Here it comes, NUMBAH 2

Shaneshit

Here it comes, blog posting #2, and still nothing but plain text. What a slacker I am. Bottom line, is like I said in the first entry (I hope) - I'm gonna go back over these past months and write about as they happened, while still trying to get caught up on the new stuff as it’s happening. Main new stuff going on with me is my first zine writing since expiration {when you no longer owe parole, that is the technical term for finishing a sentence – “day for day” being the colloquial speak. Funny that, calling the end of a prison the same thing as death. The patient expired, but this prisoner did not … yet. Ha! But maybe that makes sense – maybe if the Big O is also the little d (petit morte = little death, then Big P(arole) = Medium size necrosis, right?)} appeared in Big Wheel, the August issue. It was a band profile on The Binges, who I know I recommended to my readers here last post -- and I just checked the link and it does indeed take you to their vid - so hurry up and rock out to it!! What might end up being even cooler, we'll see - is a possibility I'll be the west coast guy-to-go-to for a new mag launching soon. I guess till I'm firmly ensconced on the masthead I'll keep it kinda hush hush. But for sure mentioning it helps me segue to my bad experience the other night. Not bad like its awful I was treated that way - just bad as in: “Is human nature really that fucked up (that's a rhetorical question mind you).” Yeah, so I was getting out kinda late (which happens all the time as I’m sure I'll explain ,describe and lament numerous times through the existence of this blog) and as often happens, the choices in LA were numerous. I found out later I had fucked up -- I should have raced over to Safari Sam's to catch Agent Orange. I figured Sam’s for the music being over by 12:30 there, but they went on late. What with Channel 3 on the bill too bringing a pretty packed house. But I was thinking with a one-track mind that I needed to see The Supersuckers again, having caught them a few months back at the Troubadour. So I took off to the Viper Room. So I’ve been back on the set awhile, not a year yet - but ten months or so - and though it’s in the heart of Hollywood I haven’t been there yet. The deal is - that isn't even that bizarre of a fact -- there are plenty of clubs that fit that bill right off the top of my head. The Gig, The Joint, The Cat Club - mainly because there is no one there I want to see - not having heard of the bands isn't always a deterrent - but obviously things I know a little about are of more interest than just a name - and with so many gazilions of bands in LA, some clubs seem to specialize in the ones that are flying under everyone’s radar - even fans of the genres featured most. Probably also pay-to-play going on at some of these, which always brings out the mediocrities.

Hnnmm - back to my story - I’d avoided the Viper Room because it is notorious for its attitude. It is bad enough that the whole club is set up along the lines of the celebrity viewing and grooving areas - and where the hoi polloi must assemble. But gratuitous rudeness is the norm there, or so I’d heard. No, or so I experienced - because when I went up to the entrance a woman with a clipboard was grooving a couple and taking their email - she was obviously someone’s publicity maven - but when I tried to engage her repartee perhaps gaining me admission for my writing duties - or even just a "Hey if the band is half over can we get in for half price?” -- but before I could do anything but rattle that off, she was begging off, and telling me to talk to the door guy - who was nowhere around. When I refused to cease and desist an attempted conversation she told me she didn’t care who I knew or who I blew that she wasn’t letting me in, or maybe it was just the vulgarity with her reiterating I had to wait for the doorman. There was only a small line - basically some bewildered looking dudes who were wondering why they’d been standing there waiting to pay. Sure enough that practice of The Viper is also notorious: they like to leave a few people waiting behind a mini-rope - to look packed and popular I guess. The doorman got back and of course begged off himself about the power to groove anyone - but he also reminded me that that shit was taken care of up the hall by the cashier. So why wasn't he letting people in when the band was 20 minutes into their set? So fuck, the poor doorman is not as big of a tool as the chick if merely because of his bemused rather than exasperated expression. A third character gets involved - he is obviously in one of the bands - I recognize his fucking ass - he is a rock and roll somebody - He immediately gets people who'd just walked up through the rope. The ice being momentarily broken The doorman starts to let in peopl e who will pay. And as me and the guy with me went up the hallway to a point (I’m not sure who hollered up)they let ‘em know again that it was the couple in front of us that were getting in free; they said out loud, loudly, how these two gentlemen had money for her - sure thing - NOT. The c*nt not only had the attitude down - but she may even have just seen how far she could push it. Cuz when I said the band was half through their set and she could at least give us a discount she told me, “No, it’s forty bucks” -- I couldn’t believe my ears, then I thought I may have remembered the tickets going for 25 - so I thought maybe she meant 40 for the both of us - but she said no - it was a piece. Needless to say we left and as we did I was grousing to the assembled cast of three characters I've described how not only didn’t we possess this money they’d promised the cashier - but that it was a damned shame I wouldn’t be able to get the band high afterwards thanks to their assholiness (forget what term I used – probably just mumbled “…and I was going to get them high…” as I walked by - cuz I knew that would produce the fear of god in anyone standing in the way of a band and their good times - and sure enough the rocker realized that and jokingly asked me what do you have 4 good looking babes in your pocket I can’t see or something and I just said waddya think and kept trucking - and I heard him tell the other two as I made my departure - man -and I was thinking of letting him in. Yeah, right - I don't think he knew I was with the other dude - but then again it was probably the other dude’s fault they thought we were moneyed types who needed to pay - but explaining why that is ain’t happening right here - instead I'm racing to the conclusion of the night to say that we got to contribute our cash to the scene ANYWAY, because I couldn’t even get us a discount at The Echo, and it was more than it usually is there because this weekend was the Fuck Yeah Fest - with scads of bands all days -- booked (curated even - since there was whole carnival’s worth of shit) by Keith Morris. We got there in time for the last portion of The Bronx, and then Keith Morris came on in a silly rocker wig so they could discard it mid-first song - I wonder when and where he picked up that shtick? Cuz I saw Arthur Lee of Love do that - considering that gentleman just died, could this have been in tribute to him. I kinda doubt it, but the next time you or I see Keith, let’s try to remember to ask him. Keith Morris of the Circle Jerks having famously been more than just another guy from a seminal band - but someone involved in the scene and going out and seeing bands. Still caring about the music. Unfortunately he also still cares so much about politics (to pick a word that more or less applies) -- and so it is obvious that no matter how much he loves singing to his audience - he likes ranting to them about ethical issues even more. To highlight how ineffectual he probably was - he is the guy running the show over the whole three day wingding – and mid-set he announces that some people got kicked out for over enthusiasm in the pit - and then he starts to say that is fucked up- at first I thought he was going to lecture the audience about fighting - but it seemed he was accusing the club of ejecting guys who really didn't deserve it but were just boys being boys - so if that is how he felt he didn’t do much when the bounders snagged a couple more and ejected them a song or two later. From what I saw the bouncers were the smart ones looking to relax mainly so they actually ejected the right asshole who kept being too aggro - instead of themselves getting overly physical and provoking bad feeling - but that means that Keith didn’t know what he was talking about AND he couldn’t have done anything about it if he had have - my point bring - if that is true in the microcosm of the scene at the club -- how can he change/police/even affect any shadow on/in the macrocosm. I wish him luck though he is obviously a sweet guy, and the Circle Jerks rock as hard as ever - I mean maybe it isn’t quite what seeing the original line-up in '80 was like - but it wasn’t like they embarrassed themselves after airing set by a tough band like The Bronx. Speaking of The Bronx, Id really like to know what the singer’s deal is. He seems like a nice guy - and trying to emphasize the compatibility of intense dancing without being a dick he jumps in the pit during his band and other people’s as well - so he is obviously the real deal in that respect - what I can’t figure out is why they called their label White Drugs (whatever major they're on gave 'em the label as part of signing I think) if they don't get high - and if they do. Well why did the singer tell me he would smoke with me after his set, and then afterwards when I broached it he actually got defensive like I ought to leave him alone to try and have a good time...No problem boy - but I know he didn’t take me for some totally besotted fan - and if he was telling the truth when he first said he would blaze with me later, then why the turnabout to the point of bristling at my reminder? Probably never now cuz I don't vase much - I see him around (though i guess they'll be gone forever on tour starting soon) and it aint like he' pulled me over to cash in the rain check. I will say that after seeing them twice headlining that I cant imagine them sucking - but that they'll never be in the top ranks of my faves just because there is some element missing - maybe its that the guy is asexual like Ian Mackaye - and so that guy singing for the guys thing is too male-bonding. I never did care all that much for Seven Seconds because of the preeminence of that BS - but when 999 sang “Feeling Alright With The Crew” I was all with that - hmm. Anyhow, The Bronx singer seems like neither as big of an arse as Rollins or Mackaye when they're being themselves - and I kinda doubt he'll end up like his Mentor Keith of the Jerks - lecturing between songs. In closing, they're good but not great. Finest moment was when I even fell for the idiotic provincialism (neighborhoodissimo ?) of him telling us this one song was only for those of us born and raised in LA and that everyone else could fuck off. Since I am….

So that now that I’ve said my piece I can go onto closing this entry out. I feel like I need to throw something in here - so I’m gonna try to put a nice little graphic image or three - some I stole from my boy Mick at Doc 40. Got to figure out how to do it. Fuck, I need to know HTML – this is lame!