but we didn’t do any real travelling again until Portland and Seattle in May. By that time, we were back up to a good clip of shows, and hit a lot of our old stand-bys. Still bringing out fans locally. Still finding new hamlets to visit. The SoCal market had cooled considerably. Band fighting continued over 2009 and through the first half of 2010. Ultimately, this all culminated with Orlando’s departure following our 2010 Morrissey birthday show — clearly the most significant change to our lineup ever. We were left with original members Nick and myself, as well as our longest-running bassist Paul. We continue to search for our new frontman, but in the mean time we’re aided by Virgil, the excellent singer in San Diego’s Smiths tribute “Still Ill.” We’re less tense these days, and the chemistry is stable. And to my ears, we sound better than ever.
For all the shows we’ve played, the scores of hours spent promoting, and the thousands of people who’ve seen us, there are still many Smiths and Morrissey fans even here in San Francisco who’ve never heard of TCB. I meet them all the time. It’s just hard to get on their radar, I guess. And to be fair, I guess I never really thought about tribute bands either until I joined one. The “market” for tribute bands has ebbed and flowed in the last five years. At the moment, the economy is sucking air, and Morrissey isn’t touring. We’ve seen better times and worse. But as long as you guys keep coming to see us, we’ll keep doing our best to keep the flame alive for the songs that saved all our lives. This has been one of the most worthwhile things I’ve done in my life, and I’m so grateful for the opportunity each and every time I get to step on a stage and help play the music I love for the people who love it too.
Philosophy
Everyone has their own story, but for me, I can’t tell you what The Smiths and Morrissey meant to me. I didn’t grow up with them, but when I did discover them, I immersed myself almost to the exclusion of all other bands. But I thought I might be the only one. Living where I did and with no connections to hip crowds of any ilk, my only glimpses into other fans like myself were in dim gossamers on mysterious websites. The world of Smiths super fans seemed unreachable. It wasn’t until I found a kindred spirit in Jessica that I realized maybe I wasn’t the last of my species. She was from the O.C. and was hooked into that loose network of Smiths fandom. And from there, I was able to branch out further and further until I found my place (such as it is) in our small community.
I imagine a lot of Smiths fans have that experience. Feeling like they’re the only one. And if we’re being honest with ourselves, Smiths/Moz super fans are by and large a catty/skeptical/snobby bunch. We all feel like Morrissey somehow belongs to us a little bit more than anyone else. Like he’s somehow speaking to me more than the guy next to me, who happens to also have a pomp and dress like me, and knows all the words, and is also singing along. No no, somehow I’m the outsider and the insider, the one who really “gets” Moz. But the sense of community is still here, maybe partly because that mentality works on another level to make us all feel like brothers and sisters who love Moz together against the rest of the world who doesn’t.
The way I always saw it, TCB was a band of Smiths fans for Smiths fans. We wanted to help bring those outsiders together to find other outsiders like them. To help gather a community in San Francisco (which the Louder Than Bombs dance night was also doing around the same time). And even more, we wanted to try to demonstrate the fire that exists in this music when played live, to introduce the uninitiated folks (and those who never paid attention to The Smiths the first time around) to the best band that ever lived. And we wanted to do it respectfully and with class, so that long-time Smiths fans could relive some of the excitement of a live Smiths show. Quality control is always key with us. Put simply, “good enough” isn’t. We treat this music reverently. We’re working with a paying audience’s precious favorite songs, and we take that awesome responsibility seriously. I don’t mean to sound like a religious zealot, but it is kinda like that. You can still go see U2. You can still even go see Morrissey. If you want to go see them live, you can. But The Smiths are gone. And if you want to see them live, you need someone like us. In a way, I feel like TCB is a public service. Keeping a lost tradition alive and preaching the good word. Bringing the message to the people.
It was also important to be humble (yes even me!), at least with respect to keeping what we’re doing here in context. No matter how popular TCB has been or will be, what little notoriety there is to be had isn’t ours. We are not the stars of the show. The Smiths are the stars of the show. People are there to enjoy the music of The Smiths and share in a group experience of celebrating it with others. TCB is merely a vessel to try to make this happen. Do I have pride in the TCB and the job we do? Of course! But I always keep in mind that for the most part no one is there to see Benjamin. They’re there to see fake Johnny Marr, who just happens to be played by Benjamin. (Except maybe a few friends who are actually there to see me. :)) I have no illusions about the fact that we’re standing on the shoulders of giants here, and I only hope it’s clear that I got into it and stay with it for noble reasons. Would I be headlining Slim’s with some shitty little original project? Not bloody likely. We’re extremely fortunate to get to play to the crowds we do at the venues we do. It’s something a lot of bands never get to do, and we have The Smiths and their fans to thank. We only hope we’ve done justice to their memory.
Shows
Of course all of the rhetoric, practice, and promotion really just comes down to one thing: the shows. Behind the scenes, it’s arguing about the content and order of the set list. It’s showing up early and loading in, sound checking and dealing sometimes awesome sound guys and sometimes… not. It’s getting cleaned up and ready for the stage. Sitting in the green room and trying to mellow out. Watching the opening bands and monitoring the crowd. How’s the turn out? Are my friends here yet? It’s the lights going down and the intro music* playing. Nerves grabbing you, walking out to (hopefully) some cheers and an energetic crowd. Kicking into an upbeat number to start off, and a few more after that. Then taking it down a notch. Peppering in the deep cuts among the hits so we don’t lose the more casual fans. Ending the show with a few huge danceable songs, and then possibly a quiet ballad to send them home with. (The mix-tape approach to set list making, I guess?) It’s floodlights and flowers. A noose for “Panic” and a picket sign for “The Queen Is Dead.” It’s tambourines and maracas for the crowd. It’s a crowd-controlled Kaossilator for the bridge of “Suedehead.” It’s cupcakes for birthday shows. It’s two and a half hours of the band playing our asses off and Orlando connecting with the crowd. Saying we’re here for you, this isn’t our music, it’s all of our music, and this is your stage. A whole room dancing and singing together, throwing flowers, grabbing the mic, sweating, drinking, laughing and yes even crying. By the end of the night, people would be on stage dancing and singing along. If there was time, we’d do our best to take requests and keep playing until the club made us stop. We’d say hi to our friends, occasionally weather some drama or break up a fight. We’d sheepishly ignore the flower petals and stems that had exploded all over the stage. After packing up, we’d inevitably all end up with friends at a nearby Denny’s (or rarely, another 24 hour place), “This Charming Slam” being the preferred menu item. (This is a “Moons Over My Hammy” sans the hammy.) And then it was home or to the hotel. There you go, one exciting night in the life of TCB.
*Intro music is another tricky thing. We’ve done the Smiths’ own “Montagues And Capulets” as well as “Dance Of The Sugar Plumb Faeries.” We’ve done Elvis and nods like Twinkle’s original “Golden Lights.” We’ve done a relevant clip from the film “Rock Star” about tribute bands, and even Moz’s approved “Imperfect List” from the 2007 tour. We’ve even considered making our own imperfect list naming our own enemies, but oh well. My favorite was sadly botched during the last Slim’s show, but we may try it again next time: kicking off the show with the full movie clip that spawned “Take Me Back To Dear Old Blighty” and jumping directly into a live “The Queen Is Dead.” A clever and epic intro that we didn’t quite pull off. Doh!
I thought about doing a timeline of significant shows and moments in the band’s history, but I think that’s maybe too much. Instead, I’ll just mention some of my personal favorites. Our first show was definitely our most humble. A shared bill at El Rio that included a one-woman Huey Louis tribute called “Huey Louise,” as well as The Cock-Tees and a number of other questionable acts. Then was Popscene which was amazing, not to mention that Aaron, Omar, and Nako were great to us and we’ve gotten to work together many times since. I had seen The Cardigans and Loquat there the year before there, and to my suburban mind, Popscene was about the pinnacle of hip culture in S.F. It’s where I first heard Franz Ferdinand, The Postal Service, Pulp, and many others. Coming from where I had, to find myself on that stage was unreal. Ireland’s 32 was always one of my favorite places to play since it was so laid back. We made a lot of friends there, and in fact I believe that was the birth place of The Choir Boys — a lovable group of Bay Area Moz fans who have befriended and supported us over the years. Returning to Ireland’s 32 for my 30th birthday show in 2009 was such a great idea, and it’s among my favorite TCB shows ever. Going to SoCal that first time was probably my favorite road trip of all time. The first night, we got to play “Suedehead” with Alain Whyte himself! The second night was a massive 500+ person sell out at The Hully Gully (another of my favorite shows ever). The third night and introduced us to Club London at Boardner’s (my fave place to play down there) and to the famous Moz Krew — a lovable group of SoCal fans who have given us huge support and travelled all over to see us. San Jose’s Blank Club has been another home-away-from-home for us, and there are tons of great memories there with the South Bay’s amazing fans. I think my favorite show there has to be the St. (Steven) Patrick’s Day show we did, where the Moz Krew showed up in green Moz Krew shirts. They wanted “Sing Your Life” and our bassist didn’t know it. We improvised. The Troubadour was another big show for us, one of our first with top-notch lighting and sound. Plus so much history at that place… that was good times. Slim’s is the biggest place we headline in San Francisco, and of course that’s always a big event for us. With a crowd that size, it’s hard not to have a great show. And speaking of big crowds, I have no complaints about the few times we’ve been fortunate enough to play The House Of Blues. We got a huge crowd at that New Wave City show for the Brixton anniversary, which was another crazy night I’ll never forget. Playing out doors in Las Vegas was a great change of pace. And then surprisingly, Fresno’s Club Fred is among my favorite venues we ever get to play. The audience there is just as good as it gets in terms of love and energy. OK, that’s probably enough. There are just too many memories to mention. For a while, I was in the habit of trying to chronicle the details of these shows and trips in my old blog, but it’d take forever to get through it. You’ll have to check back on those yourself if you want the details.
As for me, remember this was my first band ever. So I was completely green starting out and had much to learn. I was terribly nervous before every show in the early days. My hands would shake and seize up, which isn’t helpful for live guitar playing. Chewing a toothpick, the blank face while playing, all of those aspects of my on-stage demeanor came from trying to zone out in an effort to calm my nerves. Doing my best to look cool as a cucumber even though inside the panic was raging. It was a good kind of nervous though, and of course in time it subsided almost completely. These days, those habits have stuck with me, so that even though I’m relaxed up there, I still end up looking disinterested or even angry. (I promise, I’m not!)
What else? I do my best to not wear the same shirt to a show ever if possible, or at least never to the same venue twice. Always a darker color so as to hide sweat. That’s all Sus’ influence. I know tee-shirts aren’t exactly dressy, but the hidden reason is that I need something with a smooth front (no buttons) so I don’t scratch up my guitars. That’s the real story behind it. Though in all these shows, I’ve gotten a few nicks and scratches on some of my most precious guitars (none my fault, sadly!). I even had someone accidentally break the head off of my #1 guitar earlier this year! Experiences like that, painful as they were, have helped me relax a little bit about damage to my gear. It’s just a fact of life I guess. Along the way, I sure received an education in equipment. You can see in the picture below (on the beloved Ireland’s 32 “raft” stage), I started out using a pair of turquoise Epiphone Casinos — which at the time I thought was a pretty slick signature look, ha ha! (The aforementioned danger of damage is exactly why you never see me with it these days… my remaining Casino took a beating and now it’s not allowed on stage anymore.) Over the years, I’ve tried many guitars, amps, and pedals as I’ve honed my sound. I’ve also improved my playing quite a bit (I hope), and become more comfortable on stage as I mentioned. It all came together in the end, didn’t it? What an arc from the nervous little me of 2005 to the veteran I am now, with monster tone and serious six-string expertise. Not. 🙂
In terms of theme shows, we’ve had a few. We’ve done “album” shows for The Smiths (eponymous), Meat Is Murder, and Strangeways, Here We Come. The idea always sounds good, but in practice, I think lots of people have trouble sitting through all the less popular album tracks. We did a rockabilly show where we played an entire set of all and only rockabilly-influenced Smiths and Morrissey tunes. We did a little acoustic show which included some different takes on songs (my favorite being our bossa nova Bigmouth immortalized here). My favorite theme show though has to be our December 2006 New Wave City event where we celebrated/mourned the 20th anniversary of The Smiths’ last ever concert at the Brixton Academy on 12/12/86; we played their exact set list from that night. There have also been some other themes we’ve kicked around but have yet to do, such as a chronological night that follows the history of the Smiths and Morrissey solo, hitting the high points and performed in chronological order. We thought about a live karaoke night where we have a bunch of songs ready and people from the crowd sign up and sing for or with us. We considered an outdoor “tribute-palooza” where we’d gather the best and brightest tributes we know to play an all day event maybe in Dolores Park or something. Could be free or supported by vendors maybe? Oh, and then there’s my secret plan to have a marathon of either a Fri/Sat/Sun night trio or a three consecutive weekend residency where we play one set of 24 songs each night, adding up to all 72 Smiths songs. Can you imagine playing The Smiths’ entire catalog live in one weekend? No? Too much? Some ideas are bigger than others.
We’ve had guest musicians to add cello here or keys there. We’ve brought back former members like Peter and Wally to join us for “reunion” shows. We’ve had merch on rare occasions, which is to say we’ve made large orders of green/pink shirts and later brown/orange shirts but been so lazy about selling them that over time we’d just give most of them away. The band and a few close friends also have limited edition black/white and black/pink shirts. Each had the TCB logo on the front and a different lyric on the back. But yeah, we were never really a merch band. Let’s see, we’ve raffled off a Morrissey painting from one of our flyers. Once upon a time, we’d meant to do a promo video to parody the video for “Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One Before.” We were all going to dress up in hats and glasses like Orlando and follow him around on bicycles. I think it would have been hilarious, but since he’s no longer with us, I don’t see that happening.
We have some massive shows these days, big sell outs, tons of fun. But I do sometimes miss some of the shows in the good old days. There seemed to be a golden era of tributes around 2006-2008 where people were discovering it for the first time and we could do no wrong. Things are different now. Could be the economy. Could be a reduced public interest in Morrissey for the moment. There is more competition for us out there. We can’t play L.A. without some other Smiths tribute playing the same night across town. Its’ all slowed down a bit. And I guess things aren’t as new to me as they were in that era. At that time, every show was such a brand new and mystical experience for me. Every show was prom night. Things are different now of course, but different isn’t always bad. Our mission remains the same, and I’m confident that we’re still helping to bring the Smiths to a new audience.
Friends
One of the most valuable things that has come out of This Charming Band is the amount of quality people we’ve met. My bandmates were new friends themselves, then I met their friends. And then every show we’d meet new people. All of them Smiths fans. I guess maybe that’s what being in a band is always like, but again I didn’t know that. It just seemed like I was meeting new people all the time which for a shy boy like me was quite a switch. This holds true even today, and I continue to marvel at what a great way it’s been to socialize.
I’m tempted to start listing off all the great friends I’ve made directly or indirectly from my relationship with TCB, and though it would include some of my closest friends to this day, I know I would inevitably forget dozens and then feel like a jerk. So my blanket statement is: you know who you are, and I’m glad that because of TCB or otherwise, you came into my life. Bay Area fans (including The Choir Boys), SoCal fans (including The Moz Krew), and everyone else… thank you!
But there are two people who require special mention. Sus and Shel came to our third show (at Edinburgh Castle, not one of our best), at which time I met Sus. Then our next show (at Blank Club) I met Shel officially. The two of them went on to attend nearly every one of our shows up through 2009, present at something like 78 of our first 80 shows (I forget the exact figure, but that’s not far off). One or both of them travelled with us to SoCal many times, Las Vegas, Scottsdale, Portland, Seattle, Reno, and more. It just doesn’t feel like a TCB show unless I look out and see them in the crowd. They’ve become two of my closest friends, above and beyond the endless support they’ve given to the band. Tireless advocates, helping us spread the word, bring people in, make travel arrangements, and even feed us. Sus has captured video of almost every song from every show we’ve ever played including nearly every video you see of us on YouTube. Shel’s photography skills have helped us capture so many moment on stage and off over the years and make up almost every picture you see on our website. (They’ve done all this for free.) There have been countless post-show Denny’s meals. And beyond just our band, there have been untold concert outings, movie outings, road trips, Morrissey shows, brunches… well, one paragraph isn’t nearly enough to chronicle all they’ve meant to me and to TCB over the years. They’re woven tightly into our history. Thank you both for all you’ve done and for being such a big part of my life these last five years.
Songs
I remember the second TCB show ever. We were at Popscene, a club which at the time intimidated me as it was. Add to that it was TCB’s second show ever. It was my second time on stage ever. And after having practiced all these songs with Peter on second guitar, for some reason he couldn’t make it, so I’d be playing alone. We took the stage, and I was plugging in my guitar, double checking my cables and all, and a couple of guys about my age came and stood directly in front of me. They crossed their arms and one of them said, “alright, let’s see it.”
That experience helped form and now sums up my attitude about playing the music of The Smiths. Most people are skeptical of tribute bands in general, and snobby Smiths fans especially so. If you play the guitar and you like The Smiths, then no doubt you’ve spent some time trying to work out a few of Johnny Marr’s tricks. And if you’re like most people, you eventually throw up your hands and give up. I did, several times. It’s hard and unusual music to figure out, and there are few guides out there to give you a starting point. And even those are mostly wrong it turns out. So with all this in mind, I try to imagine our audience. I think to myself, if I were out there, what would I be focusing on? And I realized that I’d be watching the guitarist and waiting to see how far he got learning before giving up. I’m sure the reality is there are maybe one or two guys in the crowd at any given TCB show that actually fall into this camp, but those are the guys that I’m personally trying to win over. Those are the guys whose respect I’m trying to earn. The guys who know guitar and know The Smiths, and know what it means to get this stuff right. The guys who inevitably aren’t expecting much from any Johnny faker, and instead get damn near the real deal. Or at least that’s what I’m shooting for.
I’ve spent more hours of my life than I care to admit analyzing Smiths songs and the guitar work of one Johnny Marr. Don’t get me wrong, every song was a labor of love. I won’t bore you with the process (which I discussed at length on Morrissey-Solo once, if you care), but I’ll just say that each song involves a lot of research in many areas (books, articles, interviews), as well as a lot of time spent poring over studio and live bootleg audio and video. We’re talking hours and days for some songs. All in the name of absolute accuracy. Friends have pointed out that unless you’re a guitarist and super fan, most of our audience isn’t going to be able to tell the difference between my 100% accurate version and some other band’s 85% accurate version. And that might be true. So then why bother with all those details if it’s lost on most of the crowd anyway? In short, because these songs deserve it, and because the details do matter. If I were in a tribute for virtually any other band, sure, who cares? But this is The Smiths. Every note is golden. The guitar work of Johnny Marr is like a magic spell. And if you want the spell to work right, you have to get every little word right. I still believe that even if the crowd at large can’t put their finger on it, the overall effect of TCB is more impactful because of that attention to detail. And I admit my ego is involved in this quest too. It’s important to me to feel like I’ve got these songs down. Not just “close enough,” but seriously note-for-note. That’s one of the few areas in my life where I have a competitive streak. I want to know that I’m doing my job here better than anyone. And if you think you know of a fake Johnny Marr in any other tribute band or YouTube video who’s more accurate than I am, I’d like to know about it. 🙂
At the time of me writing this, I have learned and deciphered (to my exacting standards) 70½ of the 72 Smiths songs and will probably finish off by the end of the year. I don’t know what I’ll do after that. My compulsion will be fulfilled. What then? Even though it was a huge time commitment, it’s made me a better player by leaps and bounds. Part of that is the playing regularly with the band, but most of it is all the technique and tricks that I’ve picked up from trying to be Johnny Marr. And this quest even led me to learn piano from scratch! In fact the only three songs I know on piano are Asleep, A Rush And A Push And The Land Is Ours, and Oscillate Wildly. And though I am completely untrained, I still strive (and hopefully achieve) note-for-note accuracy even on the ivories. Amazing, but true.
No discussion of learning Smiths songs would be complete without a tip of the hat to Peter, former guitarist with TCB. He is the only person I know who shares this Johnny accuracy madness with me, and that we happen to live in the same city is uncanny. I privately doubt there is anyone on the planet who knows some of this stuff better than Johnny, Peter, and I. (Damn, there’s that ego again. Sorry!) Over the years, we’ve traded hundreds of emails, phone calls, and face-to-face meetings to argue over open B’s vs. fretted B’s, and all other manner of minutiae concerning Smiths recordings. I bet Johnny himself didn’t give as much thought to some of his own slides and ghost notes as Peter and I have. Seriously, no compromises. Someday when I’m out of the tribute circuit and no longer consider them trade secrets, Peter and I will combine our notes and publish to the world our meticulous transcriptions. More often than not, whatever I’m playing was the result of a combined research effort by both of us, so he is due half the credit. Thanks for all the years of friendship and consultation, Peter!
It came at a price though. Learning and deconstructing Smiths songs to the extent I have is a little like looking behind the Wizard Of Oz’s curtain. Before TCB, I would listen to a Smiths song and, as a novice guitarist, be absolutely baffled by what I was hearing. My ears couldn’t make sense of it. It didn’t sound possible. It was this incomprehensible magic, right in my ear holes you understand. I don’t know what made me think I could ever recreate that. The ego of my 20’s I guess. But in time, little by little, I started to unravel those mysteries. In an effort to understand, and from a desperate desire to emulate, I dissected those songs in excruciating detail, one by one. And in the end, yeah I can play them. And I’m proud of that of course. But when I listen to a Smiths song now, I don’t hear it the way I used to. In the same way a magic trick isn’t the same after you know how it’s done. I still love those songs. I just appreciate them in a different way now. But sometimes I miss what it felt like to hear “This Charming Man” and want to just put down my guitar forever.
Actually, I should add to all of that — and Peter will attest — that in truth this is a never-ending journey. No one ever really knows every little part of a Smiths song completely. I don’t purport to have Johnny Marr all figured out by any stretch. There’s always a note or a part to refine and argue about. Until we can lock Johnny in a room and make him tell us all his secrets, there will be no shortage of work to be done learning Smiths songs.
Morrissey’s solo work was a different animal. With Johnny, after learning enough of his songs, I started to feel like I have gotten into his head a little bit. I kinda know some of his tricks and could anticipate certain things when learning a new song. But with Moz solo, there were so many different writers and guitarists to contend with. The music is less complicated and easier to work out, but it almost always requires two guitars to execute appropriately (as opposed to Smiths stuff where Johnny wrote guitar parts with a “one man orchestra” approach). I love Morrissey solo stuff too, and there have been some killer guitar parts no doubt, but it doesn’t always have the same magic of The Smiths. And in general, I was often less jazzed about the task of learning a new Moz tune than I would be taking on something new from The Smiths. Interestingly though, I found that dissecting and learning a Moz solo song would typically give me a whole new appreciation for it. I can’t tell you how many times I started loving a song only after I learned to play it. Contrast that with what I just said about The Smiths and killing the magic. But that’s how it goes.
On Being Clever
If you know me, you know how much I value cleverness above all else. That theme crops up at a few different points in this retrospective, but I wanted to focus here on just the music. I’m always pushing for ways we can do something special for each song, even if it’s something that only the most die-hard Smiths fans will pick up on. In general terms, it could be that the chorus was played slightly different on the album than it was on the Peel Session / Hatful Of Hollow version. So I might alternate, playing the “album” version the first chorus and the “Hatful” version on the second chorus. Little things like that to show that I’ve got all the bases covered. Sometimes we do the “live” versions of songs, and sometimes we stick to the studio. Usually the live version’s influence just shows up in how we intro and/or outro the song (too many of those to name), but there are tracks like The Draize Train, Meat Is Murder, and Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others where we pretty much just mimic the live version start to finish. We’d do the medleys The Smiths did like London / Miserable Lie, Rubber Ring / What She Said, His Latest Flame / Rusholme Ruffians, and even Ouija Board / November Spawned A Monster for Mozsolo. Then we also had some experimental medleys like throwing in Blondie’s “One Way Or Another” into the middle of Sweet And Tender Hooligan or Chic’s “Good Times” into Barbarism Begins At Home. We started and ended songs with the appropriate sound samples (the Salvation Army Band on Sheila Take A Bow, the animal cries on Meat Is Murder, etc.). And in case you missed them when we played, here are a few of the more obscure nods we’ve snuck in over the years:
Back To The Old House — This was always a hybrid of the studio, radio session, and live bootleg versions, all of which had significantly different picking patterns.
The Hand That Rocks The Cradle — We’d start off playing it straight like the album, but quickly jump in to the completely different original version from the Troy Tate sessions, which is rare even by Troy Tate bootleg standards.
Jeane — For a brief period of just a handful of live shows, Johnny played The Beatles’ “Day Tripper” riff in the bridge. I do that too.
Miserable Lie — During the Meat Is Murder tour, Johnny added a pretty little descending line to the intro. We do that too.
Pretty Girls Make Graves — We play the bouncier Troy Tate version, which is easier to find now but was still a rarity when we started playing it.
There Is A Light That Never Goes Out — On rare occasions, we’ve added the line “there’s a light in your eye and it never goes out,” which we got from an early demo version of this song where Morrissey was more explicit about its meaning.
There are other things we’ve intended to do, but haven’t gotten around to yet. The next time we play “Asleep,” I’ve got part of the original full sound clip that “you are sleeping; you do not want to believe” comes from, which should make a stellar intro. At some point I’d like to do the original intro to “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now.” Then there’s an extra verse in a long lost demo of “Paint A Vulgar Picture” that would be nice to slip in (as it explains the title of the song). When we get around to doing “Wonderful Woman,” it might be fun to perform it a few times with its original lyrics as “What Do You See In Him?” And given its genesis, “Panic” is just begging to have a few lines of “Metal Guru” added.
The old me would have been paranoid about our competition stealing these ideas (as they have others in the past), but at this point, I say fuck it. I don’t have anything to prove anymore. And if you’re a rival about to nick one of these ideas for your own band… well you and I both know where you got it, don’t we?
Flyers
Creating our flyers is work to be sure, but doing them is also one of my favorites on the (surprisingly long) list of “all the things you have to do to keep a band going other than just play music.” Between the logo and the flyers, I always felt like TCB had a recognizable brand. Clearly the main influence is the body of Smiths single and album covers. We’ve tried to glean some of the class and relative obscurity of those Morrissey-designed sleeves, choosing pictures that capture a poignant moment, using people that meant something to Morrissey or meant something to us. And there were subtle nods to those of you who looked deeper. Like a boxing Elvis for our big Troubadour show in the heart of our competition’s territory (here). The full image from Morrissey’s “Interlude” single for our show with a Siouxsie tribute (here). Morrissey’s original choice for “The Headmaster Ritual” single which graced our last Café Du Nord flyer (here). A quiet tribute to Dennis Hopper, using a picture he took himself, which you may also recognize from a certain singles compilation (here). For adjacent shows and mini-tours, we’d recolor the same image or use complimentary halves of one image, not unlike The Smiths did with their singles.
Somewhere along the line, I started including song lyrics which struck me as somehow fitting for each picture. Innocuous enough, but I’ll confess that they often doubled as vague statements about what was going on in my life at the time, or comments on memories associated with that city, or even occasional indirect missives to certain people I know. And on rare occasions, it was all three. In addition, I tried my best to never reuse the exact same color scheme on any flyer, and in 101 shows, I think I’ve succeeded so far. But show #102 is our five year anniversary, and so I specifically revived the colors from our first flyer. (Another subtlety that no one but me likely noticed or cared about, ha!) Anyway, I hope what we’ve ended up with is a style that’s aesthetically pleasing, decidedly “Smiths,” but also recognizably “us.” (And in fact we have seen that TCB style imitated — to put it lightly — on several occasions in other tribute bands’ flyers, websites, and artwork. But a great man once said “genius steals,” right?) In the last year or so, we’ve moved to a new format which is a little easier to work with, is more standardized, and leverages our full logo… but retains the essence of the early flyers.
Along the way, there have also been a number of guest flyers. In the early days, a handful were well done by Peter, in a similar Smiths-esque style. Nick’s brainchild was the Manchester / Sgt. Pepper tribute for our Rickshaw Stop show (here), which has too many sly references to list, but have a look. Can you name everyone and everything in that picture? Then for our big Slim’s shows the past few years, we’ve brought in such ringers as Jenny Wehrt and even R. Black (here) — which to me was just the coolest thing ever. I’d long been a big fan of concert poster art. I’ve got them hanging in my house. I’ve collected many books on the subject. But to see our band’s name on these professional flyers by a respected artist… little old us… well, it was one of the many “I never thought I’d be here” moments that color my whole experience with TCB. That artwork later adorned one of Nick’s bass drum heads, succeeding the previous TCB logo one.
Competition
When we were first starting out, we were aware of a few of the big Smiths tribute bands out there. We knew we were upstarts, but we had the idea that we could do a better job than what we’d seen. But the intent was always to be friendly with the “competition” since we all presumably have the same goal. There’s no reason to fight each other. Hell, we might even find ways to work together, or at least keep a positive relationship. We reached out on several occasions and got no response. And in time, we heard things. Smiths fandom is a small community, and we share a lot of the same friends. We work with the same bands, clubs, and bookers. The same fans that see and talk to them also see and talk to us. It became clear in no uncertain terms that we — and perhaps all newcomers — were not welcome by the competition. That there was a sense of entitlement that left no room for any other Smiths tributes in California. Aside from the issue of who the better band is, it’s just the attitude that kills me. I would (and have) happily befriended any other tribute out there doing their best, be they better or worse than TCB. But the attitude of entitlement when this music doesn’t “belong” to any of us, it boggles my mind. I can’t and won’t recount all of the peculiar run-ins we’ve had both directly and indirectly with a certain established tribute band to the south, but I feel confident in saying that in my experience they appear to be every bit the bores people paint them as. At least such fans as have not drank the proverbial Kool-Aid.
Now I’ve written and said much over the years on this topic. Often in searing indictments against other Smiths tributes that I feel take their audiences for granted, honor themselves above The Smiths, and generally fail to treat the music with the respect it deserves. Those that seem to see themselves as above their fans… instead of united among their fans in the greater love of The Smiths. I’ve long said that if I felt the existing tribute bands had been doing it right, I’d be going to their shows instead of playing my own. I guess I was always the militant member of TCB. Our ministry of defense, as it were. I wrote in many old blogs and Moz-Solo and its forums discussing various angles of my views on all of this stuff. It’s tempting, but I won’t try to dig them all up now, or even try to quote from them as I don’t know if I even really feel the same these days. But you can go find them if you’re interested. I think I made a pretty strong argument on those occasions. You can see, even here I couldn’t resist taking a few shots. I’m only human. But I’m also old and tired, and I care less about what people think. People are free to prefer the lesser band if they so choose. 🙂
TCB always tried to focus on the music and the shared experience with the audience. We didn’t get caught up in the dress up component, so there was no Morrissey drag involved. That aspect seems to be the main focus for some other bands, perhaps at the expense of the music. Some people liked that we didn’t dress up, that it gave us credibility and kept us from being silly. Others missed that aspect and thought we looked silly because we weren’t dressed up. Whatever our formula, it seemed to work for us. We were able to connect with fans in a way I would have never thought possible. From my perspective, it seems like we blazed some trails with respect to that audience participation, our attention to detail, even our flyers and website. Thanks to Nick, we’d travel to all corners. Towns and venues that no tributes played, we would go there and carve out an audience. We’d ferret out the Smiths fans hiding in the woodwork. And before long, other tribute bands (Smiths and otherwise) would start trying to get in there too. That must sound pretty pompous to make all these claims, but I’m just telling you what I saw. They’d try to force the crowd interaction that developed organically for us. They’d follow us to the venues we “discovered.” They’d try to devise their own artificial “army” in a Petri dish to match the Choir Boys and Moz Krew that just happened naturally at our shows (though those groups happened on their own and were not “ours”). Their guitarists would watch our hands. You get the picture. The old guard trying to co-opt the fresh ideas of new blood. I guess if nothing else, I think we made everyone up their game.
Final Thoughts
If you actually read this whole retrospective, bless you. I had no idea it would end up so long. Hope it was worth it. 🙂
TCB may have saved my life. Maybe that’s dramatic, but I think it’s true. Where I grew up, there wasn’t a scene of any sort, or at least none that I was hooked into. All the cool clubs and cool kids you all have grown up with… I mean, I liked good music I think, but I was pretty alone in my little world. I moved to San Francisco with my best friend, and didn’t branch out much. A year later, he left the country and I was facing a potentially lonely existence in a big city where I knew almost no one. That’s the exact moment TCB came into my life, and not only did it help to open me up, but it gave me an opportunity to meet a number of quality people with similar interests. Many of my closest friends have come from my relationship with this band. Without it, who knows how long this introvert would have lasted in S.F.? I may have moved back to the ‘burbs, never to be heard from again.
Being in a band is funny. I used to go see live music and the people on stage appeared to me as untouchable. I never thought I would ever get there. What magical creatures must these people be to be worthy of taking the stage and having all these people come to see them? Somehow in the last five years, I have ended up on the other side of that looking glass. It has its highs and lows and sacrifices. I’ve spent Saturday nights on stage at The House Of Blues, and I’ve spent Saturday nights at home with a guitar, a Smiths bootleg, and a notepad. And it’s changed the way I watch a show. I go see someone at The Fillmore and I look at them like a colleague more than anything else. They’re just people. They’re arguing about set lists and dealing with crappy sound guys and looking for water in a dirty green room just like me. So I guess it killed some of the magic for me there too, but that one I don’t mind.
Things I could have never imagined have happened to me directly or indirectly through TCB. I’ve gotten to play venues and even turn down (!) venues I used to see my heroes play at. I’ve seen Morrissey front and center, shaken his hand, been given his microphone, appeared in his video, and owned a shirt scrap. I’ve shaken Johnny Marr’s own hand, stolen his pick, and accused him of making his songs too hard. I’ve played a song on stage with Alain Whyte and met Boz Boorer in a casino after a show. Hung out a bit with Gary Day. A recording I played on appears on a CD you can buy at Amazon and Amoeba alike (which reminds me, somewhere there is an mp3 of 3/4 beat “sea shanty” outtake version of TCB doing “Hand In Glove” which you will probably never get to hear). Anyway, I don’t mean all that as a bunch of name-dropping or bragging at all, but I want to illustrate the stark contrast. In just over five years, I went from being a secret Smiths fan who felt more or less alone in that, to joining a community I never knew existed and meeting heroes that may as well have been unicorns to me before. So whatever magic I may have lost along the way, I got back in spades. I became, in my own awkward way, one of the cool kids.
I’ve got so many wonderful memories of playing shows, hanging out with the band, travelling, and making great friends. It’s an absolute honor to play this music, and I can’t thank enough all of you who made it possible… bandmates past and present, friends who supported us every step of the way, and most of all the fans who love this music as much as we do and have found our efforts worthy of their time and money for the past five years. The queen is dead. Long live The Smiths.
Another quick check in, kids. I keep getting behind on writing here, and then you just get a theme-less mass update about a bunch of random stuff. Sorry about that. Could it be that I’m just running out of steam on this thing? Wouldn’t that be something.
There have been a few great shows lately, such as The Drums at The Independent, which also introduced me to Surfer Blood. Then I hit a couple stops on the indie-bands-I-really-liked-in-the-mid-2000’s-but-never-got-around-to-seeing-live tour, including Arcade Fire at The Greek in Berkeley and Interpol at the new Fox Theater in Oakland… both great shows!
Other than that, I continue to sort through my living room full of storage unit clutter. It’s taking longer than expected, but I’ve also found some unexpected treasures. I’ll write about all that when I’m done with it all. Let’s see… I got my first “24 hour bug” which resulted in me being completely bed-ridden for a full day, too weak to eat or drink. Then it was almost completely gone the next day. Very strange. Oh, and I attended one of the more interesting weddings I’ve ever been to. Held at the DNA Lounge, the wedding of Sparkly and Bones was more a theatrical and produced nuptial even than I was expecting. It was not unlike a Hubba Hubba Revue, but with cake. Fun stuff, and huzzah for the happy couple! My attendance (as well as Nick’s and Charlene’s) was immortalized in the upstairs photo-booth run by John Adams:
This Charming Band had a pair of central California shows this last weekend. A road trip with the boys, who were all obsessed with quoting “Gimme Pizza” all weekend. First, it was out to sweltering Bako, and later Zingo’s truck stop for dinner. Again, we stayed in the swanky Padre Hotel, and for whatever reason, this time I got much less of a “Jersey Shore of the West” vibe from it. Then it was off to tropical Fresno, where not only did we get to play our beloved Club Fred, but we also made the traditional pilgrimage to Claim Jumper. Not to mention dinner at the highly-recommended New Stars vegetarian restaurant. I had orange “chicken” for the first time since going vegetarian, and it was delish! Along with several other items we shared. I hear they’re moving to Davis though, so beware! Something else too… during that long drive on Highway 99, I kinda found myself wanting to road trip along there for a few days and stay in a bunch of those creepy roadside motels. Is that weird? My whole thing is just that whenever I’m out in that rural area, I wonder what it would be like to live in one of those farmland hovels on the side of the road or even in one of the nice ranch houses. What is that life like? I think those Bates Motels and spending several days in the middle of nowhere is as close as I’ll ever get. Anyone care to join?
TCB’s five year anniversary show is coming up on 11/12, and I definitely have some thoughts to share on the last five years with this band. It’s coming soon, I promise. Until next time…
“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle.”
Well, not like it’s actually dead. And I’m not exactly the first person to assert it, but I realize now that I have almost no communication on there anymore. Aside from my cool list of favorites, several pictures I don’t want to re-add on Facebook, the beautifully designed layout that I did myself, all my old blog entries, and the ability to add background music to your profile… I don’t even know why I keep it up at all.
Let’s remember, MySpace was the shit for many years. It’s still pretty good but for that it’s almost entirely deserted. Whenever I log in, I just see dozens of updates from the same two friends who are at all active on there anymore. The rest of my friends’ profiles are all but abandoned. A graveyard of snapshots of what everyone was up to in early 2009. I don’t get how these things happen. I remember Jessica showing me Orange County’s “Make Out Club” site, which was the earliest social networking site I can think of, and that was back in 2001. Then a few years later, it was Friendster, and everyone was bugging me to join that, which I did. Then MySpace came along, and I went whole-hog into it. Made friends, found friends, started blogging, and posted tons of stuff about myself that no one but me could possibly care about. It was a cool community though and a stellar way to promote a band. All my “cool” friends were junkies just like me. This was 2005 – 2007, mainly.
How it came to be that MySpace was strictly for hipsters and teens, while Facebook came along and suddenly it was acceptable for grama to join, I’ll never know. But what is clear is that however it happened, Friendster and MySpace fell behind, and Facebook became the chosen platform for everyone from all walks of life to jump into the social networking pool. Seems so arbitrary to me. Facebook is king of the hill now, but what new site will come along and eat its lunch just like it did to MySpace, or MySpace to Friendster before that? Clearly Facebook is the biggest yet, and it’s more important to people than its predecessors were — it’s replaced email in many ways. I’m not sure it’s way better than the others necessarily. It’s just here till the next thing comes along.
According to Wiki, MySpace launched in August 2003, just over seven years ago. I myself joined on 7/4/04 for my AOL(!) friend Frenchy. I don’t know how much longer I’ll bother logging in at all, or if I’ll ever take the time to fully retire it (although damn, I gotta find a way to save off those old blogs). But its days are numbered. As pathetic as it is to admit, MySpace is owed credit for being an important part of my social life for a few years there. It was the first really groundbreaking social networking site I can think of, and it deserves its place in history. For bringing us a whole new genre of photograph (bathroom mirror self shots), for making it depressingly easy to see when your ex-girlfriends have new boyfriends, and for providing an easy way to keep in touch with hundreds of people I’ve never met in person… here’s to you, MySpace! Starting and ruining relationships since 2003.
Have I mentioned how much I love love love the fog? San Francisco’s Indian summer fog has arrived, and not a moment too soon. It’s half the reason I live where I live.
Damn, Gina… I haven’t posted anything on here in over a month! What can I say? I go through spells of not having anything interesting to share (assuming I ever do). It’s not that I haven’t been busy. If anything, maybe too busy. I figured I ought to at least check in with you, though.
Been to a bunch of great shows and events the last month or two. Crowded House at the Warfield, The Blasters, Reverend Horton Heat’s 25th anniversary show at The Fillmore (filmed for a DVD), Wicked with Shel, Conan O’Brien live, disco dancing in stretchy gold bell-bottoms and white platforms, and Phantom Of The Paradise (spawning a minor obsession). Had a couple of fun TCB shows in San Jose and Sacramento, where we got to debut “The Draize Train” and I got to go all guitar hero. Got on a go-kart for the first time in over a decade, which was way more fun than I expected. Got hit with a nasty computer virus (which I’m normally ultra-vigilant about). There may have been more exciting events of note. What am I forgetting?
Oh, and I finally finished watching the full Brisco County, Jr. series I remember from my youth. Such a good show! Such a tragedy it was only around one season (1993/94). A quirky, sci-fi western with the incomparable Bruce Campbell, the late Julius Carry (a.k.a. Sho’nuff), and the delicious Kelly Rutherford… all written by the guy who went on to produce “Lost.” I’m not a big DVD watcher, so this was an accomplishment for me. Let me know if you want to borrow it. 😉
Coming up, I’ve got a few weddings to go to, including one this weekend. Friends which also happen to be exes. By this time next month, the clear majority of my exes will be married, if the hitched don’t already make up the majority. It’s too depressing to do the math, but I’m pretty sure. They’re all breeding too, or will be soon. Good for them. I won’t lie… it does make me feel behind the curve a bit. I am now older than my dad was when I myself, the youngest, was born. I’m used to feeling, frankly, more mature than most people my age (which could be horsefeathers, but hey, it’s how I feel). Settling down is the one area where I sometimes wonder if I’m missing out on something essential. I know there’s no “right” answer or path I have to take in life, but did I somehow fall behind my peers here? Do they all know something I don’t know? Or is it vice versa? Much to ponder.
In lighter news, I’m also going to clean out my storage unit once and for all this weekend. That means a pile of dusty crap on my living room floor for a few weeks while I sort it all out, but I think I’ve at least got a plan now. If you have little ones who might be in the market for free toys from the 80’s and early 90’s, be sure to let me know. It’s almost all gonna be up for giveaway.
Lots of stuff on the horizon. TCB has a few shows in central CA in October, starting out on the tropical shores of Bakersfield (10/15) and ending in giddy Fresno (10/16). By then, I should have my new signature guitar picks in use, woo hoo! Then November will mark TCB’s 5th anniversary! There’s a good chance we’ll be doing something in SF to celebrate that, so stay tuned. I think I’ll need to write something about that, you know, looking back on the last five years and all. And if all that weren’t enough, I’ve started playing with a few different original bands — one on the Smiths side of things, the other a rockabilly band — so we’ll see where those go.
OK, I think we’re sufficiently caught up. Onward and upward…
I’m freshly returned from my first ever trip to Charlotte, NC. A business trip. Was it high on my wish list of travel destinations? Of course not, but it was a welcome diversion… and perhaps more importantly, it was an ideal next step in expanding my comfort zone. This was a five-hour flight, after all.
I’ll confess to a certain reticence concerning the South, and spying a large Nascar store in the airport as soon as I walked off the plane didn’t help. (In fact, I was later to find that a Nascar-branded skyscraper was visible from my hotel room!) I grabbed a cab and headed towards downtown. It wasn’t long before I was experiencing first hand the heat and humidity that was to define my whole trip. Near triple-digit temperatures and the crushing moist air made me wish I had brought my business casual shorts and sandals. The good news is that I was in air conditioning more often than not during my 3+ days in town.
I don’t mean to sound negative though. Aside from the weather and the almost comical lack of vegetarian food options (even the upscale Asian place served no tofu nor much of anything else veggie apart from a side of noodles), the trip was really valuable. Not least because I found it all very inspiring. Not just the change of scenery but even the general experience of travelling. It really seems to get the creative juices flowing, or at least it does for me. I remember my consulting days were rich in that department.
Christ, why don’t I do more travelling on my own time? It’s exciting, that getting up early on the day of your flight, the nerves as you pack up and leave the house, that walk through the airport parking lot, all leading up to some great unexpected wide open. It was the same preparing for Ireland as it was for anywhere else. And then once you’re there, I mean, my memory/concept of both work travel and vacations is wrapped up in experiences like the ones in Charlotte. Walking around some neon-heavy outdoor marketplace on a night so hot and humid you can wear shorts. Walking light because all my stuff is securely in the hotel. There’s something to the idea of having so few possessions to worry about. Just being out there without much more than the clothes on your back. Even the rental car — when there is one — isn’t actually yours. Somehow it makes you live in the moment more. Really live. No strings. You’re simply there absorbing all the new sights and sounds, taking it all in. And there’s a feeling of such independence that goes along with that too. You, dropped into unfamiliar surroundings and left to fend for yourself. You against the world. Mano-a-mundo.
Speaking of consulting, that was definitely the vibe of the trip. Preparing for it was not unlike reliving those old days. Bringing a laptop, living out of a hotel, wearing my trusty work jacket (and digging out of it two crusty Dramamine vials that expired in 2006)… then keeping receipts for expenses and just remembering all the little details like that. Well, it was my own white collar version of a washed up gunfighter dusting off his guns and coming out of retirement for one last ride. Happy and sad at the same time. I really need to get around to writing my old consulting stories here and just exorcising that once and for all.
I always enjoy catching the local news when I’m travelling, just to try to get a flavor for the place. Usually I’ll watch the Fox affiliate, because even though their 24 hour cable station’s reputation is understood, the local branches like our own KTVU seem relatively independent. Charlotte’s? Not so much. I’ll spare you the breakdown of every skewed story choice, story angle, and show of incompetence I witnessed. You’ve got the Daily Show to do that for you at the national level. Suffice it to say the anchors’ views — or perhaps in some cases the network’s views — were plain as day. So much for journalistic integrity and unbiased reporting, eh? Is “news” like that a bad influence on the local public, or is it actually a product of the existing public disposition? I watched and thought no wonder people here think this way… it’s what they hear every day on T.V. But I guess they might say the same for the more liberal Bay Area.
Anyhoo, Charlotte was nice. We all stayed in/near what is kind of like the Metreon of that city. A movie theater, an outdoor music bandstand, several restaurants. We met up with a local coworker one night and walked around downtown for the evening. Highlights included Crave, billed as a “dessert bar.” Basically it was an embarrassingly trendy bar that also happened to serve food… to the tune of 26 gourmet desserts. I bought two. Because I’m a grown-assed man, that’s why! Don’t question me. Oh, and when walking near the ball park, we happened across The Breakfast Club: a full time 80’s dance club! Sounds great, right? Well, even though it was open on a Tuesday night, all we saw was a bouncer, and empty parking lot, and what looked like a half dozen prostitutes loitering nearby. We passed.
So there you have it. Another wall comes down. This makes all of the continental United States and possibly even Hawaii “reachable” again. Pretty exciting stuff. I may not be that far from a European trip… eventually.
“In the face of such uncertainty, believe in these two things: you are stronger than you think, and you are not alone.”
I can’t believe it, but I’m down with another sore throat. For once, I actually think this one can be blamed on allergies, but I’m not taking any chances. The headache, the fatigue, it could be anything. This may cause me to miss The Lost Boys in Santa Cruz. Aww piss!
I had an exciting birthday weekend that included another great show by Slim Cessna, as well as some dinners and lunches with friends and family. This weekend is a merciful three-day, but as I’m too lazy to drive down to SoCal for Hootenanny (I-5 on a holiday weekend? No thanks.), I’m left with some time to kill. Could this be the weekend I finally make some headway with storage? Let’s consider:
The Facts
When I left the East Bay in 2004, I put everything I owned (that I wasn’t taking with me to S.F.) in a storage unit out there. We’re talking years of toys, sports equipment, baseball cards, school papers, books, and God knows what else. I haven’t even cracked the door on this place in the last six years. I don’t remember all of what was in there or even how much of it there was. For all I know, the unit was broken into the day after I left it, and I’ve been paying monthly rent on an empty unit for the better part of a decade. This is hundreds of dollars going out the window every year, and for what? Because I haven’t gotten off my ass to take care of it.
The Options
The way I see it, there are four possibilities, and they are as follows:
Do Nothing There’s nothing that says I have to do anything about it now. It’s not that expensive, and I could leave it all in storage for another 10 years if I wanted to. The upside is that it costs me no effort. The downside is not only the monthly rent but also the mental and spiritual weight of knowing I have all these possessions in my name that are going to waste and occupying space in my consciousness.
Keep It There’s too much to move in my car in one trip, and it’s a 45 minute trip one way. But I could take a few trips, or else rent/borrow a truck and get all of my stuff out of there. The question is: what would I do with it? I don’t have room in my place for all of that crap unless I want it in a big pile in the middle of my living room. And then there are the spiders to consider. After all these years undisturbed, I shudder to think how many critters — alive or dead — might be lurking in all those dark boxes. The last thing I want to do is bring that nightmare into my house! All I’d really be doing here is trading the cost of the storage unit rent for space in my living room. No me gusta.
Give It Away Now we’re getting into the more serious options. I think the reality is that I have lived this long without this stuff, to the point I don’t even remember most of what’s in there. Do I really need it anymore? I guess I always thought I’d have kids someday and that they’d inherit all this stuff and it would find the perfect use. Even if I do have kids though, they’re going to be all about Nintendo. What would they want with an old G.I. Joe or a box of baseball cards? I feel like the era of passing toys onto your kids has started to pass. It’s not the same as it was with our parents’ generation, is it? Or is it? I can see the value in going through all these old toys again and the memories it will surely evoke. Is that final going-through-them-in-preparation-to-give-them-away a sufficient final extraction of value? Or do I need to keep them longer? Or could I get away with taking and keeping pictures of them? The memories could be preserved that way. It feels like a scary proposition to just give all this stuff away. For all the time and effort and money that went into collecting it and storing it for what amounts to almost my whole life… to just wake up one day and sweep it out the door? That’s huge!
Sell It This feels about the same as just giving it away. It has the bonus of at least feeling like it’s going to someone who appreciates it. I mean, if someone bothers to track down a Hot Wheels from me, he probably really wants that car. So it would be like it was serving a purpose again, plus there’d be at least some money in it. If I could snap my fingers and sell everything in that storage unit for its fair price, heck it might not even add up to what I’ve spent on storing it the last six years. And of course it won’t be that easy. It’d probably be a big pain in the ass to catalog and sell all of that stuff. Ebay? Craig’s List? It might take weeks to move it all. And this isn’t exactly the economy to be selling trinkets. But I feel like I should be getting some money for it at least. I mean, my parents paid for most of it with their hard-earned money during my childhood. The least I could do is get a return and pass it on to them. Just getting rid of it feels like it would be an insult.
The Horns Of A Dilemma
On the one hand, I feel like I need to shed this weight, but on the other it pains me to think of the wasted money and stress of keeping it for all this time just to suddenly dump it unceremoniously. So in all seriousness, I’d love to get your input. Surely some of you have been through some variation on this same experience. Am I being ridiculous? The Buddhist in me says “give it away, let it go, it’s served its purpose, and it’s only hurting you now.” And I secretly fantasize about what it would feel like to know all my material possessions are right here with me, easily tracked, easily moved, and easily disposed of. Like I’d be more mobile. Lighter. What to do?
The Sudden Change Of Subject
That debut album from The Drums finally came out. It’s pretty good, kinda like Joy Division with an upbeat surf slant… and a healthy dose of new romantic. In terms of accessibility, I think their “Summertime!” EP was a little catchier, but this album is still worth a hear.
Before I begin, how is it I write about food so much on here? I didn’t intend that to happen, but somehow it has.
Anyway, it came up again the other day that over the years, so many of my favorite sinful foods have disappeared off of menus and shelves — often not long after I discover them to begin with. So for no reason other than pure junk food nostalgia, my top 10 delicious-yet-extinct snacks:
Cheddar Beer Kettle Chips – Kettle Chips are pretty fantastic in general, but they’re made better by the fact that they occasionally release strange flavors that are suggested to them by customers. Well for a few years (2005-2007?), they had such a flavor called Cheddar Beer which sounds disgusting but actually tasted exactly what it sounds like. There was a malt aftertaste! So weird! I don’t really even like beer, but I was obsessed with them and had them with lunch almost every day for a couple of years. Then, for no reason I can guess, they were retired. I was, and remain, crushed.
WWF Superstars Ice Cream Bars– This was the prize of catching up with an ice cream truck. Never mind if you weren’t into wrestling. You could ignore the trading card that was included, and even the wrestler that was stamped on the bar itself. The point was the ice cream sandwich that was chocolate on one side and a to-die-for shortbread cookie on the other. I am sadly aware of no substitute for these.
Peanut Butter Boppers– Sugary peanut butter rolled in chocolate chips? Yes, please. This was one of my original “long-lost foods,” and no one I knew remembered them. Thanks to the information age, we can easily find proof of their existence, but for years my only evidence that I wasn’t crazy was the brief appearance of a box of Boppers in grampa’s fridge near the beginning of The Lost Boys. which reminds me: this Wednesday Corey Feldman and his band will be hosting a screening of The Lost Boys at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk (where the movie was filmed). I am so there.
Tato Skins– Back to chips here, these Keebler snacks were amazing. Really thick almost like a cracker. I thought they disappeared completely, but I saw a bag in a vending machine in the Midwest a few years back. I guess it’s one of those things where they stopped selling in certain markets? According to Wiki, they may be related to T.G.I.Friday’s chips? Must research this. This is all reminding me of some other long-lost chips. O’Boise’s? Chachos? Both also made by Keebler. Keebler apparently ruled my chubby little world in the late 80’s. Thank God we all still have lime Tostitos to fall back on.
The Potted Plant – For a short while, the Hungry Hunter restaurant had a desert on their menu that was as follows: vanilla-cheesecake custard served in a clay-colored plastic bowl that was shaped to resemble a flower pot. It was then covered completely with crushed Oreo. Finally, a plastic flower was stuck in the top. The overall effect was that they’d set a potted flower down in front of you, and as you ate it, it would at first appear that you were scooping up soil and eating it with a spoon. As a kid, this was beyond fascinating to me… not to mention insanely delicious. With a lot of effort, I suppose I could reproduce it. When it went away, I instead ordered their Bailey’s Irish Cream pie. Which was an excellent backup, and was my gateway into drinking Bailey’s and eventually real drinks. So if I’d turned out to be an alcoholic, just think, I could have blamed Hungry Hunter for nixing the Plant!
Chocolate Lasagna– While we’re on the subject of chain restaurant deserts, did you ever try this creation from Olive Garden? It was just several layers of chocolate cake, butter-cream frosting, and chocolate chips. Seriously delish. And since I liked it so much, of course, they took it off the menu.
Cookie Sandwich – OK, if we’re going to do this, let’s do it. Me liking a dessert has proved to be the kiss of death time and time again. The Elephant Bar’s awesome and massive chocolate chip cookie ice cream sandwich went the way of the dinosaur as well. I know there are even more than these last three examples, but I’ll end this theme. Just trust me, if you like a dessert, never introduce me to it or else the chef will make it his highest priority to stop making it.
Out Of The Blue-Berry Snapple– I used to be a major lemon iced tea junkie. These days, I can rarely drink it anymore because it’s so sweet. But there was a short-lived variation around 2007 that used blueberry flavor instead of lemon. It’s with us no longer, and my attempts to reproduce it with my own ingredients have failed. But it did serve to hook me on blueberries which I now eat all the time in all forms.
Orbitz Cola – This was basically like a fruit drink with little balls of like gelatin floating around in it. Come to think of it, I only had it a few times. I think some girl I liked talked me into it. Well, these days we have bubble tea, and it’s actually probably better. So maybe never mind on this one.
1980’s Cereal– This is a simple three-way tie between a trio of my faves among the scores of entertainment-themed breakfast cereals of the era. Smurf Berry Crunch were red and blue and tasted very much like what is modernly known as Cap’n Crunch Berries. E.T. cereals had a peanut butter thing going for it, not unlike the modern Reese’s cereal. Mr. T cereal tasted pretty much like modern Cap’n Crunch, and has the added distinction of being featured in a memorable scene in Pee-wee’s Big Adventure. I’d have also mentioned Count Chocula, but all the monster cereals seem to get “re-issued” every so often.
There’s a good chance #1 on this list would have been Mother’s Cookies, had they not been miraculously resurrected last year. They’re back in stores, so we can all rest easier. But they deserve honorable mention for sure. And you know on second thought, those may not actually be the top 10. But they’re the 10 I can think of at the moment. I’m sure more will come to me later. And I know there are whole websites dedicated to discontinued foods of the 80’s and 90’s I could look to. How about you? Any bygone dishes you still long for?
I’ll leave you with this bizarre one from the early days of the internet. G’night kiddies.
Well, it seems Old Man Hudson’s birthday is coming up. And what better way to celebrate than to relive some of my fondest memories of the few decades? By which of course I mean running down the last few TCB shows…
Bakersfield / Fresno
It’s been over a month now, so my memories are fading. I meant to write about this earlier, but alas. That Bako/Fresno weekend was a hell of a trip. I drove out to pick Nick up at the farm and got the whole tour, goats and all. Loved it. Saw a bunch of meerkat-looking things on the side of the freeway just standing and watching cars drive by. (This was a little north of Morgan Hill on 101.) Blazing hot Bakersfield, as a town, was interesting. We stayed at the newly renovated Padre Hotel, and though it was pricey, it was totally worth it. I wish we had more time there, because it was pseudo-Vegas and gaudy, but undeniably comfortable. One of the nicer rooms I’ve been in, honestly. Downstairs was a different story, because it was packed to the gills with locals. The prevailing style and attitude of the town was as douchey as I expected. A lot of big pickup trucks, awful club clothes, and general meathead-ery. Like our own West Coast Jersey Shore kinda. The overall effect was not unlike Biff’s casino in Back To The Future II’s alternate 1985. There’s just a weird vibe in that city. But that doesn’t apply to everyone. We had a good crowd at Fishlips, and after a little while, we even got some of that seated room up dancing.
On the way out of town, we visited Buck Owens’ Crystal Palace museum and had Macaroni Grill for the first time in years. I myself even made a detour to see C-Po in Visalia, tucked almost in the shadow of what I think were the Sequoia National Park mountains. Saw the Moz-friendly Velouria Records. The place we played in Fresno (the all ages Starline) was actually great, and the show itself was probably the best of the last few months. The crowd was way into it. Nick rocked his electronic drum-kit. I joined For The Masses for “Personal Jesus.” I’m hoping we get to play there again. Have I mentioned how much I love playing Fresno? That town just fits us!
And so does its Claim Jumper, which of course we hit the next morning. So yeah, great trip. Special thanks to For The Masses. I’m so glad they’re back together. Such nice guys, and they sound amazing. That “Pain That I’m Used To” intro gives me chills. The shows were fun, had some side adventures, and saw a lot of California roads I’d never driven on before. Me gusta!
Slim’s (San Francisco)
The Slim’s Moz birthday show was another huge night, with 450+ in attendance. Fascination Street’s San Francisco debut went every bit as well as we all expected. I’m sure they’ll be back soon. Love Vigilantes put on a great set, and TCB overcame several obstacles to have a killer show. We had to cut some songs, our big intro video plans were botched at the last minute, and some other drama too. My brand new Les Paul got a big gash in it at some point during the evening, but I didn’t see it happen. But despite it all, it was good times. The Jenny Wehrt raffle situation went over well, and I think she sold all of the paintings she brought. Hope to have her back next year! I’m telling you Bay Area folks, our annual Slim’s show is the one not to miss. It’s been pretty consistently epic if I do say so myself. 🙂
Seattle
It was always going to be a quick trip. Barely 24 hours, but in that time, holy shit did we eat some good food. In just one day, we accidentally found Beth’s Cafe which turned out to be some hip locals place. Among other things, I had the best blueberry muffin. So good in fact that I assumed it would be the culinary highlight of the trip. How wrong I was. Before the show was a delicious arugula salad with chèvre and pistachios. Then after the show, we were looking for a 24 hour place. A punk rock girl at the venue directed us to The Night Kitchen, a place so hip that no one we asked on the street could help us find it… despite us thrice circling and asking around on the very block it’s located on. We eventually found it, and with it the true culinary highlight of the trip. Everything we had was amazing, but the prize goes to the fried cheese curds. Delicious and revolting at the same time. Picture bits of fried mozzarella sticks where the batter is like salty donut batter. My mouth said yes, but my conscience said no. Whew! OK, so then the next day we hit up Luna Park, and with a few hours to kill before heading home, a waitress suggested Full Tilt in White Center. This is a homemade ice cream parlor (that serves beer floats) and has old arcade and pinball games. (Operation Wolf!) Despite being stuffed from Luna Park, I managed to squeeze in some salted caramel ice cream.
Sorry for “fooding out” there, but believe me, this trip warrants it. Now, the Yang to that good food Yin was, without question, our dirty hotel in the meth part of town. Let’s just say I chose to lay down some towels to avoid too much contact with the sheets. The show itself at Tractor Tavern was great! We played solidly and drew a big and fun crowd. Our friend and fill-in singer Virgil helped us out and did an amazing job, with some real vocal chops and showmanship. A total success!
Fin
I’ll leave you with some new music. When I was in Chicago a while back, I heard a song playing in the background while checking out some antique shop. Mainly I noticed the glammy guitar tone, and I knew I had to find out what it was. Turns out it was — quite unexpectedly — Monsters Of Folk. And that killer guitar work was not at all representative of the rest of the album. But just the same, it ended up being a great find, and believe that I am no fan of most modern folk music. My assessment? A lot of the singing reminds me of Yes. I hear a Simon & Garfunkel influence in songs like “Magic Marker.” But the glam factor is in there too, where you hear a Bowie sound in many tracks, including the one that boasted the aforementioned killer guitar solo “Say Please.” Other standouts included “Ahead Of The Curve” and “Dear God.” At the end of the day, I wasn’t blown away or anything, but it’s certainly worth a listen. I love how that happens sometimes where you come across new music when you least expect it and occasionally end up finding a gem. Hell, it’s how I’ve found some of my favorite bands over the years… including The Smiths!
OK, so I meant to write this a couple months ago, and so now it’s not exactly “current,” but oh well…
So with the popularity of Avatar (and the 3-D craze it’s brought with it), I thought maybe it was time to let this little idea go. The already ill-conceived remake of my childhood fave Clash Of The Titans was the first casualty of Hollywood embarrassingly falling all over itself to try to cash in. You’re probably aware that they actually delayed the Clash remake’s release so that they could go back and make it 3-D as an afterthought. Cringe! There are so many things wrong with that statement, I can’t even keep it all in my head. Amid all the bad reviews I heard, none summed it up so well as Bob Mondello’s review on NPR — which is worth a quick read/listen. I still have fond memories of that old red/cyan 3-D effect (which in my case is most closely tied to some 3-D Jaws trading cards Dad got me at a flea market when I was little). But in those days, that was what 3-D meant. And then I guess eventually we had Captain EO, but hey, that was 4-D!
Anyway, so here’s my idea. Every greaser crew needs to have one guy who wears 3-D glasses all the time. I make that judgment based on whatever combination of 50’s movies and TV shows has amalgamated in my head over the years. But seriously, you know the guy. If he has any lines at all, he’s usually the joker of the group. Probably a ginger. When someone asks him what’s with the glasses, he replies he’s trying to see his whole life in 3-D (genius right?). Yeah, you know the one. I realize this sounds a little crazy, but I mean, rockabilly fashion often goes over the top. I myself have a letterman’s jacket, and I’ve seen plenty of (admittedly unfortunate) poodle skirts and even a few satin Pink Ladies jackets. So yeah, it’s out there, but it’s not out of the question. I’m just saying I need one of these guys for my crew. And those little white paper glasses are as cheap as can be! Something tells me I’m gonna have a hard time talking anyone into this though.
But I have hope! You see, 3-D televisions are already hitting the market, hot on the heels of the Avatar trend, and viewers have to wear the 3-D glasses for them to work. We’re talking about people sitting around at home, wearing special glasses to watch TV. Now I myself cannot imagine wearing special TV glasses at home, but then I guess they used to think no one would ever pay for cable, and look how that turned out. I suppose if nothing else, it pushes the technology forward and gets us closer to some future innovation that I might actually be into (like a holodeck). But I digress. My point is that in time I’m sure some company will start selling retro-looking-but-fully-functional 3-D glasses for 3-D televisions, and when that happens, my hope is that someone will wear them all the time for me. Volunteers?
