this imploding heart

I promise, I'm over-reacting in your favor.

I should have listened to my instinct on this one.

That new club in the old Aerospace/Moes space, Neumos, is utter shit.

Pretty Girls Make Graves is a great band. A great band that I've stood next to Honey Buckets behind a biergarten on a fence in August in a poor-fitting dress to see. I had to go home from that show -where I could only see the lead singers fist punching at the air- because I had killer death cramps of cranky psyco killer ness.

But tonight, I was so annoyed with a ridiculous number of rules, mazes, and flaming hoops through which to jump in order to get our hands stamped. My dear, sweet, nearly 31 year old Patrickt showed the doorman his temporary state ID and a matching credit card. The doorman said if he didn't have his expired ID, he would not be allowed to exit and re-enter.

This wouldn't have been a problem, except that it was 7:30pm. The other acts scheduled to play were all shitty house DJ's and a lip-synching group with PAPER MACHE GUITARS and CONICAL PARTY HATS.

Patrickt managed to get the manager to let us leave even though we had already had our tickets torn, so that we can walk to first hill to get a third form of ID.

The front door setup is 4 steps before one is allowed entry. The bar is built like a mirrored maze, is 3 levels, has one entrance on the far side of the building, and one exit on the nearside. The exit is exit only, and the entrance is impossibly hard to find once you're inside.

We left, had dinner, went back to the club and got patrickts hand stamped. I spotted 7 pairs of leather pants in 5 minutes. 3 tube tops. 4 gothic gowns. and a shitload of lycra clubwear. This was like no Seattle rock show I'd ever attended. Perhaps because they weren't playing any rock music. It was now a terrible MC and some top 40, as the second opening act.

Generally, when one goes to a show, one can expect to see some bands who are, in some general way, similar to the feature band. This helps assure that the audience will fit the performance, and perhaps further the career of the band.

Neumos made the money making choice, I suppose. -Instead of catering to folks who like one type of music, making them feel like their 12 bucks was well spent, Lets trick 2 different groups into coming to a show that they will each detest 50% of the time. We'll get twice the attendance, so who cares if 50% of the group hates the performance 100% of the time? Not us, we're jackasses.-

Pretty Girls were great. As always, energetic, in tune with each other, attentive to their audience, and constantly engaged in making the show great. They found a tactful way of aknowledging the discomfort of half their audience, and made the other half feel better about trudging through the beginning part of the show. And then there was a birthday cake, and the guitar guy who looks like peter pan is growing a beard. I have a little crush on that band.

But the neumos staff were laden with rules, there was unfinished scrap wood on stands for a bar, a hundred foot tall man wedged his body between patrickt and I and remained lodged there for the better part of an hour, an extremely greasy man with mommy coddled hair asked me if my copy of Breakfast of Champions was the Holy Bible, an MC tried to make me say 'Yeah' , then he tried to make me say 'Hell Yeah' several times. He was relentless in his request for me to say'Yeah' and 'Hell Yeah'. Listen buster, I didn't come here to entertain you. Leave me the Hell Yeah alone.

many other things I hated happened courtesy of Neumos. When I'm not so annoyed and altered, I'm going to write my first Old Lady letter.

Dear Neumos,

I almost took my shoe off at you the other night. You better watch it.

nonsensically,

Crazy Old Lady.

In the words of Patrickt "I am a gentle breeze. Ahh. A gentle breeze."

Posted by Sonya at February 28, 2004 01:13 AM