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.

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.

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.

Bob Pollard's Drunk Again

Bob Pollard has been known to drink a lot while performing on stage with his band, Guided By Voices. I saw him last one song with another band, The Flaming Lips.

The band packed itself onto the tiny stage at Stache's and began to rip through "Motor Away" as Pollard joined them with a beer in hand. The problem was that Bob was singing but there were no vocals to be heard. Eventually, he figured out that the mic had been switched off.

As Mr. Pollard literally slumped to another side of the stage (a spot in which he'd stay the rest of the evening), Wayne Coyne asked if he had forgotten the words to the song.

Career Advice from Bob Pollard

The first time I ever saw Guided by Voices was on the second stage at Lollapalooza in 1994. They were supporting Bee Thousand which should be on every one's top-ten of all-time, no excuses.

After GBV put on an electric set in the hot, summer sun, Bob ended up hanging out at the second stage's merch booth. The drunkard of an indie rock genius struck up a conversation with my brother. Nate told Bob that he was heading to Wright State (Bob's alma mater) in the fall to major in elementary education (again, Bob's major). Pollard proceeded to tell my brother what a great profession teaching was. Of course, just as Bob had, Nate eventually gave up this dream and now plays in bands in Dayton.

I didn't get to meet Bob Pollard. Instead, I met Adam Duritz of Counting Crows just before he leaped into the mosh pit for the Flaming Lips set on the second stage.

Licked

I have been licked twice by strangers at shows. Coincidentally, both shows were Guided By Voices concerts.

The first was a GBV show at Columbus heavy metal venue, Alrosa Villa. Opening up for GBV were longtime local favorites Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments and New Bomb Turks. The Slave Apartments came on before I was officially licked.

My friends and I were stationed right in front of the stage as was usual for me in my college years. New Bomb Turks' front man Eric Davidson made a b-line for the fresh-faced boy in the indie rock t-shirt: me. Before I knew it, Davidson licked the side of my face (or licked his hand and wiped it on my face - I've never really been sure). The band continued to play with the Iggy-like singer belting away some punk rock poetry.

It was either later in the song or another song all together when Davidson returned to my spot in front of the stage. He leaned over and began pointing frenetically at his cheek. I looked at him and then to my friends. No one knew what he wanted from me. I didn't either, but I reacted anyway by licking the man's sweaty face.

My friends were horrified, especially my girlfriend, but I didn't really care.

The second time I was licked at a rock show was a couple years later at a GBV show in Dayton.

I was down to my last two cigarettes when a woman who had been taking pictures on the stage asked me for one of those cancer sticks. She appeared to be some mid-to-upper-thirties groupie who had probably seen some wild parties in her days. I protested, but she said that she'd make it worth my while. I told her not to bother and that she could just have the cigarette free of charge.

I handed her the cigarette and she asked me for a light. I promptly held up my lighter but had to take it back when I realized the drunkard was holding the cigarette backwards. Against my better judgment, I turned the cigarette around the right way and lit if for her.

The woman was so appreciative that she reached for my head to lay one on me. I quickly turned my head only to receive the painful shock of her tongue half way down my ear canal.

My friends pointed and laughed. There aren't enough Q-tips in the world to clean the slobber of an over-the-hill groupie-photographer-wannabe from one's ear.

Guided By Voices rocked both nights, by the way.