– The WFMU record fair was a good time, despite a male-to-female ratio which bordered that of a Shellac concert. In fact, come to think of it, the only females I saw in the room were helping their husbands out at their tables, or serving food and beer. I didn’t make any large purchases, but spent a week’s pay on roughly fifteen records (including Galaxie 500’s On Fire for $6, and some super-cheap Krautrock LPs). Ian and I were severely out-geeked by most of the population. We met a guy from North London who had taken off from work to fly to New York for the week. He showed us how he compiles the prices of all the records he desires from various sources, then charts their market values. Sure, his computer-generated graphs looked cool, but…you know.
– While Ian had dinner with his old lady, I raced to Piano’s to see Call Me Lightning. I got there just in time, thanks to the band not being able to locate their drummer. When they took the stage I thought maybe the schedule changed, as I mistook them for a Lower East Side “hair cut rock” band, not a thunderous rock trio from Wisconsin. They quickly defused my anxiety, though, with a furious forty-minute set. Finely utilized stop-n-go rhythms, spazzy guitar parts and mountainous drums. Wow, the drummer was awesome. Also, the guitarist kept screaming “Hey!” at random people and making goofy rock star faces. They picked up momentum as they progressed. The last two songs were easily the best of the night. I don’t know the names of their songs, but they played a bunch! Here are two pictures: one | two
– Ian showed up about two minutes after they left the stage. Sucker. I hadn’t eaten, so we went to San Loco. When we got back, somethingsomething Guillotine was finishing a lousy set. Ian opened a bar tab and informed me of the $35 minimum, so we worked on getting a nice buzz during Rahim’s set…or whatever their name was. Total wuss-rock. We left the French Kiss showcase before the goofy indie kids showed up for Thunderbirds Are…Not Very Good, and decided to hoof it over to Knitting Factory.
– The Sick Room Records showcase was wild. We walked in, and a band was playing violin-infused instrumental rock. As the next band set up, I found Rich and we chatted. Then Ian and I ducked out for a few minutes. We got back just in time to see the second-to-last band, whose name I don’t recall. They were from Salt Lake City. As soon as they launched into the first tune, things got tense. Waaaaaay too loud. The sound-kid (who couldn’t have been older than 20) quickly ran to the front of the stage and tried to tell one of the guitarists to turn his amp down. He was ignored, so he raced out of the room. He came back with two huge bouncers and some folks who – I guess – run the venue. They argued, and concluded that if the band didn’t turn down, they’d turn off all the monitors and the PA. I think they ended up using only the two vocal microphones, and set them at an inaudibly low level. At the end of their set (which they dragged out just to piss off the staff), they were swiftly told to pack up their gear and leave.
– Bear Claw stormed the stage with two Ampeg stacks for the basses, and a large Ludwig vistalite drum kit with lamps clipped to the stands for extra eerie glow effect. They played maybe seven or eight songs, including two or three new ones. They were not as loud as the previous band, but still very loud. As their set progressed, the sound-kid was seen burying his head in his arms and holding his ears. Poor fella. They seemed to be in good spirits, despite the fact that there were only seven people left in the room when they started, and I think Ian and I were the only two that weren’t either Sick Room-related or in another band. Oh well. As the set ended, I ran up and commended Rich, we shook hands and then I left. Here are a few photos. one | two | three
