Sunday, September 18, 2011

moe.down xii, 9/2, 3, & 4/11, Gelston Castle Estate, moe.hawk, NY

moe.down xii, 9/2, 3, 4/11, Gelston Castle Estate, moe.hawk, NY


DISCLAIMER: I do not remember all the music at moe.down xii. Let's just get that out of the way right now.

FRIDAY, 9/2/11

Thursday's important pre-.down sleep was stunted by excitement, adrenaline, and some serious stress about dealing with the motherfucking hill loading-in from parking lot #1 to the campsite. Last year it landed me some Heat Stroke and a Migraine, which is everyone's favorite way to start a Festival Weekend. Pre-.down last year, no one had mentioned any mountai-- hills at the new venue, so we did it up as per the usual and paid dearly for it. The crew packed lighter & smarter this year, while still allowing for all proper supplies that go along with a Late Summer / Early Fall / All Climate / Rain or Shine festival like moe.down. I bagged the EZ Up and turned to my trusty (and much lighter) tarp/pole system. I had everything I needed, except for my flask, which was accidentally left sitting upside-down in the drainboard at home. Fuck. Note to self: next year put FLASK on the list!

We were at the gates by 9AM and spent about 10 minutes in line before being corralled along the already-muddy path to Parking Area #1. It was time for our v1 trip up the infamous Trail of Tears. We were a'scurred. No, really. This year, the initial path up the hill was wider, flatter, and had no loose gravel, which did help (last year it was really hard to get footing on the gravel, and seeing how my wagon weighed more than me on 2 of the trips, Gravity won that battle). I wondered if this path-development was done on purpose or was actually just carved out by Hurricane Irene the previous week. Also helping this year-- I asked one of the boys to just do the initial hill climb portion with the wagon for me. Thanks, guys. Chivalry ain't dead.



And then came the "Fascist Security Checkpoint", which was still incredibly thorough this year, and at 9:30AM was bottlenecked with at least one full hour's wait to get into the campsite. Fucking seriously. An hour. Dude's going through wallets, blah blah blah. Sunblock's a good thing, people. By the time we got through, once again, the area mapped on the official moe. map as the "Quiet Side", which is the closest area to the entrance/exit gate--- was pretty much full and looking (again) like it wasn't gonna be so quiet. That map is so full of lies, your brain asplode. This year, we had a location plan. It took a little bit of walking, but after crossing past the vendors in the main intersection, walking and walking, there was high ground & plenty of peaceful acreage as far as the eye could see. You know why? Cuz after the fucking Trail of Tears, no one wants to walk that far. But those of us who did, were definitely rewarded, cuz we had a great little neighborhood that filled in around our cul-de-sac, despite the no less than 3 Grateful Dead cover bands in the immediate vicinity.




You can imagine how psyched we were when with the help of abundant Teamwork (and a ground softened by 6-10 inches of rain in the previous week that made using a mallet overkill), we were all loaded-in and set up before 1PM. Ben gets the **moe.down xii MVP** Award for taking at least 37 trips to the cars to help everyone with his handy wheelbarrow-- Ben also runs marathons. This gave us plenty of time to rest, eat, shower, and rest, in attempt to conquer the OTHER hill-- that motherfucker inside the venue, with the stages at the bottom, which we'd have to contend with all weekend. I'm not in terrible physical condition, but that fucking hill is a monster, especially after the haul of load-in. Eyeing the schedule, I realistically mapped out which bands I'd be watching from the top of it. I planned on watching every moe. set at the bottom, and in order to physically make that happen, I'd have to prioritize trips and enjoy bands from the top. That kinda sucks.








moe.down MVP, Ben!



Shit, speaking of music! We could hear funky mop topped Brits The New Mastersounds okay from camp, so we didn't get off our tired asses and head in for music until Ween. For yeeeears, I've been saying Ween should play the .down, and I'm so glad they finally did! What a spectacularly fun set! Perfectly designed for the crowd, focused Rock, jammy bits, and high energy. Ween shredded the fuck out of their 90 minutes. It's great to see those boys healthy and happy. It was also the closest I've ever gotten to the stage at a Ween show, because I'm usually too afraid of drunk hippie-hating assholes who shove me around and may potentially punch me in the face when they realize I'm wearing a Phish t shirt. Luckily, this was a friendly moe.Ween crowd, lots of love, shared brown vibes, understanding, ample elbow room, and very little (if any) violence. Also, I was not wearing a Phish t shirt.




After a New Mastersounds set that I do not recall (probably my own fault), moe. took the stage! People were psyched and they scorched their first set of moe.down xii. Highlights: Down Boy -> Skrunk -> George. A fucking fantastic Where Does the Time Go. The nostalgia in the air went to 12. -> a fierce Dr. G., sweet Deep This Time -> a mind shredding 32 Things. FUCK YEAH. 1st set had me PUMPED. Holy shit did my feet hurt. The second they started the Plane Crash encore, I used it as my cue to start walking back. I aimed for either camp or a grilled cheese, I can't be certain at this time. Whatever it was, the crew were all psyched for what was a sick start to moe.down xii. That set got us all sorts of FIRED UP and we were ready for more! Just as soon as it was safe to take some more Advil.



I heart Chuck.

and I miss Rob's hair.



9/2/11
Captain America, Down Boy > Skrunk -> George, Where does the Time Go -> Dr. Graffenberg, Deep This Time -> 32 Things

ENCORE:
Plane Crash

DOWNLOAD THE SET! (Thanks, Scott Bernstein!): http://www.archive.org/details/moe2011-09-02.fob.tlm170.flac16

SATURDAY, 9/3/11

Saturday began comfortably. The weather was nice, the Hood was pleasant, and Railroad Earth were gonna rock a morning set. The crew slowly crawled out of their caves and began to motivate. Dave's Mini-Donuts/Dani's Magic Beans (in the turquoise booth near the mansion), was serving The Best Coffee in all of moe.ville throughout the weekend. They were also giving away free samples of their made-to-order delectable Apple Cider Mini Donuts. And of course, the Loaded Grilled Cheese, which they will customize by say, leaving out the middle layer of bread, so you can fill up on the doubled amount of cheese, bacon, and tomatoes instead of extraneous wheat. YESSSS. Smashing!


The acoustics at the top of the hill are pretty good and Railroad Earth rocked, but watching from the top of the hill removes you from at least half the energy that any band is pumping out from the stage. Call me old, but I still enjoyed the set from the comfort of the top with my fresh cup of coffee. Besides, I needed alcohol in me before taking that first trip down -> rock out -> back.





Speaking of alcohol, Everyday Heroes Anna & Ling (aka Bog Wook!!! Small world!) were kind enough to grab me a new flask on a trip into town! This was greatly appreciated, as I am allergic to beer, and my supply of strictly medicinal Tequila would need to be administered inside the grounds via an easily stashable vessel. THANK YOU ANNA & LING!!! MAD HUZZAHS!!

moe.'s Saturday afternoon sets are a refreshing jolt of energy to push you through the rest of the weekend. With Friday night's set still fresh in (most of) our minds, the excitement of what would come next was palpable. The answer was a fun, strong, family-friendly afternoon set, complete with a Nebraska themed Kid's Tent Parade. moe.'s Japanese artist friend also joined them for the day set, painting a moe.down/mohawk piece on a wooden board, al.side. This was very fun to watch evolve, especially the moments when Al's shredding guitar solos brought him mere inches from the dude, who would casually look over with a glowing smile. Puebla, Mar DeMa -> Timmy Tucker was some groovin', dark, energetic, fun.







Preparing for impending weather (aka Bob Weir, read on…), moe. had already lowered the top of their stage. Adding to the safety & beauty of it all, there were no backdrops hanging behind the boys to create a sail for high winds. Instead, the crowd got to enjoy a peaceful view of some gorgeous trees on the Estate. At night they were lit very simply- enough to remind you they were there, and they were real. It had quite an elegant effect. Trees rule, brah.

Floodwood, Al & Vin's bluegrassy stomp, took over the side stage as soon as moe.'s set ended. They were a lot of fun/spirited with a certain clarity threaded through the music, and are pretty damn fluid for a brand new band. I'm not so hot on Slightly Stoopid, so it was time for the trek back to camp, to rest up for a long night of more goodness (probably with a quick detour for a Block Factory Tamale, because they were so so good).


If you think I have any clear recollection of what went on until we went back in to see TV On The Radio, you are wrong. Photos indicate a lot of sitting. TV On The Radio were really good, very different, with an interesting tone. It was another set I would have liked to have been down near the stage for, possibly getting my face melted, but did not make the trip. I hate walking up and down that fucking hill, alright? My feet were already swollen and the .down was still young. Don't judge. I definitely enjoyed this set from the top of the hill, undoubtedly with some yummy food. Really wishing for a gondola.





No gondolas appeared. What the eff, Universe? As soon as Good Trip started, we dragged our weary shit-asses back down the mountai-- hill. The hill. It's not so bad. It's fine. What hill? Found some nice real estate on chuck.side for a sweet and rockin' Akimbo. Downward Facing Dog was just fucking dirty. The back half of that song is so balls out. Tubing the River Styx -> The Pit was, as always, fucking evil, and fucking awesome. Goddamn, I love moe.. Haze featured Rob on lead vocals, which I totally dug, but definitely sent a wave of confusion through all of us geeks, as we typically hear Al sing that one. -> a sweet and lovely Rebubula! Love me a moe.down Rebubula!




We spent setbreak getting even better real estate up on chuck.side and ran into some fervent supporters of Screaming Chicken, our chosen moe.ville Mayoral Candidate. One of the dude's Screaming Chicken impersonation was pitch-perfect and dead-on-- he had surely practiced. I had to capture it on film. Please watch the magic in Screaming Chicken Presents: Best of moe.down xii's Caught On Tape moe.ments below! SQUAAAAAAWWWK!!!

Screaming Chicken? Wait, huh? Last year, John "el herno" Hannon (aka, "The Wookie Paul Begala") ran Screaming Chicken for Mayor. As per the usual, a combo-candidate named Chicken McFisty was created, but lost in a fiery blaze of glory to one Rage Lincoln who then managed to spill a beer in Rob's pedals before getting off stage. Later that night, Rage bought a spent Nitrous tank in the campsite cuz he thought it was full, and was never to be heard from again.

Screaming Chicken's 2011 Campaign Team had a lot of fun in the months leading up to the .down, as creating and distributing propaganda was some sort of distraction from our everyday lives and seemed like a fairly easy way to amuse ourselves and annoy other people (done and done!) while ALSO getting ourselves pumped for the .down. However, to be perfectly honest, once we got there, we were more focused on enjoying our weekend with each other (and moe.), as opposed to getting a rubber chicken elected to public office. So it goes! I'll point out here that there was some dude in front of the stage all weekend with a rubber chicken on a stick that had American flags sticking out of it's mouth. We don't know if this was just a patriotic coincidence or one of Screaming Chicken's ardent supporters, but we simultaneously thank them for their devotion and apologize to anyone who's view may have been blocked. Screaming Chicken cannot be held responsible for the actions of it's devoted followers.

"The Wookie Paul Begala"

SET III. WOWZA!!! What a high velocity, turbo powered, incredibly pumped up powerhouse set!! HUGE. Meat -> Don't Fuck w/ Flo -> this is where some dudes in front of me kept calling Lazarus and wouldn't stop insisting upon it for like 2 minutes they wouldn't shut up "OMG LAZARUS" "DUDE THIS IS LAZARUS" "IT'S TOTALLY LAZARUS". I finally butted in for fun, suggesting it was actually an extended tease into Yodelittle--- and then they got TOTES moe.own'd by a girl a minute later, cuz -> A GREAT Yodelittle!! Oh, boys. THEN we got the -> Lazarus-- fucking fantastic! Great combo! Total moe.ron mind fuck! Love it!

I had been kind of nervous about the next time I'd hear Four, ever since my dog passed away in July, fearing the chorus would send me into a fit of bawling. Instead, it was triumphant and beautiful, and I made it through the whole thing (choruses and all) with a good feeling and a smile on my face. So that was awesome. And I miss my Milligan Hound more than anything, but making it through Four without crying = Baby Steps! Suc-cess! Annnd breathe... -> a sweet Buster.




It took about 15+ minutes for them to set up the iPads so they could bust out Crab Eyes for the digital age. It was pretty cool, very silly, and I mostly enjoyed how hard Vin was concentrating while poking the iPad rhythmically. Very cute. I was psyched it didn't end there, because they busted out a totally dark, evil, rockin' Bearsong to close out the night. Fucking HUGE night. I love moe.! Smiles all around!






I realize there are a TON of Deadheads out there and that Sunday would bring a member of the actual real-life Grateful Dead to the .down, but there were 3 Grateful Dead cover bands for every 1 person^ in the campsite. The math I used to figure out that ratio is too mind-bending to get into right now, but the actual numbers are staggering and will give you the chills. Cotton balls muffle the sound, but nothing smothers the sentiment. Still, way better than a Zombie Techno Dance Party.

9/3/11
SET I

Rise, St. Augustine, She Sends Me, Nebraska, Puebla, Mar DeMa -> Timmy Tucker, Hi and Lo -> Moth

SET II
Good Trip > Akimbo, Blue Jeans Pizza, Downward Facing Dog, Tubing The River Styx > The Pit, Haze -> Rebubula

SET III
Meat -> Don't Fuck with Flo -> Yodelittle -> Lazarus, Four -> Buster

ENCORE
Crab Eyes%, Bearsong

% on iPads

DOWNLOAD THE SETS! (Thanks, Christopher McGilvray):
SET I: http://www.archive.org/details/moe.2011-09-03.matineeLSRBSC1CM300
SETS II & III: http://www.archive.org/details/moe.2011-09-03.LSRBSC1CM300

9/4/11, SUNDAY

They installed new faucet controls on all the water stations this year, so instead of your trusty, reliable, old fashioned turning wheel, there were now crazy sci-fi push-buttons. This wouldn't have been such a bummer, but the water pressure coming out of these spouts was like a fucking firehose. I also came away with the impression that I have very weak thumbs-- because the resistance was so high that I could barely press the buttons in at all, and forget about being coordinated enough to fill a water bottle (see footage in Screaming Chicken Presents: Best of moe.down xii's Caught On Tape moe.ments). You should have seen people's toothbrushes go flying! I was very happy to have a Sea-To-Summit Pocket Shower from Campmor, because it only took a wee bit of teamwork to refill, and allowed us to wash our teeth, hands, faces, and hair, without the pesky danger of being maimed/scalped. For something as simple as water pressure, there has to be a main control valve somewhere on the grounds that can be adjusted, yes? Dear moe., please help!





Annnyways, my Sunday began with a fantastic hair-washing via the Pocket Shower, suspended from an EZ Up. What a way to refresh! The weather wasn't looking so hot, and by "hot" I mean "good". It had rained overnight and there were nasty chunks of storm cells oot and aboot. It was fairly obvious that we'd be in rain gear before & beyond nightfall.

Adding to the risk of rain, was the presence of the Legendary Mr. Bob Weir. Ben & Joy swear that there is a black cloud that follows Bobby around, and it's not smoke-- it's shitty weather. They'd first felt his wrath at a Gathering of the Vibes a few years ago and have since become convinced that "Bobby is a warlock who creates rain in order to frighten and disgust festy-goers". The theory was a solid one and it soon became abundantly clear that Bob Weir was responsible for a particularly vicious looking weatherfront now hurtling in the direction of moe.hawk. Fuuuuuck!

-> Dani's Magic Beans coffee -> Ozomatli from the top of the hill. As much as I love those guys and know how much energy they exude up close, I couldn't do it. Once again, I sat on my ass and enjoyed the company at the top of the hill with even more delicious coffee and possibly another Loaded Grilled Cheese. Ozo played an awesome set and even did a medley in the crowd that included The Chicken Dance. Ben took some footage which is included in Screaming Chicken Presents: Best of moe.down xii's Caught On Tape moe.ments as seen below-- you can hear him "SQUAAAWK" ing at appropriate beats.





The Campaign Team, meanwhile, had affixed a giant Screaming Chicken poster to the entrance path for optimal foot traffic attention. Additionally, Hern had drawn a lovely moe. sash on Screaming Chicken, so he'd at least be on par with Rex in the Accessory Department. Look how hard we campaign!





We hung out for Bruce Hornsby, who was outstanding, most of the Ragbirds, and then sensing the weather disturbance (Bob Weir) was very very near, headed back to camp to hunker down and suit up.





Some dedicated souls stayed in and went down to the stage for the Levon Helm & Bob Weir set, even though the clouds were looking atrocious, donning an eery color (not quite that weird Tornado Green, but a very close glarey yellow/brown) and a storm was definitely a'brewin'. Tarps flapping, Ben and Joy's eyes rolled back and they cackled like possessed lunatics, "TIS THE CURSE OF BOB WEIR-- THE MORTALS HAVE BEEN WARNED!!! (**THUNDERCLAP**) ... Want some Go-gurt?"

Within seconds of Levon & Bob getting onstage, the skies totally opened up and lightning flashed across the ridge. Before we knew it, the music had stopped, and a short while later, our drenched friends came trudging back from the concert area. They had evacuated everyone off the hill (I wonder if they used Slayer?). Suddenly, Security on ATV's were rushing around the campsite, ordering us to take down our flagpoles, because there was a Tornado Warning in effect-- an ***Official moe.down Weather FIRST***. A Tornado had touched down in the Mohawk Valley and "it is going to get a lot worse before it gets better". The wind picked up, the rain got angrier, and we secured our district. "Is the EZ Up even staked down?" (it was not) -> etc.. Screaming Chicken also ran an Emergency Broadcast Alert, which can be seen in Screaming Chicken Presents: Best of moe.down xii's Caught On Tape moe.ments, below. "Just tell me if the sky turns green."


The show was delayed about an hour, but once the dangerous cell passed, Levon & Bob got back onstage. I saw them at the Vibes in July and it was good, but sitting on my ass, staying dry, and drinking while spending time with friends I don't get to see nearly enough (especially in the same place) was gooder. Also, the second (Levon and) Bob got back onstage, it started to rain again. No shit. Ben and Joy's theory was proving concrete. However, they must have angered The Vengeful Weir, because their Quest tent poles snapped in the storm and they needed to put everything into a spare tent. Bob Weir also Bob Weir'd the only poster we put up for Screaming Chicken's big Campaign Push. Only duct tape, streamers, and zip-ties remained. Clearly struck by lightning, thrown by Bob Weir. Bob Weir is watching.


Rumor had it that Bob was going to be sitting in with moe. later in the night, so we all got back into our raingear and headed in for the long haul-- starting with the frenetic, weird, and totally rockin' Rubblebucket. They are on the Indie-Rock edge of Jambandism and it translates incredibly well to the moe.ron crowd, as seen by the amount of people who were totally getting the fuck down!


It was soon time to hand off Screaming Chicken to the proper authorities for the election. I'd like to say it was sad to see Screaming Chicken go, but it really wasn't. The acoustics on this particular chicken were beyond sad and that was kind of a bummer. It was less a Scream and more a seagull-like squeak. China just doesn't make Screaming Chickens like they used to (last year). Take the fucking chicken already, please.





It was time for moe.'s Sunday night spectacular! RainShine was a cute way to start, I enjoyed Big World which for some reason has never really grabbed me live (love the album version), so that was cool. -> Ricky Martin… And then the crowd shit themselves when Bob Weir walked onstage. I put my hood up. They began The Other One and (fortunately?) the only thing it was raining was glowsticks, so he had that going for him. My regular readers know I'm not even slightly a Dead fan, but I could totally appreciate the history of what was unfolding before me. Do what you gotta do, you know? But then -> Smokestack Lightning -> The Other One and the Universe was really testing me at this point.



It seemed like a good time to go pee. Heidi assured me I wouldn't miss anything and it would all still be going on when I got back. So, I went to pee in the only place left to pee at the bottom of the hill, since the ~10 Portapotties next to the beer tent were surrounded by 3 foot deep mud and had been officially cordoned off by Security. The only place left to pee at the bottom, was next to the Side Stage. I got used to this sort of public urination at Bonnaroo and have become quite efficient and accepting of it. It's actually a million times more pleasant than using a portapotty, and as a girl, it's definitely a good skill to have.

Anyways, by the time we got back, nothing had changed. In fact, there was a moment where it looked as if Rob and Al made eye contact and tried to figure out how to tell Bob Weir to wrap it up (THIS IS ALL CONJECTURE). I did enjoy Stuck Inside of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again, but I would have ALSO really dug that if it were just moe. alone, so… And then he stayed on for ANOTHER song. Feel Like A Stranger. Hern and Heidi felt bad for me because this is what it felt like to the non-Grateful Dead Fan:

So, Bob Weir stayed onstage for almost 40 minutes. How do you tell Bob Weir to get off stage? This isn't a riddle-- I actually want to know- how do you tell Bob Weir to get offstage? The correct answer might save both you and me someday and I like to BE PREPARED! My friend Mike said he was "creaming his shorts" during the entire sit-in and I felt like Bob Weir destroyed a whole set of moe.. But I suppose some people must have really loved Fathead's cameo in 2000 too^^? The moral of this story: have patience, and to each their own! Snarf snarf!

Rubblebucket totally rocked the setbreak and definitely snagged some new fans. Then It was time for moe.'s final set of the weekend! How did that happen so fast? Well, they fucking blew it out of the park! A brilliant Wind It Up, sweet and savory Faker -> bouncy Billy Goat. I love Suck A Lemon! Psychedelic swirling indeed! Chuck sounded great, but a bit like he was starting to lose his voice-- or perhaps that was just a side effect of the collection of Ragweed flanking the hill (allergies nailed a couple of folks I know pretty harshly this .down). Paper Dragon -> a super fantastic (possibly epic) Rec Chem to close out the set.



Due to the rain, the Mayoral race was short, sweet, and delayed until the end of the set, because the music should always take priority (that is awesome). Al also said some important thanks but skipped announcements for the greater good of music vs. rain Time Management (THIS WAS EVEN MORE AWESOME). During the election, Screaming Chicken was easily defeated by Rob's Hair, who ran a fantastic 24/7 campaign on a main road in the campsite (and suspended their candidate, protected from the elements by an umbrella, from a large pole that danced around above the crowd all weekend). Good for you guys! Shit, man-- Rob's Hair is so unbelievably dreamy, even I gave it a genuine WOOOOOOOO!!!! It's like Tinkerbell OD'd on Pixie Sticks, exploded on his scalp, and the happy accident gave it magical powers over all women in the Universe. I mean, seriously-- UNCLE. Let's hear it for Rob's Hair!!! Then Vin nominated Bob Weir, who I did not WOO for at all, but sooo many in the crowd did. Then someone proposed ala tradition, a combo candidate of Bob Weir WEARING Rob's Hair, everyone screamed, no one gave a shit anymore, and we all got back to the music. Ahh, the real winner here is: DEMOCRACY!

The Spine -> Seat of My Pants Encore was a totally bitchin' way to end the .down. Though, holy crap that weekend flew by!!! Where Does the Time Go?

We made our way up and out, in the sloppy mud that we'd come to refer to as "Sauce". During Levon's set, some hippie girls covered in more mud than clothes, skipped past Hern and Matt, talking about how the mud was just like "Sauce", saying, "It's like I'm covered in sauce, there's just so much sauce, it's so saucy". This is one of those festival words/meanings that became an instant classic and will forever live on in our vocabulary. There was so much fucking Sauce everywhere.



The steady rain kept the partying in our end of the campsite down to a minimum while we worked through leftover snacks (Katmama's legendary Rum Cake w/ ladels of her patented Slurry), drinks, and energy, until almost 4AM, soaking in whatever we could of the very last bits of a moe.down evening. It was a really peaceful night. As some sort of Congratulations for getting through all the Grateful Dead, a nearby campsite played Mastodon as I drifted off to sleep. Great fucking 'hood this year.

9/4/11
SET I

RainShine, Happy Hour Hero, Big World -> Ricky Martin -> The Other One* -> Smokestack Lightning* -> The Other One*, Stuck Inside of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again*, Feel Like A Stranger *

SET II
Wind It Up, Faker -> Billy Goat, Suck A Lemon, Paper Dragon -> Recreational Chemistry

ENCORE
Spine Of A Dog > Seat Of My Pants

* w/ Bob Weir - Guitar, Vocals

DOWNLOAD THE SHOW! (Thanks, Rob Clarke!) http://www.archive.org/details/moe2011-09-04

MONDAY, 9/5/11

Monday morning, every year, I have the same discussion with whatever Security is manning the main gate into the concert area, when they do not want to let me in to buy a good cup of coffee. They tell me the Vendors are closed. "But they're not… They're not closed. I promise you, the Vendors are open, and they are wondering why they have no customers… No, really, I have this same discussion almost every year." I finally convinced Dude to let me in by posing the hypothetical, "What if I really need a bandaid and the Medical Tent is inside?". When I finally got in, Dave's Mini Donuts didn't have power to brew coffee, because the venue had unplugged their supply. The grill wasn't on the grid and therefore it was running fine. They offered to make me a breakfast sammich and wondered why they didn't have any customers. Then I went over to Java Junction who did have hot coffee, because they were able to brew it before their power was yanked. They were also wondering where all their customers were. Can someone please clear this up? Yes, my reasons for Vending being open on Sunday are selfish and mostly revolve around hot and delicious cups of coffee, but aren't these Vendors allowed to Vend on Sunday morning if they choose to? Why else are they sitting inside waiting for customers with fresh coffee? WTF? GOOD COFFEE IS AN IMPORTANT PART OF A GRUELING moe.down LOAD-OUT. GAAAAH. PLEASE FIX THIS!!!!!


Goddamn there was Sauce fucking EVERYWHERE. The parking lots were atrocious. Cars were stuck, traction was scarce. Why the venue didn't lay down hay to start the absorption process the previous night is beyond me. Some of our crew grabbed bails of hay and began laying it down in front of stuck cars stuck in the Sauce. There was a mysterious Super Hero in a tractor pulling cars out of the Sauce who came to be known as moe.down Tractor Guy. Pete would eventually pay some hippies to push his Ford Focus rental car out of the Sauce, cuz Tractor Guy had a huge waitlist. After a couple of trips to the car, with the help of one HYAAAAAH MUUUULE (aka Ben, MVP), I switched the Impreza into Sport Mode and blasted out of Gelston in no time flat. I fucking love that car. I would have been doing donuts and having extra fun playing around in the Sauce had there not been so many Pedestrians in the way. FUN IN THE SAUCE!








And just like *that*, it's time to wrap up another moe.down review. Damn. Great music, including moe., who are just as monstrously good and lovable as ever. Not sure what else I can say. It took me the better part of a week to recover. I love moe.!

Aside from moe.down itself, the running crew we've built and nurtured over the span of 12 years has become a tight-knit (and always growing) family who look forward to spending time together at any opportunity. It really says a lot about friends when you can be around them constantly for 4 straight days, while ingesting all kinds of various things that possibly disrupt your state of mind, getting cumulatively more sleep deprived, dirty, eroded by the elements, and can still function together as a well-oiled machine and eventually come out loving one another even more-- and ALWAYS looking forward to the following year. In this way and others, moe.down is better than any Trust Game, Ropes Course, or Off-Site-Team-Building-Activity. This year, we secured plans to spend the Zombie Apocalypse together in the bountiful community that will be known as East Fordice.ville, and would like to publicly invite Dave's Mini Donuts and Dani's Magic Beans to set up shop in our fortified compound.

I've never missed a moe.down and I don't plan on starting that trend, so adapting to the new venue has been a necessary task. Packing lighter and smarter than the Snow Ridge Days is absolutely essential. But when you get a group of Liberals/Idealists together for that much time, you already know the amount of Rational Thinking and Reasonable Planning (aka bitching) that's been discussed, picked apart, and already implemented successfully in our minds. We had a lot of time to talk it through and the general consensus is that Gelston Estate as a venue would be better suited for one single concert, than it is for a full weekend Festival. And yes, it's beautiful once you are in, but "too much energy is wasted on the terrain" (- Ben), to evenly distribute it to all the great music.

Barring a change of venue, some suggestions for next year:
- MORE portapotties in the bottom/stage area-- seriously, did someone really have an epiphany that providing LESS portapotties would work out well and that ~10 in front of the stages would be logistically appropriate for a crowd of 5000+? In the words of Gob Bluth, "Come on!"
- User Friendly water stations.
- I'm not a huge fan of car camping, but at this location, it would make all of our lives easier.
- Solar/Green energy station to re-charge phones
- In event of RAIN, having the venue prevent another MASSIVE SAUCE SITUATION by actually putting hay down not only in front of the stage, but also in the parking lots, throughout the weekend, because HAY ABSORBS SAUCE.
- No Bob Weir, which will also help in preventing said SAUCE.
- Elvis Costello, Lucinda Williams, God Street Wine, David Byrne, Todd Snider, Chris Robinson, & American Babies!

xii .down! moe.down xii, 9/2, 3, & 4/11, Gelston Castle Estate, moe.hawk, NY: 8.something good HUZZAHS!!! Still wonderful, despite the tornadoes, topography, Vengeful Snarf Warlock, and all that fucking Sauce!

And now, what you've all been waiting for--- the Premiere of Screaming Chicken Presents: Best of moe.down xii's Caught On Tape moe.ments!



SLIDESHOW & HI-RES GALLERY!!


OTHER SETS TO DOWNLOAD (check archive.org and bt.etree.org for the rest):
WEEN (thanks, Scott Bernstein!): http://www.archive.org/details/ween2011-09-02.tlm170.flac16
FLOODWOOD (thanks, Scott Bernstein): http://www.archive.org/details/floodwood2011-09-03.fob.tlm170.flac16
RAILROAD EARTH (thanks, Scott Bernstein): http://www.archive.org/details/rre2011-09-03.fob.tlm170.flac16
RUBBLEBUCKET (thanks, Rob Clark): http://www.archive.org/details/rubblebucket2011-09-04
search www.archive.org for more sets!


^ More Dead cover bands than portapotties.
^^ Low-blow?

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Screaming Chicken Talks Turkey with Keith Olbermann

moe.ville Mayoral Candidate, Screaming Chicken,
Talks Turkey with Keith Olbermann
.

Topics include Screaming Chicken's plan to optimize moe.ville geography for the everyday moe.ron & an exclusive first look at the Fascist Security Checkpoint through the eyes of The Candidate of The People (and Chickens and Devil Toads). Screaming Chicken is change you can believe in! RIDE THE CHICKEN! SQUAAAWWK!!!


moe.down xii, sept. 2, 3, 4, 2011, Gelston Castle Estate, moe.hawk, NY
visit www.moe.org for tickets and info


'like' Screaming Chicken for Mayor of moe.ville xii on Facebook! SQUAAAWWK!!
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Screaming-Chicken-for-Mayor-of-moeville-moedown-XII/213957038642324


WTF AM I TALKING ABOUT?

Sunday, August 21, 2011

God Street Wine Variants / Jason Crosby & Megan Palmer, 8/17/11, The Iri ium, NYC

God Street Wine Variants / Jason Crosby & Megan Palmer,
8/17/11, The Iri ium, NYC




Empanadas in Hell's Kitchen -> Times Square. This general area was a work Hub for me for a very long time. What strikes me about Hell's Kitchen now, is that after only 3-4 years of being removed from it, roughly 60% more of it seems to have been regentrified. It's cleaner and brighter somehow. A ton of new yummy looking restaurants have popped up where total shitholes once stood. So many more places to grab a good lunch, now that I am no longer there, looking for lunch, every day. Where did all the shit go? Penn Station? Then of course, you walk 2 blocks over to Times Square, and Mars 2112 with that fucking alien (forever waving out front) remains. As does my old office building, the good ol' 1633. Ah, nostalgia.

Anyways, the Iridium Jazz Club is right across the street from there. I used to spy it from the plaza and think, "Now there's a venue I've never been to." The 'd' in the neon blue sign out front is now dead, so I will henceforth refer to it as the Iri ium, which is more fun to say. It's downstairs from Ellen's Stardust Diner, a joint where tourists flock to see waitstaff bust into song with the regularity of a traffic report. The Iri ium is a mostly seated venue, with a $15 per person, per table, per show (this night counted as two shows) minimum (+ cover). On the upside, the drinks are pricey, so it takes very little effort to hit those minimums, and the room sounds positively *gorgeous*, which makes up for everything else. So, despite being slightly poorer, at least you'll be sober and entertained by the time you leave. Yah, it's totally criminal, and it's definitely Times Square.


Tonight the schedule was for an 8PM show of Jason Crosby & Megan Palmer / GSW Variant, and a 10PM show of Jason Crosby & Megan Palmer / GSW Variant. They were able to arrange with the venue to allow people to stay for the 2nd show without paying a 2nd cover, which was very nice, but they still separated out the acts into 4 alternating chunks (and there was still an additional per table minimum for the 10PM show).

Super Musician & longtime Wino, Jason Crosby, has been hosting Iri ium Singer Songwriter Sessions at the Iri ium each month, and inviting his collaborator-friends to join him. Last month, the series premiere featured Reid Genauer (Strangefolk, Assembly of Dust) as his guest. This month, it was Lo Faber & Aaron Maxwell's (God Street Wine, The Jon Bevo's Love Orchestra) turn. SUH-WEET!

The tables filled up, the pmarkgliatelle was flowing, and Jason Crosby & Megan Palmer opened the show. The duo play moody Folky alt art Rock. Kiiiind of. It's hard to explain, but it's really beautiful and filled with hooks. Megan also rocked the mic on some pretty adorable quirky bouncy Country Rag Timey type tunes that would make Sara Bareilles totes jealous. Over the 2 sets, they took turns switching off on Guitar, Violin, & Piano. These two would dominate a movie soundtrack.



Lo & Aaron took the stage and immediately kicked into gear with a sweet Sit Right Down & Write Myself a Letter. Aaron's voice, wow. Beautiful Lies (psyched this song has been injected into the repertoire), Light My Candles, & Run To You (Lo's voice, sigh.) -- all gorgeous. The room was soaking it in. Lots of smiles, lots of people REALLY rockin' out in their seats… Like, busting OUT of those seats. I spied some air guitar. Sitting at these shows is obnoxious. Don't like it. Nope, not one bit. Lame.

The boys started a delightful Nightingale and were jamming it out, when suddenly, a figure sprinted from the back of the room, hopped on stage, and started banging on the Grand Piano! It was in fact, THE Jon Bevo (The Jon Bevo Love Orchestra, God Street Wine) joining the band mid-song, like some sort of fucking Piano Ninja! He must have been busy until this point, perhaps finishing up a NYT crossword puzzle (in Sharpie) back at the bar. 8 letters, Jon Bevo's Grand bitch: STEINWAY. -> Awesome Nightingale conclusion! What followed was a fantastic Vanity Street (lovin' the stripped down arrangement), a sweet Good Dream, and a bouncy Tide.


Jason Crosby joined the boys on complimentary violin for the rest of the set. He explained how psyched he was to be playing that evening with members of God Street Wine. That he's been a GSW fan since he was a young kid (I read somewhere that his older brother used to bring him to Wetlands), they were his favorite band back then, and they still are now. Awww.


During the absolutely fucking RIDICULOUS Change Your Mind, I got a text from D. Mighty, which led me to immediately check my Fantasy Baseball scores -> cackling like an evil genius, when I saw my team (SHABLAGOOOO) was absolutely crushing his (The Salty Matzah Balls), 9-0. This may have been the proudest moment of my entire Season, because D. Mighty's tears taste like Cashew Butter. They are fucking DELICIOUS and I will collect them in a jar and eat them with a spoon.

Shablagooooo!!!

Then, I went right back to rockin' out Change Your Mind, which was still ABSOLUTELY FUCKING RIDICULOUS. They CRUSHED it. So much energy! Goddamn, I love that song! She Comes Up Softly was beautiful and Wendy was a sweet set closer and totally got the crowd buzzing and left them that way.

It was time for the switchover again, so the stage got re-set for the 10PM show and Jason & Megan's 2nd set (see above). Much of the crowd had to take off for the "2nd seating", cuz I suppose some people have Day Jobs and/or train schedules to contend with.

Lo & Aaron's 2nd set opened with the hauntingly sweet Epilog. We got a lovely Ballroom, Driving West, Straight Line, and tender Strange As It Seems. Jason came back out and we were treated to a new guest on Piano- Pete Levin (The Blind Boys of Alabama, God Street Wine, etc.), who totally rocked that shit out for the rest of the set! A spirited Borderline. Thirsty, which we learned Lo wrote after reading Tom Robbins' Still Life With Woodpecker. Cute. Goodnight Gretchen and a siiiiiick, rockin' Hellfire, complete with Super Jam, where everyone got a chance to shine. Everyone still in the room, both on the stage & in the crowd-- everyone had a shit-ton of fun. Hell, even the people who had to leave early- those motherfuckers had fun during the 2nd show too, they just may not have known why. It was a fun fun night.



Awesome, sounded beautiful, and left me approximately $60 poorer, but what are ya gonna do?

I love the fact that some spectacular keyboard players who used to be in God Street Wine just happened to drop by. Fuck yeah. They should do this more often. Next time at Brooklyn Bowl w/ Dan Pifer & Joe Russo! Or ya know, Dan & Tomo. YES! Either way, I'm in. LET'S DO THIS!

Thanks to Jason Crosby for putting an awesome night of music together! Jason Crosby & Megan Palmer -> GSW Variant -> Jason Crosby & Megan Palmer -> GSW Variant, 8/17/11, The Iri ium: 9 HUZZAHS!! All sorts of bonus points made up for the monetary deductions.


SET I
Sit Right Down & Write Myself a Letter
Beautiful Lies
Light My Candles
Run To You
Nightingale *
Vanity Street *
Good Dream *
Tide *
Change Your Mind *#
She Comes Up Softly *#
Wendy *#

SET II
Epilog
Ballroom
Driving West
Straight Line
Strange As It Seems
Borderline #%
Thirsty #%
Gretchen #%
Hellfire #%

* Jon Bevo
# Jason Crosby
% Pete Levin

*** DOWNLOAD THE SHOW!! Thanks, Scott Bernstein! http://www.archive.org/details/loaaron2011-08-17.tlm170.flac16 ***

SLIDESHOW & HI-RES GALLERY!

Monday, August 15, 2011

Bustle In Your Hedgerow, 8/12/11, Brooklyn Bowl, NYC

Bustle In Your Hedgerow, 8/12/11, Brooklyn Bowl, NYC


The buzz about All-Star Led Zeppelin tribute band, Bustle In Your Hedgerow, has been about as loud as my tinnitus (loud) for years now. Last Friday, I finally got to see them at Brooklyn Bowl, for the 2nd night of a 2-night stand. On Thursday, they opened up for one of ?uestlove's Bowl Train spin sessions and of course the man sat in for a few songs. The interwebs were immediately splattered with rave reviews and footage of this madness. Well, you know what? FRIDAY WAS AWESOME TOO!

What's not to love about 4 musicians who attack, conquer, and deliver the legendary music of Led Zeppelin? Joe Russo (drums), Marco Benevento (keys), Dave Dreiwitz (bass), & Scott Metzger (guitar), absolutely lashed the crowd with their (mostly) instrumental arrangements of some of the sickest Rock songs ever written. I've never been a huge fan of cover bands, but Bustle's angle takes the tribute to a higher level. Marco's keys & effects mimicking Robert Plant's wailing vocals are an amazing interpretation of the sound. Metzger shreds the fuck out of Jimmy Page's licks. On this night, he did an epic, over-the-top, 5 minute guitar solo during Heartbreaker, which he might have dreamed up and practiced as a 15 year old in his bedroom. It had me laughing at times. Lots of bending and raking and high fretwork and a Stairway To Heaven tease to get the crowd RAGING. Ya know, totes sick! Led Zeppelin tribute band, motherfuckers! Russo's driving drums lead the way. It doesn't seem to matter what band he's playing with (The Duo, Furthur, American Babies, God Street Wine, etc.), his instincts & playing are always beyond brilliant. Dreiwitz is the magical krazy glue that keeps all that otherwise krazy shit together and focused.

Scott Metzger's epic Heartbreaker guitar solo (video courtesy of sssleestak)

I didn't keep a setlist, but I don't need a damn setlist to tell you that a huge highlight was getting to hear live, a ripping version of my favorite Zeppelin tune, When the Levee Breaks! Dark and stormy and pounding and LOUD and it all sounded perfect.




The room was packed, the energy was intense Rock bliss. It got hot in there real fast and I'm sure the frozen strawberry margaritas also had something to do with it, but Marco Benevento was at least partially responsible for dehydrating me. Hoooey! *fans self*




As always, our fabulous Blue Ribbon dinner was DELICIOUS! I went with my standard: chicken burger w/ cheddar & bacon (it's hard to try other things when this is so damn good!!). The boys went for the fried chicken. One of them may or may not have ordered a girly drink (with extra pink), but if he did, he's totally comfortable with it, which is why no evidence exists.


Brooklyn Bowl is currently closed for a couple of days (re-opening wednesday, 8/17/11) for "renovations and improvements". If we are lucky, one of these things is re-angling the hanging stacks towards the dance floor (as opposed to the direction of the pin cozies) and maybe the other is insulating the walls or ceiling for some sound absorption. Just saying', if we're lucky…

Bustle In Your Hedgerow, 8/12/11, Brooklyn Bowl, NYC… 8 HUZZAHS!! FUCKING PHENOMENAL! Tons of fun^! Can't wait to see 'em again!


PICS!



^ These guys would be a great late-night set at moe.down.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Eugene Mirman & Pretty Good Friends -> They Might Be Giants -> American Babies, 7/29/11

7/29/11:
Eugene Mirman & Pretty Good Friends -> They Might Be Giants, Williamsburg Waterfront, Brooklyn
-> American Babies, Rockwood Music Hall, NYC


Better late than never, eh? My sneakers finally dried from this episode, so I suppose that means it's time to write the review!

Well, I sure know where I like to head when there's a Tornado Watch hovering over the Tri-State area-- and that's the Brooklyn Waterfront! Why not, right? An open park on a slab of concrete with a giant stage full of electronic equipment seems like a perfectly reasonable destination as the newsradio Meteorologist announces the appearance of "definite rotation detected in the clouds" heading your way. I packed a change of clothes, extra shoes, and then remembered to go back into the house to grab SuperPoncho (holy shit!!! now on sale!!! ACT FAST!). I mean-- might as well try to stay dry? Maybe? Fucking Live Music.

"We take you to Brooklyn". The line stretched for blocks up Kent Ave., but was definitely moving more quickly than the Faith No More line of summer 2010 (also, less angry energy). Hipsters Hipsters everywhere, but not a drop to drink. Except for all the Beer in the Beer Garden. And the tequila in the flask. Oh, and the massive shitstorm of water that eventually began falling from above.


Eugene Mirman, comic genius, and his magical group of Pretty Good Friends, opened the show. I'm not sure if its the cultural identification, but Eugene Mirman is one funny motherfucker. His MC work was fluid & smart. He brought along some new suggestions for Tanqueray Gin's "Tonight We Tanqueray" marketing campaign. Having officially banned Gin from my body years ago, I'm here to tell you that these catchy phrases were well-conceptualized and mightily appreciated by everyone with a similar background. My favorite was, "Tonight We Tanqueray… Tomorrow, we stop by Planned Parenthood on the way to work." Eugene Mirman RULES!

Kristen Schaal was working through her set, which included reading an excerpt from her book about her taint (the excerpt, that is-- as far as I know the whole book, The Sexy Book of Sexy Sex, covers more ground than her taint… *rimshot*) when the shitstorms began. Picture 3000 or so nerds with short attention spans, distracted, speechless, and looking upwards at 3 weatherfronts converging directly above our heads-- knowing exactly what is about to happen. Sets of swirling dark clouds, coming from 3 separate directions, and jumbo gumball sized (the 50¢ ones) drops of rain hurling towards us. The SuperPoncho was already on. My Festival Spidey Sense was tingling. "I should take off my shoes." I didn't take off my shoes. Please note: I should have taken off my shoes. Then came the flood. From the sky. A flood fell from the sky. On us.

Schaal tried to keep us entertained, but it would be a challenge. Maybe she was channeling Seth Herzog, I don't know, but Irene Cara's What a Feeling from Flashdance started blasting over the PA and Kristen ripped off her black dress, revealing a different, full outfit- a skirt and tank top, grabbed a folding chair, and re-enacted the famous dance scene from the film, which climaxed as she yanked on a piece of rope held by Eugene Mirman, who would immediately dump an aluminum pail of water onto her chair-splayed body. Then they did it a few more times, as the song is very long. Mirman was methodically opening and pouring one new plastic bottle of water into the pail for each take, as rain fell in sheets off the stage's roof. It was fucking awesome. They brought it. Thank you, Kristen Schaal & Eugene Mirman!

The rain died down for a while and we were treated to the very pale, Jim Gaffigan. Acoustics in the beer garden being what they are (terrible), I had some trouble hearing Jim's wonderful whispery comedic stylings. This was soon made impossible by the next set of torrential downpours. Enough rain accumulated on the cement and was pouring off towards the East River, that at any given moment you could look down and you were standing in no less than an inch of water.

I really should have just taken off my shoes in the first place and hidden them in Das SuperPoncho (it's got a giant kangaroo pouch). Did I mention the rubber boots in my car? There were rubber boots in the car. It was too hot to walk around in rubber boots. Todd Barry inherited a hell of a situation and I love the guy, but have no idea what went on during his set due to aforementioned volume of storm.

Hern: I think we're gonna get rained on at moe.down this year.
*THUNDER CRACKING* *RAIN POURING*
Lynn: WHAAAT??
*THUNDER CRACKING* *RAIN POURING*
Hern: I SAID-- I THINK WE'RE GONNA GET RAINED ON AT MOE.DOWN THIS YEAR!!
*THUNDER CRACKING* *RAIN POURING*
Lynn: GEE… (*THUNDER CRACKING* *RAIN POURING*) WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THAT?
Oooooh, and as the storm subsided, we were treated to a fabulous surprise-- PATTON OSWALT!!! YAAAAAAY!!!! It was his turn to try and make 3000 drenched people happy. He reminisced about walking his dog one day in NYC and accidentally interrupting two crackheads mid-BJ. Patton is awesome and I heart him.


There was a musical comedy act, but I honestly have no idea what actually went on after Patton, because I'd stopped paying attention as I started getting drunk. Eventually the skies cleared, revealing the picturesque Manhattan skyline that had disappeared for the better part of an hour. The squishiness was unbearable, so I took off my shoes and socks. That's right. Williamsburg Waterfront, barefoot. Suck it, Hipsters! SuperPoncho fared me pretty well. It's weird the way it works though, you can still feel the weight of the wet, but you stay dry, though it's somewhat sticky with humidity on the inside. The majority of my crew (and the rest of the crowd) was unprepared, so they were soaked to the core. I would have taken a picture of Mern's hairy nipplage completely visible through his wet yellow t-shirt, but the taste of bile in the back of my mouth made reaching for a camera impossible.

Yes, tonight, They Might Be Giants would return to the site of their 1986-ish music video, Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head (which they did not play! BOO!!!)

Touch the puppet head.

Their setlist consisted of a few old favorites and then some of the newer stuff, including a handful off their new album Join Us. The new material was cute, but I (enjoy &) enjoyed the oldies more. Ana Ng fucking ROCKED the Waterfront. Ana Ng is the first TMBG song I'd ever heard, watching MTV at the age of 10. Look at me now! It gave the drippy crowd an obvious and well-needed energy boost. More of that, please! The Avatars of They (sock puppets-- their album drops in 2012) performed the song Spoiler Alert on the big screen. Puppet show under the stars. This is the weirdness TMBG fans have grown to love. It was a sweet treat. As was the FIIIIIINGERTIIIIIPS encore. I was totally into that. "What's that bluuuue thing doooing heeeeeere?"

The Avatars of They (who's album will be released in 2012) perform Spoiler Alert (footage courtesy of vvedge1138)

Seeing a show with wet bare feet at the Williamsburg Waterfront is kind of yucky-- I definitely wouldn't recommend it. It would have been nice to get situated closer to the stage, but that would have meant risking serious injury. Still, barefoot on damp cement is way more comfortable than waterlogged sneakers any day of the week. Even Tuesday. I had to put the kicks back on for the 5 block walk to the car. Despite the brilliant sound they made, it was totes bleeeah. Anyways, always listen to your Spidey Sense, kids. I should have taken my sneakers off before the rain. Let us all learn from my mistake. Look at this, I help people.


The last time I saw American Babies (7/16/11, Bearsville Theater), they asked that I use the word "fuck" more in my next review. Shit, I can do that. No fucking problem, boys!

Most of the crew were still soaked to the bone and desperately wanted to go home. Fucking lame. But there was one Trooper. One… El "Pukebutt" Herno.

Hern: I'm soaked.
Lynn: Yes, but you're coming to American Babies!
Hern: I'm going to get Pneumonia.
Lynn: If you're going to get Pneumonia, you've already got it! You're coming to see American Babies!
Hern: I am going to see American Babies.
El Herno was in! He tried to dry his Smartwool socks by dangling them out the passenger window during the drive over the Williamsburg Bridge, which was pretty fucking pointless, as the humidity was about 100%, and it was a losing battle. I tried to talk him into getting those pretty little embroidered Chinese Slippers they sell in the bodegas for $3, or even just some fucking flip-flops, but he refused. My feet dried in the a/c and I put on my sandals.

Rockwood Music Hall was fucking PACKED. I quickly bought Hern a beer for his valiant efforts. We found a sweet fucking spot on the railing and the Behbies hit the stage running. They had an hour to seduce the room. Forget seduction, they fucking fucked our earholes hard, with sweet fucking rock music. NYC is full of entertainment on any given night. There's always a show that's an Insider's hot spot. Someplace the real shit is going down. You only know it's really happening when you feel that special tingly late-night NYC magic in the air. This was that special fucking place. This was that special fucking show… for at least an hour. And what an hour it was! THE FUCKING WORLD NEEDS MORE BEHBIES!!!! I totally didn't keep a setlist, but shit was fucking solid & tight-- TRUST ME. GO SEE THIS FUCKING BAND.


For me, seeing American Babies while wearing a pair of Birkenstocks was a little fucking weird (not just because the a/c was making my toes cold) and for some reason I felt the need to apologize to the band about it. Hern felt wet and cold. Despite that, he enjoyed the show and really liked the songs. Score one for the Grape Drink! Fearing he'd blame American Babies and never see them again (it was important to leave this on a high note) if he did in fact come down with Pneumonia (he did not), I promised him a ride home to try and minimalize any more exposure that might push it over the edge. Unfortunately (for me), I was not able to talk him into a pastrami sammich or hot dog at Katz's before we left. Hern never turns down meat, so it must have been pretty fucking serious.

I don't know, it was a short set, but I feel like I could still throw a few more fucks in here.
A great fucking band,
American Babies are.
Fuck, fuckity, fuck.


Wish I could have heard more comedy, but I'll just have to hit up Eugene Mirman & Pretty Good Friends next time they are in the area. They Might Be Giants-- I've seen 'em better, but they were still fun. As a 30-something year old who drinks her morning coffee out of the same They Might Be Giants mug that was purchased over 10 years ago (did I just jinx this?) every day, you know I'll see 'em again. And of course, American Babies-- FUCK YEEEAH!

The ceiling fan did nothing, so my grey Simples spent the better part of a week in the direct sun to completely dry out. On a positive note, the thick layer of brown dust they collected at the Gathering of the Vibes is now history in all but the sneakiest nooks of the tongue. HUZZAH!


Brooklyn Vegan has some awesome pics up from the night! http://www.brooklynvegan.com/archives/2011/08/comedy_rain_mus.html

THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS SETLIST
Birdhouse In Your Soul, Clap Your Hands, Can't Keep Johnny Down, Damn Good Times, Don't Let's Start, Judy Is Your Vietnam, The Mesopotamians, Never Knew Love, When Will You Die, Spoiler Alert%, Ana Ng, You Probably Get That a Lot, Cloisonné, Graveyard, Instanbul (Not Constantinople)

ENCORE
Fingertips

% The Avatars of They!

AMERICAN BABIES SETLIST
Total Fucking Awesomeness
NO FUCKING TIME FOR AN ENCORE

SLIDESHOW!