What A Weekend! (Part 3 - Always Room for More Jello!)

(This is the third of a three-part post. Read parts one and two here & here.)

The weekend finished up in Baltimore, MD, at The Ottobar, a venue that has become a regular stop among my show-going friends, to once again catch Jello Biafra &
The Guantanamo School of Medicine. This was a Sunday night all-ages show, so we had no idea what sort of crowd to expect. About 200 showed up, mostly skewing older, to see Jello and three opening bands.

The first two bands up were local Baltimorians. 4 Footer was about halfway through their set when we got there, so I didn't get to see or hear enough of them to form an opinion, but what I did see was interesting. Their sound was kind of punky southern hard rock, not entirely unlike Nine Pound Hammer to my ears (and that would be a good thing!) But, by the time we had our first round of beers and staked out our space in the club, their set was over.

4 Footer
We had no idea what to expect when The Fishnet Stalkers took the stage, dressed like it was 1979 (the striped shirt/skinny tie look). What a pleasant surprise they turned out to be! Like a slightly harder-edged Chesterfield Kings, or Jagger and Richards filtered through The Dead Boys, they played tough without sacrificing melody. Playing for the hometown crowd helped, but this band is definitely one to watch - they have the chops to be big time if they choose.

The Fishnet Stalkers
Witch Hunt traveled along with Jello Biafra throughout this tour, and seeing them a second time only reinforced for me how good they are. I daresay they sounded better Sunday night than Friday. Their drummer is simply astounding, playing at hyper-thrash speeds and propelling the band through song after song without missing a beat - literally. They seemed to spend a little more time giving their between-song protest speeches on this night as well, but that is forgiven when the music is this good.

Witch Hunt
During Witch Hunt's set, we spotted Jello Biafra walking through the crowd. It was strange - very few people seemed to recognize him. Then again, I have to remember that the Dead Kennedys actually split up before many of the kids in the crowd were even born. Maybe they had never seen him live before? I decided to go over to Jello and shake his hand and thank him for thirty years of great music. In typical Jello fashion, he corrected me: "It's been thirty-two years!" he smiled, "I was 19 when we started Dead Kennedys." We talked a bit about the Philly show, and he mentioned how he is usually completely spent after a performance - which is very believable. I asked if he'd be willing to sign Dead Kennedys records, knowing that the band's split was less than harmonious. He said sure, as long as they were originals on Alternative Tentacles and not the represses through East Bay Ray's label. He directed me over to his roadie to be sure to catch him after the show.

Jello and the band ran through the same set in Baltimore as in Philly, with only minor changes in patter and pacing, and they were every bit as fantastic the second time around. As opposed to The Trocadero, where stage diving was commonplace, The Ottobar was plastered with signs saying "Absolutely No Stage Diving Whatsoever!" As a result, the crowd's energy was different, but no less positive than Philadelphia's. In fact, The Ottobar's set up, with a much lower stage and a loft off to the left, allowed Jello much more freedom to interact directly with the crowd.

Jello Biafra & The Guantanamo School of Medicine
About half an hour after the show, Jello came out to greet the dozen or so fans like us who had stuck around. He couldn't spend a lot of time with us - he desperately wanted to get something to eat and had to get on the road to Washington DC, but he spent about 10 - 15 minutes talking with everyone and signing records, always checking to make sure they were originals. I heard him tell one person who handed him a record, "I can't sign this one, this is a completely illegitimate pressing. East Bay Ray didn't even make any money off of this one!" Wonder what record that was? He wasn't nasty about it, though, and his stance on only signing original material is completely understandable.

As we filed out of the club, we met up with GSM bassist Andrew Weiss, who talked with us for about twenty minutes about his days in Rollins Band. We asked him about the band Scornflakes, which was the New Jersey-based improvisational punk band he had been in before joining Rollins. He seemed surprised that we knew of Scornflakes, since "about 10 of the 12 shows we played live were at City Gardens," a venue in Trenton, NJ, where we had seen many a show in the '80s. He was happy to talk about the old City Garden days, and mentioned that there was a Scornflakes record out there that they had recorded live. By now it was getting to be almost 1:00 AM and there was long drive home ahead of us, so after thanking Andrew for the show, we hit the road.

Amazing postscript: we had all taken Monday off from work, and we wandered into a used record shop Monday afternoon and found - of all things - the Scornflakes record! A buddy of mine took it; maybe he'll eventually get Andrew to sign it!

It was a fantastic weekend all around, filled with great bands, great music, great people and great memories. I was exhausted when it was over, but happily so. So when does the next weekend full of cool bands come around?

(Visit That's What I Was Going To Say's Facebook page for more pics from Sunday night's show.)

What A Weekend! (Part 2 - Rock 'n' Roll Girls On A Saturday Night)

(This is the second of a three-part post. Part one can be read here.)

As fantastic as Friday night's show at The Trocadero in Philly was, the weekend actually picked up steam on Saturday night. My brother and I headed to West Chester, PA, to see The Donnas with Gorevette opening (there was one other band...I'll get to them in a moment). This was the third time The Donnas came within shouting distance of Lancaster, PA in the last two and a half years, and both of the previous times they were here, plans to go see them fell through. I decided I wasn't missing them a third time. Boy am I glad I didn't!

The venue in West Chester was called The Note. It was the first time I had been there - indeed the first time I or any of my friends had ever even heard of it. Of the three places we went this weekend it was the smallest, yet this was the show that had the largest crowd. I estimated there to be about 300 - 325 people there, crammed like sardines into the long, narrow building. When you first walk in, the bar is to your right; to your left is the wall. You've got about a two-person width from that wall to the back of the bar stools (provided the two people considered are very close friends). At the far end of the bar the place widens slightly, and about four steps lead you down to the floor in front of the stage. To the left is the only access I saw to an upstairs area that I never saw. When a band is playing and the floor is packed, going up and down the stairway appears to be no easy task.

Despite the sardine-can accommodations, The Note is not an entirely uncomfortable place, and unlike many places where I have seen shows in my time, it is not in the kind of neighborhood where you take your chances getting to and from your car. We had a good chuckle at the establishment directly across the street, though: it was a barber shop in the kind of storefront that has two full-length window boxes on either side of the door, and both windows were crammed full of KISS memorabilia. Posters, LP jackets, t-shirts, mannequin heads made up like KISS - anything you could think of! So, if you're looking for the Gene Simmons haircut, I know a place...

The KISS barber shop across the street
I mentioned in Part One that first bands are often throwaway acts. The band that first took the stage at The Note Saturday night certainly followed that rule of thumb. The less said about Fatal Flaw, the better, but I feel I should try to describe how bad they were. Picture four guys who looked like they would have been far more at home at a frat party in 1992 than a Donnas show in 2010, playing light-alternative music that makes Toad The Wet Sprocket sound heavy in comparison, and you'd be picturing something better than Fatal Flaw. We couldn't figure out how they got on the bill with The Donnas; in school, The Donnas would have beaten these guys up and stolen their lunch money. They broke out every cliched rock-n-roll move you can name, from rocking the guitars back and forth in unison to the drummer twirling his sticks. My brother summed them up perfectly when he said, "These guys would get booed out of a prom!" The most positive thing I can say about Fatal Flaw is that they eventually stopped playing and left the stage.

From there, though, the evening skyrocketed! Gorevette was up next. I arrived in West Chester not knowing who Gorevette was. I will forever kick myself for not looking them up online before leaving for the show! Gorevette, it turns out, is a collaboration between Amy Gore of The Gore Gore Girls and the legendary Nikki Corvette of the classic Detroit-based bubblegum-punk band Nikki & The Corvettes. Had I realized that, I'd have shown up with a fistful of Nikki & The Corvettes records to be signed!

Amy Gore and Nikki Corvette of Gorevette
Gorevette was awesome. With Lianna Castillo on bass and Al King on drums, Amy Gore and Nikki Corvette ratcheted up the fun and energy in the club exponentially. Gore is an exceedingly talented guitarist, and Nikki Corvette bopped around the stage with her Raggedy-Ann-red hair flying, tearing through a set that included originals as well as covers of classic punk tunes like The Buzzcocks' "What Do I Get?" and The Saints' "Wild About You." Nikki also had the line of the weekend, when she told the crowd that Gorevette's CD would be available for purchase at the merchandise table, and "we'll sign it, we'll hang out, we'll drink, whatever!" What more can you ask for?

While we waited for The Donnas, I happened to overhear a conversation among the three folks directly in front of me. It seemed to be a couple and their friend. The girl asked the friend about the upstairs, and he told her that there was a bar up there, and that there was a rumor circulating that Johnny Knoxville was up there to see the show. Her eyes widened as she turned to her boyfriend and said, "I've got to get up there! Johnny Knoxville might be up there!" As she determinedly began pushing her way toward the stairway, the boyfriend deadpanned, "Oh good. Maybe if you ask him he'll stick something up his ass." OK, so maybe Nikki Corvette didn't have the line of the weekend.

The Donnas did not disappoint. For just over an hour they burned through their set. They stuck mostly to their more recent material, and that combination of punk/metal/hard rock was the perfect tonic for the crowd. Frontwoman Brett Anderson has become quite the performer over the band's sixteen year (!) history, and she worked the crowd to a fever pitch all night. At times she verged awfully close to the paint-by-numbers rock 'n' roll script (mention the town you're playing in after every other song, tell the crowd that tonight is by far the best show of the tour, do the "I wanna hear you make some noise!" routine, etc.), but there was enough of a knowing smirk behind it that you can't fault her for playing the game. And boy did the crowd respond! We all wished they would have gone longer, but this was the last night of four-stop East Coast mini-tour, and they had a 5:00 AM plane to catch.

The Donnas
Still, they came out for their encore, and this was when the "rock 'n' roll" act was completely dropped and The Donnas reverted before our eyes to the Palo Alto high school teens who decided to form a band based around their love of The Ramones and and Motley Crue. After revving the crowd up for their slightly rewritten cover of KISS's "Strutter" (hmmm...did they see the barber shop across the street?), they got through about four bars of the song when guitarist Allison Robertson's amp went silent. It was endearing to see the tough-chick swagger fall away a bit as they determined what happened. The roadie diagnosed a failed cable, hooked Allison up again, and the swagger was back in full force. Once again they launched into "Strutter," and once again, the amp went silent just as they reached the middle of the first verse. Allison could only drop her head in disbelief.

Now the swagger was completely gone, and The Donnas were suddenly four somewhat nervous girls grasping for a way to fill the time while the roadie fixed the guitar. Bassist Maya Ford told jokes, Bret Anderson giggled nervously, drummer Amy Cesari (filling in on this tour for regular drummer Torry Castellano) kept a beat going for the crowd to clap along with. They almost apologetically took their third stab at "Strutter" and this time made it all the way through. Feeling confident, it was time for one last song. They closed with "Take It Off," or at least tried to. Once again, the guitar failed! Determined to finish their set, they soldiered on with a back-up guitar, and tore the house down to close the night. It was a great, great show, technical difficulties notwithstanding.

After The Donnas were done, we made our way back to the merchandise table, where Amy Gore and Nikki Corvette were taking the time to chat with fans. I told Nikki that I wished I had brought my records for her to sign; she promised she would sign them the next time they came through the area. I picked up the Gorevette disc and a solo Nikki Corvette CD, and both Amy and Nikki were happy to sign. Got a laugh out of Amy Gore when she asked if I had put my email address on their mailing list at the table. I said I had, and then signed my name next to it, telling her, "There! Now you have my autograph, too!" They were both very friendly and great to talk with, and for as fantastic as both their set and The Donnas' set were, getting to meet Nikki Corvette and Amy Gore was the high point of the night.

Getting to meet Nikki Corvette
An hour's drive back home and another night's rest...and there was still more music ahead before the weekend would be over! Part Three will be posted tomorrow, so stay tuned...

(Visit That's What I Was Going To Say's Facebook fan page to see more pics from Saturday night's Donnas/Gorevette show. I've opted not to post the video I took Saturday night because the sound was even worse than Friday's video. If you'd like me to post it anyway, leave a comment either here or on the fan page.)

What A Weekend! (Part 1 - Friday in Philly)

It has taken me until now, Tuesday afternoon/evening, to completely process and begin to write about the past weekend. Three nights. Three cities. Nine different bands, two of them twice. Meeting and talking with four very cool musicians, two of whom are unqualified punk rock legends (one I expected to see and one who was a complete - yet pleasant - surprise!). It was a wonderful weekend filled with great music; it reaffirmed for me how much more I enjoy seeing a band in a tiny club with 200 - 300 people than in an arena with thousands. And, at an average of $15 cover per show and $4 a beer, plus $20 to pick up 2 CDs, the whole weekend took less out of my wallet than seeing some big-name band in some stadium somewhere where you need binoculars to see the band and your chances of actually meeting and talking with them are slim to none. Let me share the highlights with you.

The weekend kicked off Friday night in Philadelphia, at the fabulous Trocadero, seeing ex-Dead Kennedys frontman Jello Biafra's newest band, The Guantanamo School of Medicine. (Many years ago, friends and I got into the habit of always calling it "the fabulous Trocadero." Given it's history - dating back to 1870 as a vaudeville theater, through the middle 20th century as a burlesque house, to its current incarnation since the 1980s as a club where many a Punk Rock show has taken place - it just deserves more than simply "the Trocadero...") Probably about 300 people were in attendance Friday for an all-ages show that featured three opening bands.

Mirrors and Wires
When we arrived, Mirrors and Wires were already into their set. Wish I would have caught them from the beginning. As a rule, first acts are kind of throwaways; in this case, they left me wanting to hear more. Playing all instrumental psychedelic punk material, the band delivered a solid performance. I see that they have a couple of releases under their belt; may have to check them out. Up next was Common Enemy, a local thrash band who were unfortunately just not my cup of tea, mainly due to the garbage-disposal vocals which made every song sound pretty much the same. But the band had a strong fan base among the kids in attendance, and to their credit, they got the crowd moving. Always does this old punk's heart good to see the youngsters out there slamming in the pit like we used to in the old days...

Common Enemy
Witch Hunt took the stage next, and impressed the hell out of me. This was my first time hearing the local Philly band, and I'm kicking myself for not picking up their CD. The four-piece band (two girls, two guys) blasted out energetic hyper-speed material interspersed with mini-speeches about the injustices of the world. Call their stuff emo-thrash, I guess, but I loved it and so did the hometown crowd.

Witch Hunt
Then it was time for Jello. I was very excited to see Jello perform live - I was lucky enough to catch the Dead Kennedys in Charlottesville, VA in 1985 on what would be their last tour before splitting up in the wake of Biafra's obscenity trial, and they have always ranked among my all-time favorite bands. The current band playing with him includes Ralph Spight (from Victim's Family), Andrew Weiss (ex-Rollins Band), Jon Weiss (ex-Helios Creed) and Kimo Ball (from Freak Accident), and the new material from GSM's debut The Audacity of Hype compares very favorably with anything Jello has done in his myriad musical collaborations since the DKs disbanded. The band is tight and powerful, and Jello is mesmerizing as ever on stage. Pacing, frothing, sneering, pantomiming lyrics, ballyhooing and pontificating between songs, Biafra commands your attention unlike any other performer I've ever seen. He hasn't lost a step since 1985.

In fact, the whole performance in Philly was like a Punk Rock time machine taking me back to 1985. The kids were stage diving and crowd surfing (yes, the club allowed it - more about that in a moment), the pit was constantly swirling, and the energy was positive. The band played for almost an hour and forty-five minutes, giving us all the new material and - to the elation of everyone from the old fogies like me to the kids in the pit - a handful of Dead Kennedys' classics: "California Über Alles," "Let's Lynch The Landlord," "Holiday In Cambodia" and, in the second of two encores, "Bleed For Me" were all played as solidly and as well as the original band played them back in the day. I felt the urge to dive into the pit myself, but thankfully the voice in the back of my head reminded me I'm not 18 anymore!

Jello Biafra
About the stage diving. I have not been to a show where the club allowed stage diving in at least 20 years. Most clubs forbid it because it is possible to get hurt, and the club would then of course be liable. In fact, during Friday night's show, we saw two kids land badly. The first did a sort of feet-first leap into the crowd and hit the floor hard; the bouncers helped him off to the side, but he seemed more shaken up than banged up, and he was back in the mix in short order. The second, however, took the headfirst dive and came down where there were not enough people to properly catch him. He was carried off to the side and attended to by the bouncers; at one point I caught a glimpse of him and he had one heck of a knot on the side of his forehead. After the show, I asked one of the bouncers how that kid was. "He took a header," the bouncer told me. "I expected him to be leaving in an ambulance, but he walked out of here on his own." I told him how surprised I was that they were allowing the stage diving; he said the band had requested no barriers at the stage and they had to respect the band's wishes, but they were concerned, too.

Hoping to meet Jello and maybe get some records signed, we hung around for twenty minutes or so after the show, talking briefly with the road crew. The Trocadero staff let us hang out for a bit even after they pretty much herded everyone else out, but it was late and we had a 90-minute drive ahead of us, and when word came that the band had high-tailed it out of there, we did the same.

A great night of music in Philly, a great deal of fun, and had that been the only show I saw this weekend, it would have been enough. But the weekend was just getting started...stay tuned for Part 2 tomorrow!

Below is some video I attempted to take Friday night. Unfortunately, the sound is horribly distorted (cheap video camera too close to the amplifiers!), so it is virtually unlistenable - I highly recommend turning the volume way down. Still, the visual is there and gives you a sense of the energy in the club.

Visit That's What I Was Going To Say's fan page on Facebook to see more pics from the show...