If Wishes Were Horses, etc.
It’s that time again, kids. We’ve been busy, and we hope that you’ve been busying yourself with all sorts of good times as well. We will be performing again on August 22 at Asterisk, and August 28 somewhere in Williamsburg, although I cannot recall quite where or with whom.
August 13, 2004 -- Free 103.9, Brooklyn
We returned to the scene of the crime, so to speak. It seems like things have been cyclical for us as of late, our performance at 502 Warren Street went down literally in the same spot where the idea for this band was born. In any event, this show happened on a special day for me, as it was the 26th anniversary of my birth. I know, very exciting. You know how things go wrong just about every day of the year? And how, on your birthday, just for that one day, you want everything to go as planned, to exceed your wildest expectations? Well, that didn’t happen. Perhaps it was because it was Friday the thirteenth, it is unclear. The sound board blew out. Touring bands took their sweet time setting up. The cops showed up, and while they didn’t shut down the show, they did scare people off. Regardless, rather than going on around 12 or 12:30 (or whatever time we were supposed to play, but the show was supposed to be done by 1am sharp), we went on a little closer to 2am, a full two hours after my birthday had expired. Of course, most of my friends who had came to see us were long gone by that time, so instead of the 100 to 150 people who were there at some point, we played to approximately 20. These things happen, I suppose. I will admit to being put in a bit of a foul mood by all of this, however. It didn’t help that my father failed to telephone me, either. Cry me a river, I know. If you’re curious, Thirty Pack, Child Abuse, Nada Surf, and the Power-Ups all opened up for us. I wanted this show to be a bit different, a bit special, as it was my birthday and all. As a result, we recruited our good friend and confidant Tianna Kennedy to sit in with us on the cello. I figured a cello was the least intuitive instrument we could add to our little ragtag ensemble. It would have been anticlimactic, what with the show being a bit problematic, except we fucking ruled it. I subscribe to the Black Flag school of thought, that you play your fucking heart out no matter how many or how few people are there. We certainly did. I believe the music stand got thrown about more than a little (occasionally it was even thrown at me by one Tianna Kennedy, when she wasn’t busy bowing with it), but I think it actually lasted through the evening. There was much rolling around on the floor, screaming, and removing of shirts. It seemed like a good idea at the time, although I suppose I’ll have to let history be the judge. As it happened, the show was documented by Joly, who I’m sure will eventually put a clip on his website or something. So it would seem that you can be the judge as well, should you so desire. We played the longest set of our lives, although at this point I’m hard pressed to remember just what songs we played. I even threw one in that we hadn’t rehearsed with Tianna, just because I was drunk and it seemed like a good idea. I did drink a pint of bourbon and a few beers to boot, which was probably more than sufficient. So suffice it to say that despite our humble beginnings that night, we had maximum fun and everyone who stuck around did too. I suppose in the final analysis, if you weren’t there, you’re already regretting it. Don’t bother apologizing, as hard as we try we cannot turn back the clock. It’s futile to even try, I’ve found. There’s always next year.
August 13, 2004 -- Free 103.9, Brooklyn
We returned to the scene of the crime, so to speak. It seems like things have been cyclical for us as of late, our performance at 502 Warren Street went down literally in the same spot where the idea for this band was born. In any event, this show happened on a special day for me, as it was the 26th anniversary of my birth. I know, very exciting. You know how things go wrong just about every day of the year? And how, on your birthday, just for that one day, you want everything to go as planned, to exceed your wildest expectations? Well, that didn’t happen. Perhaps it was because it was Friday the thirteenth, it is unclear. The sound board blew out. Touring bands took their sweet time setting up. The cops showed up, and while they didn’t shut down the show, they did scare people off. Regardless, rather than going on around 12 or 12:30 (or whatever time we were supposed to play, but the show was supposed to be done by 1am sharp), we went on a little closer to 2am, a full two hours after my birthday had expired. Of course, most of my friends who had came to see us were long gone by that time, so instead of the 100 to 150 people who were there at some point, we played to approximately 20. These things happen, I suppose. I will admit to being put in a bit of a foul mood by all of this, however. It didn’t help that my father failed to telephone me, either. Cry me a river, I know. If you’re curious, Thirty Pack, Child Abuse, Nada Surf, and the Power-Ups all opened up for us. I wanted this show to be a bit different, a bit special, as it was my birthday and all. As a result, we recruited our good friend and confidant Tianna Kennedy to sit in with us on the cello. I figured a cello was the least intuitive instrument we could add to our little ragtag ensemble. It would have been anticlimactic, what with the show being a bit problematic, except we fucking ruled it. I subscribe to the Black Flag school of thought, that you play your fucking heart out no matter how many or how few people are there. We certainly did. I believe the music stand got thrown about more than a little (occasionally it was even thrown at me by one Tianna Kennedy, when she wasn’t busy bowing with it), but I think it actually lasted through the evening. There was much rolling around on the floor, screaming, and removing of shirts. It seemed like a good idea at the time, although I suppose I’ll have to let history be the judge. As it happened, the show was documented by Joly, who I’m sure will eventually put a clip on his website or something. So it would seem that you can be the judge as well, should you so desire. We played the longest set of our lives, although at this point I’m hard pressed to remember just what songs we played. I even threw one in that we hadn’t rehearsed with Tianna, just because I was drunk and it seemed like a good idea. I did drink a pint of bourbon and a few beers to boot, which was probably more than sufficient. So suffice it to say that despite our humble beginnings that night, we had maximum fun and everyone who stuck around did too. I suppose in the final analysis, if you weren’t there, you’re already regretting it. Don’t bother apologizing, as hard as we try we cannot turn back the clock. It’s futile to even try, I’ve found. There’s always next year.
1 Comments:
At 5:03 PM, Anonymous said…
(re: title)
as grandaddy used to say
"wish in one hand. Shit in the other. See which one fills up faster."
it was a great fucking set, birthday blues and mishaps aside.
thanks for including me
- cliteolus smurfectity
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