Unmistakably weird things have been happening lately, and all I can say is that I'm no longer the morbidly submissive yes-man that I was before. This can only be proven (to myself, as well as you) through continuing to document my "coming out" into society. Be assured that things are changing however awkwardly, uncomfortably, and even somewhat painfully, for the better.
Thursday night it was back to the Trolley Stop. No pit stop at Hooters this time. Quite boring there. Having arrived at Trolley a little early, there was an open seat at the bar toward the far end from the stage. Instead of the music, the night began with several pints of Amber Bock and much hooting and cheering with "the guys" at that Japanese game show where contestants run across obsacles designed to make them fall and hit their faces on stuff. The first episode was funny, but only several minutes into the second one the novelty quickly wore off. I did strike up a decent conversation with the guy next to me about one of the performers who uses a bass and a looping thingy to record several layers of him playing over himself into a funk/techno-esque beat. We got talking about raves, he gave me this website for more info. I'll have to go to one. He records music too, and we got talking comparing our setups.
He left around 11:30, and the acoustic music just wasn't cutting it for me. I was feeling frisky, so out the door I went in search of something a little more upbeat. After ducking into several nearby establishments, all with nothing going on, I happened upon the Night Owl. Their stage is right by the front door, so as you walk by, through the glass front you're looking at the drummer's back. A band was setting up doing their checks, and the drummer was kicking some serious percussive ass, so after a little grooving out on the sidewalk I went in. It was a local band called Sizter Machyne. Once they kicked into full swing around midnight, I have to say I found what I was looking for. These guys weren't just another garage band. Professionalism all the way. Tight and coherent playing, and each of these guys could solo like motherfuckers. The bassist soloed for a solid 5 minutes, and damn was it cool. At one point I went up to the bassist and said "I started growing my hair out last spring for two reasons: Bohemian Rhapsody, and the right band. Play something that'll splatter my brains on the back wall." And they did. "Head Like a Hole". Sweet Jesus, what a musical mitzvah. I think I liked their version better than NIN's recording.
Anyways, with successive Coor's Lights, my sway turned into a bop. The bop turned into a move. And after enough beer, the moving in my seat became a full out headbang up by the stage. Fuck if I cared. There were only the band's entourage there and a few stray drunks like me. Jesus was there too. Come to find out he's a total metal head. (there are a shocking number of 20-something Jesus lookalikes here in Dayton)
So after being thorougly exhausted (and nearing 2 am) the band announced their last song. I figured last song, why not interact with my fellow revellers a little. A lady, whom I had seen with another guy in the back, was sitting at the front of the bar right by the stage cheering the band on. I figured "Sometimes, Joel, you just have to say 'what the fuck'." So I gave a little flirt:
Me: Last song. Do you dance?
Her: Yeah, a little.
Me: I can't at all. Want to?
Her: Nah. Thanks though.
Me: Ok. Have fun.
Not like I was trying to pick her up or anything. I just wanted to dance. Instead, I stumbled around with Mr. Christ, who seemed greater than or equal to my own level of drunkenness. Afterward, I congratulated the lead singer/guitarist and thanked him for a fantastic show. No Waffle House for me. It was getting late, I was getting tired, and my tummy was getting upset. Why, oh why, didn't I eat before drinking?
Work Friday morning was a real treat. I felt like death warmed over with a case of cotton mouth from hell. It's now Saturday. My neck is stiffer than a 2x4. Tonight there's a celtic rock band at the Dublin Pub. I'm gonna try to talk Caro into going. Time to dust off the ol' Utilikilt.
Thursday night it was back to the Trolley Stop. No pit stop at Hooters this time. Quite boring there. Having arrived at Trolley a little early, there was an open seat at the bar toward the far end from the stage. Instead of the music, the night began with several pints of Amber Bock and much hooting and cheering with "the guys" at that Japanese game show where contestants run across obsacles designed to make them fall and hit their faces on stuff. The first episode was funny, but only several minutes into the second one the novelty quickly wore off. I did strike up a decent conversation with the guy next to me about one of the performers who uses a bass and a looping thingy to record several layers of him playing over himself into a funk/techno-esque beat. We got talking about raves, he gave me this website for more info. I'll have to go to one. He records music too, and we got talking comparing our setups.
He left around 11:30, and the acoustic music just wasn't cutting it for me. I was feeling frisky, so out the door I went in search of something a little more upbeat. After ducking into several nearby establishments, all with nothing going on, I happened upon the Night Owl. Their stage is right by the front door, so as you walk by, through the glass front you're looking at the drummer's back. A band was setting up doing their checks, and the drummer was kicking some serious percussive ass, so after a little grooving out on the sidewalk I went in. It was a local band called Sizter Machyne. Once they kicked into full swing around midnight, I have to say I found what I was looking for. These guys weren't just another garage band. Professionalism all the way. Tight and coherent playing, and each of these guys could solo like motherfuckers. The bassist soloed for a solid 5 minutes, and damn was it cool. At one point I went up to the bassist and said "I started growing my hair out last spring for two reasons: Bohemian Rhapsody, and the right band. Play something that'll splatter my brains on the back wall." And they did. "Head Like a Hole". Sweet Jesus, what a musical mitzvah. I think I liked their version better than NIN's recording.
Anyways, with successive Coor's Lights, my sway turned into a bop. The bop turned into a move. And after enough beer, the moving in my seat became a full out headbang up by the stage. Fuck if I cared. There were only the band's entourage there and a few stray drunks like me. Jesus was there too. Come to find out he's a total metal head. (there are a shocking number of 20-something Jesus lookalikes here in Dayton)
So after being thorougly exhausted (and nearing 2 am) the band announced their last song. I figured last song, why not interact with my fellow revellers a little. A lady, whom I had seen with another guy in the back, was sitting at the front of the bar right by the stage cheering the band on. I figured "Sometimes, Joel, you just have to say 'what the fuck'." So I gave a little flirt:
Me: Last song. Do you dance?
Her: Yeah, a little.
Me: I can't at all. Want to?
Her: Nah. Thanks though.
Me: Ok. Have fun.
Not like I was trying to pick her up or anything. I just wanted to dance. Instead, I stumbled around with Mr. Christ, who seemed greater than or equal to my own level of drunkenness. Afterward, I congratulated the lead singer/guitarist and thanked him for a fantastic show. No Waffle House for me. It was getting late, I was getting tired, and my tummy was getting upset. Why, oh why, didn't I eat before drinking?
Work Friday morning was a real treat. I felt like death warmed over with a case of cotton mouth from hell. It's now Saturday. My neck is stiffer than a 2x4. Tonight there's a celtic rock band at the Dublin Pub. I'm gonna try to talk Caro into going. Time to dust off the ol' Utilikilt.
posted by Grover at 2/12/2005 08:13:00 AM
3 Comments:
Sounds like you had a decent night there. Though I'd advise slightly fewer beverages if repeated. LOL
I do love bass solos, very rare to see it done. There's an excellent one in Bouree by Jethro Tull, and I just listened to Know Your Enemy by Rage Against The Machine - that has some amazing guitar work in it.
Mind you, for my own personal tastes, I'd definitely go to that celtic rock thingy, sounds great.
Been there, done that, I understnad totally. The next morning is great isn't it? (sarcasim). I'm getting too old for that. Takes me two days to recover now.
Hey man, this is Chrys from Sizter Machyne. Thanx for the kind words. It means a lot when someone who enjoys the show tells others. Next time you're at a show... come say 'Hi'. I'll get the Coors light. :)
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