Saturday 10/29/05
One thing I love about Halloween is that it seems to bring out the inner slut in normally less adventurous ladies. Tits are thrust up and out, and skirts rise to levels that would make Daisy Duke blush. This, coupled with tons of liquor and peoples� overall sense of permission to be someone else for a night, found me hiding away, muttering my mantra for the evening � �girlfriend sick at home � girlfriend sick at home.�
If I didn�t, I might have been tempted to take up one of the many offers I received during the evening. Like the one from the two buxom hotties who were right in front of me the entire set (during which I poured water in them and on them) who mentioned something about some wild partying going on later. Or I could�ve hopped in a limo with a friend who I knew would have something crazy going on for the next day or so.
There were some great costumes on the guys as well, though they were thankfully less revealing. There were two Angus Youngs in the crowd during our set. One was in Problem Child, the other was about 7 feet tall with a giant guitar to match. Stevie Ramone, whose wedding we played a while back, showed up dressed as Joey. I was a bit jealous, as his wig was better than mine! I gotta find out where he got it.
Even though I had to be Joey for the show, I had decided that I needed a costume for the rest of the evening. So I bought a green jacket at the Army-Navy store, shaved my head into a mohawk, and went as Travis Bickle, Robert DeNiro�s character in �Taxi Driver�. All night people were snapping pictures of me in this getup. One guy, apparently afraid to approach me and ask to take a picture, snapped a few shots of me through the glass front doors while I was sitting at a table in the front of the club.
As I�ve said before, I�m not a big fan of these all tribute band shows. One reason is the cheese factor involved. It�s like being in a bad drag show. Another is the fact that there really isn�t a big crossover between Ramones fans and fans of most other bands that have tributes.
It�s not that I don�t like the other bands that were on the bill. They�re all pretty good at what they do, and all seem to be decent people. I just feel we do better playing with original bands. There�s a different kind of energy. Plus I get to check out something new.
The main problem is trying to reach the fans of the other bands, many of whom have never even heard of the Ramones. I happen to be a big fan of Iron Maiden, as well as the Ramones, but I realize I am in the minority. Iron Maiden and the Ramones, though both loud guitar based rock, belong together on the same bill about as much as Rush and Nirvana would. Even weirder would�ve been if Vital Idol, who we replaced on the bill under mysterious circumstances, were in that slot.
Another factor working against us was the fact that almost none of the promotion for the show listed us as being on the bill. It all listed Vital Idol, who we had replaced on the bill over a month previous. As a matter of fact, I seem to remember this show was originally supposed to be Vital Idol, the Misfats, and us. I have no idea what the story is. All I know is that we played and Vital Idol didn�t.
Oh yeah � I almost forgot to mention that there were other directly competing shows about town. I�m glad that people are going out to see us and other tribute bands, but what has this city come to when there are AC/DC and Misfits tributes playing different clubs the same night? The Spits (who we share a big crossover fan base with) had a cross-dressing Misfits tribute called Glen or Glenda opening for them at the Fun House. Wish I could�ve seen that show. And of course Hell�s Belles played El Corazon. So not only was our following either uninformed or occupied elsewhere, but the potential draws of Problem Child and the Misfats were decimated.
Still, some folks got the message. The crowd of 200 or so people seemed to dig us, though once again our early slot (2nd of four bands) doomed us to a certain amount of opening band-itis. The worst for me was upon noticing a bunch of people in front singing along with �Beat on the Brat�. I put the microphone in front of them, expecting the usual big scream-along. Instead about half of them took two steps back, like I just shoved a rotting trout in front of them. The other half just started yelling incoherently. I felt like a total douche. Oh well � serves me right for doing such a dorky thing in the first place.
The rest of the night found me chatting with a couple of guys I just started jamming with in an original band, and coaching a shy Dan in the art of feeling up a girl who thrusts her jugs in your face. It seems Dan had an admirer that night, but is not used to women being so brazen in their approach. Dan also doesn�t drink enough to just get crazy and let the chips fall where they may. It saves him the odd ass kicking, but prevents him from ending up in some of the crazy situations I do. I�ll admit that walking through Belltown dressed as Satan at 9 am on a Sunday after playing Pictionary all night with a bunch of coked out lunatics isn�t for everyone. There is a happy medium though. Dan just needs to find it.
The weirdest part of the night for me actually occurred just before load in. Dan and I were dropping off an amp Mark (who filled in for a sick Marci) bought from him. As I parked on 1st Ave, �Don�t Go Breaking My Heart� by Elton John and Kiki Dee came on the radio. I�m a sucker for 70s pop, so the song was stuck in my head for the next hour or so. At some point, I started singing bits of the song, right there on 1st Ave, much to Dan�s bemusement. I couldn�t help but wonder � How the hell did this Jersey boy end up in the middle of Seattle dressed like Travis Bickle, carrying a guitar amp in one hand, suitcase in the other, singing �Don�t Go Breaking My Heart�?
So overall the night was a success. We all had fun, and made a few bucks along the way. Still I can�t help but wonder what things would have been like if the deck wasn�t so stacked against us.