Ron House

Ron House was a local legend in Columbus, OH. You could always find him behind the counter at Used Kids. However, his connection the music scene went way further back than that.

He played for the 80's underground band The Great Plains.

At some point, he crossed paths with Bob Pollard. Pollard told the story at a show once that Ron House introduced him to bands like Wire while hanging out at Magnolia Thunderpussy, another seminal Columbus record shop.

Eventually, House formed Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments. They played a handful of shows and had a ton of buzz.

Thurston Moore hand-picked them to play the second stage at Lollapalooza. I missed it because I chose to eat. My siblings saw the set, along with members of Brainiac, Pavement, and Sonic Youth. I ate something fried while Cypress Hill took the main stage.

I did see TJSA a few times around town, including once opening for Guided By Voices and New Bomb Turks.

Ron House once came to my college for a CD swap night. He liked all the pretty girls.

I'd see House for years after that in Used Kids. He always was pleasant. There were even a few times he rounded up a used version of something new I was about to buy, saving me a few bucks. I once saw him come in on a Saturday morning with his baby. That's sort of where the Ron House mystique ended for me.

Either way, Ron House is the Columbus music scene.

The Coctails

Not many people remember the Coctails. They were a band from Chicago who recorded on Carrot Top Records. They largely self-taught musicians who played a ridiculous number of instruments. The songs ranged from typical early-nineties indie rock to a sort of jazzy lounge-type of music.

I saw them on the second stage at Lollapalooza in 1993 and again in 1995. Then I saw them on their farewell tour later in 1995. They sold dolls of the band members along with their Cd's and t-shirts.

Members later went on to form several other bands, including Sea and Cake.

Sonic Youth Opens

I saw Sonic Youth open for another band.

Of course, it was long after they had established themselves as a top, mid-range draw. They had already headlined Lollapalooza. And they opened for Wilco who shared Jim O'Rourke.

Sonic Youth blew Wilco off the stage that summer night in Cleveland.

The Best Wilco Show I Saw

Wilco has generally disappointed me with their live show. They're a much better album band for me. They always seemed sort of stiff and unnatural.

However, they were great one night. I saw them play an outdoor show in Columbia, MO during my first fall in town. It was a place some of the band members used to come in their youth to see shows.

Actually, Uncle Tupelo used to play the Blue Note a lot.

Speaking of Uncle Tupelo, I saw Son Volt reunite at the Blue Note later that same fall.

Back to Wilco...Many family members were there for the show. Either the familiarity with the town or the fact so much family was there allowed the band to be at ease and loose. It was a great show.

Nels Cline

I am not a gigantic Nels Cline fan, but he has always impressed me when I've seen him live.

I first saw him play with Mike Watt at Stache's. That was a pretty awesome set. I was maybe three feet away from Cline's incredible performance.

I also saw him play with the Geraldine Fibbers and Porno for Pyros (with Mike Watt on bass).

The last couple of times I've seen him were with Wilco, a pairing which never made sense to me, but it worked.

I Saw Brainiac a Few Times

I saw Brainiac a few times. There was the time at Lollapalooza on the second stage in 1995. Then I saw them at Stache's maybe a couple of times.

I once took my sister who was in high school to a club in Dayton a day or two after Christmas in 2006. It was maybe a few months after Tupac Shakur died, but that didn't stop Tim Taylor from dedicating a song or two to his memory.

The most memorable show for me was the last time they played Columbus. There was a lot of buzz about the band signing to Interscope. They played hard and completely demolished the place...which literally happened a few months later.

Sadly, Taylor died in a car accident in Dayton. It was before they could ever finish their record.

Dave Doughman Sets Me Straight

I feebly tried to tell a story about Dave Doughman of Swearing at Motorists. He found my post and set me straight. In case you missed the comments, this is what he said...
wow, i had almost forgotten about that story... except, sorry, but i have to set you straight on a few details... the club was a sold out Canal Street Tavern, it must have been 2001 or 2002, because we couldn't get more than 50 people in the room until after we signed to Secretly Canadian... i did not notice this guy walk through the door, nor did i know who he was. and in fact he was not dating an ex-girlfriend, but stalking her (which i was only later told). what happened is:

we had started a song, when a beer bottle came flying through the crowd, just missing my head, but hitting the headstock of my guitar and knocking it out of tune. i stopped playing and started yelling "Who threw the fucking bottle?"
"you got something to say, come say it to my face, don't throw things you fucking coward!"
"Who threw the fucking bottle?" "come up here right now!" so as i am yelling this, some friends and fans who saw this idiot throw the bottle start pushing him from behind, towards the stage. as he
"arrived" at the stage, i resisted the urge to punch him in the face, and instead bent down and calmly asked him why he threw the bottle.
his answer was something like " She loved you, why do you hurt her?" that's when i offered him his money back and asked him to leave. he would not take my money, but started towards the door, yelling threats and more nonsense about my ex-girlfriend. that is when i ran across the table tops after him, knocking over everyone's drinks...
my good friends Rod Boggs and Tom Byrne stopped me from following him out the front door, but once i had returned to the stage, they ran after him, chasing after his car on foot, until he stopped in the middle of 3rd Street, and pulled "something" out of the glove compartment. they then decided maybe it was best to go back inside before he could get out of his car. we later heard he was riding around town, saying he was going to shoot me, but obviously he didn't want to shoot me too badly, as he never came to the after show party...

My brother was one of the 50 or so people at Canal Street that night. It's actually his story and I butchered it. In the spirit of accuracy, I'll leave the original post and this Doughman's account.

Crooked Fingers at Little Brothers

I saw Crooked Fingers play Little Brothers twice.

The first time was forgettable.

Eric Bachman played alone, opening for Superchunk. His dirge of a voice was barely audible over the talkative crowd.

What made his set even more forgettable was the fact that an unknown ...And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead also played on the bill. It was Trail of Dead's first gig with Superchunk since joining Merge. The lead singer at some point leaped into the crowd and screamed into the face of the biggest guy in the crowd.

(That happened to me once at Stache's when the front man for Six Finger Satellite screamed into my face while opening for Brainiac. I was not the biggest guy in the venue. But I digress.)

Superchunk played well.

Then, I saw Crooked Fingers in a nearly-empty Little Brothers on a cold, winter evening.

Crooked Fingers, now a three-piece, played their first three songs on the floor with no amplification. The third song was announced as a Prince song. Someone gave a sarcastic cheer.

Bachman gruffly replied, "Seriously, it's a good song." Silence.

They played "When U Were Mine". It was maybe the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.

The rest of the set was fine. My friend Brad yelled for a few Archers of Loaf songs to no avail.

Ugly Casanova and Iron and Wine

We saw Ugly Casanova play the Beachland Ballroom in Cleveland.

There was a band opening to whom we paid little to no attention. It turned out the hushed band was Iron and Wine.

Some of Iron and Wine played with Isaac Brock in Ugly Casanova as well as members of Holopaw and Fruit Bats.

Brock did a lot of barking through his mega phone and even played "Styrofoam Boats/It's All Nice on Ice, Alright".

Hanukkah with Yo La Tengo

Every Hanukkah, Yo La Tengo goes on an eight-night tour. I was lucky enough to catch one of these tours. The band stopped off at the Beachland Ballroom in Cleveland, OH.

I don't remember who opened, but I know they closed with "Nuclear War" as they weaved through the audience with bongos in-hand. I left with a t-shirt featuring a menorah with the flames spelling out "Yo La Tengo".

We drove home in the snow that night.

Beck and His Backing Band: The Flaming Lips

I saw Beck play in Mershon Auditorium on the Ohio State campus. This was in support of Sea Change.

His backing band was the Flaming Lips. Not bad.

Wayne Coyne split his time on stage between playing guitar and encouraging the audience to cheer.

Beck mentioned that the last time he had played Columbus, it was at Bernie's. I remember that show. Bernie's could fit 100 people and there was a line around the block. I didn't go.

The other two times I saw Beck was at Lollapalooza '95 and on his Midnight Vultures tour several years later.

The Mershon show was the best of the three.

Swearing at Motorists, Swearing at Patrons

Swearing at Motorists played this club in Dayton. Near the beginning of their set, Dave Doughman noticed a guy walk through the door. He recognized the dude and stopped playing.

Doughman proclaimed that the guy had to leave or he wouldn't play. It turns out this guy was dating Doughman's ex-girlfriend.

Without warning, Doughman leaped off the stage and chased the guy out of the venue.

Eventually, Doughman returned to play his set.

The Flaming Lips at the Newport

The Flaming Lips' The Soft Bulletin didn't make sense to me until I saw it performed live.

In a half-full Newport Music Hall, the Lips put on a show with Sebadoh and Robyn Hitchcock. You could also rent a set of FM headphones as part of an experiment along the lines of their Zaireeka project. I opted to listen the old-fashioned way.

For this tour, the band played without guitarist Ronald Jones as a three-piece. Steven Drozd jumped back and forth between drums, keyboards, guitars, and samplers. Wayne Coyne played way less guitar than other times I had seen him.

Also new was the projection screen behind the band. This is where the new album began to take shape and make sense to me. They projected scenes from cult classic films as well as their own warped home videos. The performance was really low tech and a precursor to the extravaganza yet to come.

The Flaming Lips and Xmas Lights

I once saw the Flaming Lips at Stache's. They played in front of what felt like forty billion white Christmas lights. I still have the t-shirt from that show. It featured an alien on the front and read "The Flaming Lips Believe" and on the back was a picture of Santa with the words "Okla City".

Sleater-Kinney in Amsterdam

In 2000, I went on a trip around Europe. On that trip, I listened to a tape of Sleater-Kinney's All Hands on the Bad One...until my Walkman was stolen in Italy.

Anyway, at some point, we ended up in Amsterdam. I had checked some bands tour schedules before leaving the States and knew that Sleater-Kinney was scheduled to play Amsterdam sometime during our stay. It turns out that the show was that night.

I walked up to a ticket counter at the visitor center just outside the main train station in Amsterdam. I asked if there were tickets for the Sleater-Kinney show. The woman behind the counter had no clue as to what I was talking about, but she looked on the computer anyway. I was able to get two tickets for that night's show, 3-4 blocks from out hostile.

The show was in this old performance hall. The main room was primarily used as a dance club. For rock shows, you climbed upstairs to a rather dingy room with no chairs and a tiny stage.

Mary Timony opened. She was good, good enough that I bought her debut solo album at the show.

Sleater-Kinney was incredible that night. I was surprised by all the Americans in the audience, but enjoyed the show despite them. This was the first time I ever saw Sleater-Kinney.

I went to Anne Frank's house the next day.

The Best Show I Ever Saw

I remember seeing Pavement at the Agora Theater in Cleveland with the Dirty Three and Come. While I was hanging out in the lobby before the show, some kid asked me about my t-shirt. I was wearing my blue Archers of Loaf shirt that featured the same picture of a hockey player as their Vs. the Greatest of All Time EP. The kid couldn't get into the show since he wasn't yet eighteen.

I saw Archers of Loaf show was in Columbus, OH at a venue called Stache's. Stache's is no longer in the same location. Within a couple of years, the dark, dingy rock dive would be torn down in favor of a shopping center that would feature a Gumby's Pizza, a tanning salon, and an H&R Block storefront. This was same venue that Sonic Youth played in for the first time with drummer Steve Shelley. The place was a historical landmark of college rock and the indie scene.

It was my sophomore year in college and I was still learning about indie rock. Despite living in Columbus for almost two years, I had yet to attend a show at Stache's. Of course, they were constantly going back and forth between allowing those under eighteen through their doors. In fact, my girlfriend at that time hadn't yet turned twenty. We weren't even sure she'd get in, but it was announced that those under eighteen would be allowed in for an additional surcharge. Nineteen was fine.

Archers of Loaf were unknown to me just a couple of months earlier. I had only learned of them through a random track on the My So-called Life soundtrack that my brother and sister gave me the year before as a joke for my birthday. The song "South Carolina" was constantly played in my dorm room. It wasn't until about a year later that I had heard anyone even mention the band Archers of Loaf. This guy Brad was letting me in on the latest in upcoming shows. I was intrigued as soon as he mentioned Loaf playing Stache's.

The local free paper, The Other Paper, was pushing the Loaf show in the week leading up to the gig. The first local band I followed was the band Earwig. They were opening along with this band called Helium. Helium was getting a lot of attention since signing to the indie-rock label du jour Matador and featuring a member of math rock auteurs Polvo. It was going to be the indie rock happening of the spring.

Being the uncool hipster wannabe that I was, I wore my bright orange Weezer t-shirt and high school ball cap. It was the spring of 1995. My indie rock obsession was about to begin.

Earwig put on one of their more memorable shows that night. It's as if they knew that this was the show that could propel them to greater things...it ultimately wouldn't, but it felt like it could. They rocked through their set and finished with their typical closer, "Wounded Knee". This was one of those three part songs that was made to be a finale. It opened with a sparse guitar riff with plenty of space before rocking with an urgency that riled the crowd into a frenzy. The song finished off in similar fashion to the opening chords before breaking down into a punk rock deconstruction. My heart was pumping. Those around me had these wide-eyed looks of amazement on their faces. This was only the first band.

Our friend (another guy named) Brad who now plays for The Sun was raving about the next band Helium. He was a Loaf fan but was really looking forward to Helium's set. The buzz in the club was definitely about Helium.

Helium was fronted by Mary Timony who has had a solid career of her own over the last decade. The band's video which showed Timony dragging a hoe through a field had been displayed on Beavis and Butthead. The "animated" adolescent twosome of course made some comment about a "ho" as the video played.

My girlfriend bumped into Timony in the restroom. She warned my girlfriend that the stalls were a little scary. Timony later autographed a Helium t-shirt for her while Archers of Loaf played their set.

Helium's set wasn't all that energetic, but it rocked anyway. I still remember the old toy keyboard that Timony duct-taped popsicle sticks to in order to hold a note through one of their songs. I could barely make out her voice, but the band played a loud, raucous art rock. The set was able to live up to the buzz.

Archers of Loaf was up next. I had been anticipating this show for the past month when (the first) Brad had first mentioned it. He had loaned me their two full-length discs which I promptly copied. Icky Mettle and Vee Vee are still two of my favorite records to this day.

I had a spot right in front of the stage, leaning on the monitors. I was so close that bassist Matt Gentling nearly hit me several times over the bridge of my nose with the end of his instrument when he wasn't yelling a drunken "thanks" into the mic after every song. Eric Bachman, an imposing presence with his 6'5"+ frame and throaty growl yelled into the mic 24 inches to my left. Dana Carvey look-alike Eric Johnson was maybe five feet away, shredding the hell out of his guitar and distortion pedals. Mark Price was the most ordinary-looking of a band of ordinary-looking guys, but he could beat the skins into oblivion.

Archers of Loaf played a set that included their hits "Web in Front", "Harnessed in Slums", and "Wrong". During the set, Loaf played "You and Me" which led right into "Might" with a bang of the drums exactly like they had on Icky Mettle. I could see at least two other guys in the audience mouth "just like on the record" as I was thinking the same thing. They played "Audio Whore" and shook the ground beneath my feet as everyone screamed along. The band virtually played every song from their young catalog sans "South Carolina".

I saw Archers of Loaf play three more times after that and have seen Eric Bachman several times as his next incarnation, Crooked Fingers. Never did the band sound as good or rock as hard as they did that night. That show changed the way I looked at live music. There was an entire community of people who lived passionately for these regular guys playing guitars in crap dive bars. I think that I have been searching for a show like that Archers of Loaf gig for the past thirteen years. I want that high again.

So, when the kid at the Pavement show asked what he missed, I didn't have the heart to tell him what that show meant to me. I didn't have the heart to tell him that it was the greatest, most human experience of my life. So, I said it was "alright."

The Afghan Whigs with Marcy Mays

I saw the Afghan Whigs a couple of times in Columbus. Once, at the Newport, they opened their tour in Columbus.

Local heroes and the latest Central Ohio band to sign to a major label only to flop, Howling Maggie started things off. They came out in rather dramatic fashion, wearing cloaks and overusing the smoke machine. It was OK.

The Whigs, on the other hand, were great. They ripped through a set of everything from their Sub Pop days to the current release at the time, Black Love. The highlight was when Marcy Mays of Scrawl fame joined the band for a gut-wrenching performance of "My Curse."

Tppecanoe and Bob Too

I once saw Tammy and the Amps (later shortened to the Amps) open for Guided By Voices at the Southgate House in Newport, KY.

The Amps played about 2/3 Breeders' songs. These guys from above the band yelled for "Tippecanoe" through the entire set until Kim Deal obliged and played "Tipp City."

The GBV set was glorious to say the least. Bob Pollard was in his typical drunken form. This was maybe the last time I can remember audience members finishing songs for Bob near the end of his set. They unveiled "The Official Ironmen Rally Song" which I promptly purchased along with my Alien Lanes t-shirt.

The Breeders Help with "Shocker in Gloomtown"

On the same day my brother received career counseling from Bob Pollard at Lollapalooza, we saw the Breeders play. Since Bob forgot how to sing "Shocker in Gloomtown" during his set, Kim Deal asked the fellow Daytonian to join her on stage to give it another try. It worked this time.

The First Siren Festival

I attended the first Village Voice Siren Music Festival on New York's famed Coney Island in the summer of 2001.

My siblings and I plus Todd drove all night from Ohio to reach Coney Island by the morning. We had doughnuts in New Jersey before we landed on the boardwalk at Coney Island, way before the free show began.

To kill time, we walked the beach. I noticed that the sand on the beach sort of hurt my bare feet. That's when I saw some riding mower-like machine go by, picking up all the glass bottles littering the beach, except that it crushed more bottles than it actually picked up.

After taking a picture of my brother lying next to some puke, we looked in as Jon Spencer, his Blues Explosion, and their significant others set up shop backstage. Throughout the morning, several other bands shuffled their equipment in for the day's festivities. Man or Astroman parked their very-obvious van and trailer made to look like a Hazmat mobile center. We also caught a mini-set by JSBX for their sound-check.

Finally, the real music began.

We came to support Enon and Guided By Voices with their Ohio roots. Todd received several compliments for his Brainiac t-shirt. We grew very annoyed with all the hipsters pumping fists to this version of GBV. This show was way past Pollard's prime and his schtick was sort of tired.

Peaches was a highlight, in her Wal-Mart langerie and hairy armpits. No DJ. No Feist (before she was Feist.) It was just the teaches of Peaches and her sampler.

Rainer Maria seemed sort of silly to me.

I saw Quasi for the first time. Coomes and Weiss are the perfect duo of ex-spouses featuring a roxichord ever.

Superchunk put on an inspired set. This show would mark the last time I saw Superchunk, which is too bad. It was crowded and stunk of BO.

JSBX closed the show with what seemed like a 3 hour set, but it could have been the sun poisoning.

We made it as far as New Jersey that night before crashing in a hotel.

On the way home that Sunday, Todd became a vegetarian and I rediscovered Wowee Zowee. My sister and I later discovered that we were in one of the random crowd pictures from that day.

I never made it back to the Siren Festival.

Times New Viking Kicked Out My Sister

For my sister's birthday a while back, she and some friends decided to go to a Times New Viking show at Columbus' Cafe Bourbon Street. Their ulterior motive was to heckle TNV drummer Adam Elliott since he was now dating (read: stole) my sister's friend's girlfriend.

Elliott caught wind of their plan...or just saw them hanging out. So, he had management kick them out. My sister didn't even get one zinger in before being kicked to the curb. What a crummy birthday.

The Afghan Whigs Final Gig

I was there when the Afghan Whigs took the stage for the final time. The show was in their hometown of Cincinnati at Bogart's. They opened with "The Boys Are Back in Town". The rest is history.

Hey, isn't that Dave Berman?

Some friends took a road trip down to Nashville. One night at a typical Nashville joint, they saw this guy who resembled Dave Berman of the Silver Jews. Both friends were big fans of his music as well as his book of poetry.

"Hey, isn't that Dave Berman?"

Sure enough, it was Dave Berman. They hung out with Berman for the rest of the night.

When the bars closed, Berman invited the friends to join him at his place where he had some coke. Neither friend had ever tried coke, but they could not resist the opportunity to snort coke with one of their idols.

While hanging out and doing drugs, Berman's wife came out to complain about all the noise. She had been sleeping until the party moved to her home. The couple had a shouting match. The friends were beside themselves.

Later that same year, Berman had a breakdown and nearly committed suicide. He then found Judaism and has seemingly recovered from his addictions.

Will Oldham

I nearly missed my chance to appreciate Will Oldham...twice.

Palace Songs played a Lollapalooza second stage once. I don't even remember which year. Either way, I didn't pay attention.

The next time happened when I went to Stache's to see the opening band, Run On. I had seen Run On before in an opening slot for Yo La Tengo. They were really good.

Will Oldham came out with an acoustic guitar and some cheap keyboards that he laid on the floor around him. The audience actually sat on the floor. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. Who knows what lay on that floor.

It was sort of slow and this woman was picking me up, probably the first and last time that ever happened. So, we left for the Blue Danube across the street.

A few years later, I paid attention when Will Oldham returned as Bonnie "Prince" Billy. He played with Chavez's Matt Sweeney for the Superwolf tour. I'm glad I caught him this time.

______________________________________________________

My sister had a friend/roommate who used to work a Starbuck's in Columbus. One day, a Jetta pulled up with a mountain bike strapped to the trunk. The driver entered the coffee shop. My sister's friend made his latte and Will Oldham drove off.

Columbus Is a Douche Bag

I saw Built to Spill for the first time at Little Brothers in Columbus. Between songs, Doug Martsch suggested that he might share some excerpts from the book he was reading, Lies My Teacher Told Me. He was particularly intrigued by the entries about Christopher Columbus, since they were set to play the city by the same name.

He proceeded to share an excerpt from a journal kept by one of Columbus' crew members. He read, "Columbus is a douche bag."

Built to Spill then continued their stellar set.

The Walkmen and The Sun at Detroit's Magic Stick

The first time I saw The Walkmen was in Detroit. My sister and her then-boyfriend convinced me to take a road trip with them to see a band with which I was only mildly familiar. I had one half of the band's debut, Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me Is Gone, in the black LP sleeve. I'd later buy the other half that night and the entire CD a few days later.

We listened to The Walkmen and The Yeah Yeah Yeahs on the way up to Detroit Rock City. I fell in love with both bands. It also occurred to me that The Walkmen were responsible for that song on the Saturn ad.

The Magic Stick is attached to a theater by the name of Majestic and above a bowling alley/diner. The Stick contained billiard tables, a large dance floor, and a wide-yet-short stage.

The opening band was interesting. They fancied themselves rather dynamic, but their best song was a cover of that same Saturn ad song, "We've Been Had".

The second band was The Sun (or "Sun" according to a flier). This is only remarkable because The Sun are from Columbus. I had always managed to miss their sets while opening for nearly every major act that had passed through Columbus over the past year. They were considered to be the first major rock band to come out of Columbus since, well, ever. It was ironic that the first time I saw them was by accident and four hours away. The Sun were good. It's too bad that their full-length, major-label debut was released as a DVD of videos.

The Walkmen then came on and blew us away. They were all over the stage, swaggering and smiling their songs of break-ups, too much drinking, and fading hipster identities. The guitar work was acidic and the percussion rattled our bones. It amazed me that Hamilton could even speak, let alone sing after screaming every song.

An interest in a band was born out of that night that has not yet subsided. I always like shows that win my admiration for a band. This was one such night.

Chavez, Blonde Redhead, and the dude my girlfriend left me for

I once saw Blonde Redhead at Stache's in Columbus. They were really great. It was way more punk rock-like than their most recent release, 23.

The best part was that they opened up for incredible Chavez. The drummer for Chavez was maybe the most amazing being behind I kit I've ever seen.

The worst part is that the guy my girlfriend left me for was there. He actually picked up our tickets. She hung out with him while I stood up front.

Man, that guy could smack that shit out of those skins.

My Dad at the Pavement Show

The first time I saw Pavement live was in Cleveland with my sister...and my dad. Since my sister was 15 and we were heading to the big, scary city, Dad thought he'd accompany us to the show.

He enjoyed Dirty Three and their stories about the local pharmacist providing all the medication a junkie could need. They also played a stirring set of violin-based instrumentals that rocked as much as they moaned.

Fuck played next. He didn't care for them. I don't remember much more than that they didn't stick out like their name did.

The headliners finally made it to the cramped stage in the Agora Theater's ballroom. One of the members, I think Kannenberg, wore a fan-made t-shirt with ironed on letters. A few mooks stood up front with their shirts removed. The crowd moshed, but the band brought that on themselves.

While we saw a memorable set, my dad found a spot at the bar. He ordered a drink. The bartender made a joke about IDing him. Then she reached below the bar to reveal a Mason jar of clear liquid and offered him some. Wisely, Dad turned down the drink.

The Breeders and Some Annoying Opener

As a freshman in college, The Breeders were a big part of my music listening. This fan-dom was caused by a combination of MTV buzz, Nirvana praise, Pixies connections, an awakening to home-grown talent, and, most importantly, a great record. Last Splash is easily one of the best records of the 90's. This was the height of the Deal sisters' success, and I was there.

Sadly, I missed The Breeders' triumphant return to Dayton a month prior to seeing them myself. It was my sister's first concert. As they rode with her friend's worrisome parent, the girls assured their driver that it wasn't like there were going to be guns and knives at the show. Just then, they pulled up to Hara Arena, right beside the "Gun and Knife Show" banners advertising the venue's other event for the evening. They were allowed to enter anyway. For a first concert, my sister couldn't do much better than The Breeders with The Afghan Whigs, Guided by Voices, and The New Bomb Turks. Not bad.

Flash forward a few weeks in Columbus at the Newport Music Hall. I got my first chance to see The Breeders and gaze upon Kim and Kelley Deal, full of a school-boy crush on both.

Th' Faith Healers opened with a rousing set of noise and feedback. To this day, their record, Imaginary Friend, is a guilty pleasure of mine.

Then, this awful band played. It was a basic set-up of drums, bass, and guitar with exuberant front man...and a theremin. The singer pranced around and seemed to emulate Elvis as he shook his hips and shook his voice. It was wild, but annoying. The worst was when he chanted over and over "Blues Explosion, Blues Explosion". It was exhausting.

Funny thing is, that opener became one of my favorite bands of the 90's indie rock era, The John Spencer Blues Explosion. Oh well. You can't always be right.

The Breeders put on a great, great show. I moshed and rode the crowd. It was fun.

All Ages with a Curfew

Bright Eyes played what was advertised as an "all ages" show at Columbus' Newport Music Hall. I can't quite recall the year, but I know it was during the summer and it was hot.

Opener Tilly and the Wall sounded awful, but I equate this to the Newport's infamously bad sound system. Later, better sounding performances would support this assertion. The tap dancer just sounded like your upstairs neighbor stomping around his apartment.

Bright Eyes came on to thirteen-year-old screams and calls for all various ballads of teen angst and loss and whatever else Oberst laments. The set was not particularly inspired, but it cost us enough to get in that we weren't going to leave.

Then, suddenly, without warning, the lights came on and the crummy sound system was turned off. Oberst played on, eventually opting for an acoustic guitar while sitting on the monitors.

Bouncers and the management started pushing us out of the venue. I believe my brother shouted some not-so-appreciative words at the Newport folk. They ignored and sent us walking.

We ventured to several other rock shows that night, not ever feeling like we got our money's worth. It was later revealed on a Bright Eyes discussion board that the show was only scheduled to go until 10, since it was "all ages". I have since avoided "all ages" shows. However, I may reconsider once the kid is keeping me awake all night.

Beating Them with a Yardstick

I saw Archers of Loaf a couple of times at Stache's in Columbus. The second time was a letdown.

My friend's band, Monster Zero, opened the show. These jerks in front of me kept screaming for MZ to play a cool cover. MZ had played "Gold Star for Robot Boy" once while opening for Mercury Rev and Hum, but chose not to play any covers on this night.

The second band, Tuscadero, was an all-grrrl group from DC on Teen Beat. They were peppy, punky, and fresh. However, the band soon became very agitated with the same group of jerks up front. This time, instead of hollering for "cool covers", these mooks were smoking up a storm and blowing it right at the band. Normally, this is not a big deal, except for the fact that the band asked the audience before their set to hold off on smoking until they were done. The band even stopped at one point until the cigarettes were put out.

Finally, Archers of Loaf hopped on stage. I figured that there was no way that this crew of jackasses could ruin their set. I was wrong.

Loaf started off with a band, rocking through their first few songs. The crowd was rocking. I found myself in almost the same post I held a year before, right in front, just behind front man Eric Bachman's monitor.

Then it began.

The same guys who heckled my friend and blew smoke at Tuscadero were actually moshing. Sure, moshing was a regular feature of rock shows in the 1990's, but this was 1996 and it was a small, indie rock show. It wasn't the Warped Tour and that wasn't Rancid on stage.

The pushing and shoving got so bad that Bachman started cutting off songs to yell at the audience to quit. They didn't quit and the band became more and more agitated. Finally, they walked off with Bachman saying, "That's it. We're done." There was no encore.

I saw Archers of Loaf again about a year later in Cleveland at the Euclid. I was able to talk to Loaf bassist Matt Gentling about the Stache's show. He replied, "Yeah, that was bad. We needed yardsticks to beat them down."

Since that Loaf show at Stache's, I have bumped into the heckling-smoking-moshing idiots' leader at several shows. He's obnoxious. He's that guy who yells for the same song throughout a band's set and never stops. (Wait, I've done that.) The worst was the time his band opened for Guided by Voices.

Daniel Johnston

I saw Daniel Johnston perform on February 9, 2008 in Omaha at Slowdown. This, of course, does not prove that I was there, that I had heard of him first, but I did go. Then I blogged about it, pissing off one of the guys backing Johnston. (What? It was a good critique.)

Good venue that Slowdown.

One of My Favorite Venues: The Crocodile Cafe

I spent some time in Seattle during the summer of 1997. While there, I was able to catch a couple of shows at the Crocodile Cafe.

The venue was (is?) owned by Stephanie Dorgan, one-time wife of REM's Peter Buck and has been a fixture in the Seattle music scene since it opened in 1991.

There was a cafe out front, seedy bar in the back, and a small stage and dancefloor hidden behind a retractable wall. It was part of my indie rock mecca. I'm glad I was able to see some bands there.

There were two shows I attended that summer. The first was Teenage Fanclub and Bettie Serveert. Both bands put on really solid shows. Carol van Dyk has one of the best voices in the indie world and she was amiably backed by guitarist, Peter Visser.

The second show was part of an AIDS benefit show that featured Modest Mouse. MM played a short, equipment-failing set, but they rocked through material from what would become 1997's Lonesome and Crowded West.

6 Hours for 30 Minutes

Published earlier from my real blog on February 1, 2008...

I had two tickets for last night's Band of Horses show in St. Louis, but no one wanted brave the snow to see them.

Then, an eleventh-hour reply to emailed pleas gave me the permission I needed to take on Old Man Winter and make the trek to see Band of Horses. My friend TJ came through and together we headed to St. Louis.

The roads weren't actually that bad for most of the trip, but as we closed in on St. Louis, our progress slowed. It took us two hours to hit the city's outskirts which isn't far off the pace on a clear day. However, the snow was beginning to pile up and we found ourselves behind a line of snowplows that caused us to add another hour to our trip.

Somehow we found the venue, The Gargoyle, hidden in the basement of a student center on Washington University's campus. It was thirty minutes into Band of Horses' set, but we had arrived!

BoH were really solid live. Front man Ben Bridwell's voice sounded almost human without the heavily engineered effects of the band's two Sub Pop releases, but it was still powerful enough to hold its own among the guitars, bass, and drums. The band overall was tight but loose enough to cause the prerequisite head-bobbing one expects.

TJ and I had to laugh that although we had missed half of the band's set, we still got to hear the "hit", aka "The Funeral". But that wasn't even the highlight of the set. The band played a Credence Clearwater Revival b-side called "Effigy". This has to be one of my all-time favorite tracks, especially the version recorded by Uncle Tupelo for the No Alternative compilation. It was a pleasant surprise.

After the encore, we had to make our way back to highways which had only accumulated snow while we were at the Gargoyle. A drive that usually takes me just under two hours, took us over three. Between the drifts, fishtails, and iced over windshield, we were lucky to get out that quickly. It was so bad at one point that we turned onto an exit to clear the windshield and knock the ice off wipers that ended up placing us on a whole other highway.

We eventually made our way back to I-70 and back in COMO. It took us three hours to get there and three hours to get back. All that for thirty minutes of rock and roll, but it was worth it.

Ben, Thurston Moore, and Kim Gordon

My friend, Ben, once obtained the NYC phone number for punk rock couple du jour Thruston Moore and Kim Gordon. He left them a rather suave message about seeing them about or some crap like that.