The New York Dolls show turned out to be a lot of fun. They were loud and rockin’, and I thought my right ear might have been permanently destroyed. But by this morning it had bounced back, so it clearly wasn’t a Cheap Trick-level assault. Cheap Trick ringing will last for upwards of a week. And that shit’s scary.
Steve and I left my house around two o’clock yesterday afternoon, and sat in the standard Philadelphia traffic for a long, long time. Finally, we arrived in the Chinatown section, and paid some guy $11 for the privilege of leaving my car on a trash-strewn lot. I’m not even sure he worked there.
Why is it always humid in Philadelphia? Every time it’s sticky and gross — regardless of season. Yesterday was no different. It wasn’t very hot, but every pore on my body swung wide open the moment I stepped out of the car. And mister, I have a lot of pores.
We went to a store Steve wanted to check out, called Mitchell and Ness. He’d been there before, but it was my first time. They sell exact reproductions of sports jerseys, and that sort of thing, and the prices are pretty breathtaking.
I happened upon a 1969 Johnny Bench road jersey, and since he’s my favorite player, I asked one of the employees for the price.
Him: Need help with anything?
Me: Yeah, how much is this Johnny Bench?
Him: Let’s see, that one’s $275.
Me: …Steve, I’ll be waiting outside.
Then we went to Moriarty’s Pub for dinner and a couple of mildly disappointing microbrews. They have a lot of beers on tap, and I wanted to sample some stuff I’d never tried before.
So, I went with an IPA that had the word “steam” in the name (not Anchor Steam). I can’t remember what it was called, but it was from Colorado and had an aftertaste that I didn’t like. Maybe rotting vegetables? Possibly bottom of the Kroger dumpster? I wasn’t able to put my finger on it.
Then we each had a Flying Fish Farmhouse Summer Ale, and it was better but not great. In fact, it was fairly dull; it could’ve been a Michelob Light.
On a happier note, the shepherd’s pie was excellent. Better, in fact, than the version I was served in England. The stuff I got there was greasy and gristly, and not very good. Last night’s was delicious.
After leaving Moriarty’s we walked directly across the street to an Irish pub apparently called — get this — Irish Pub. There we each had a Stoudt’s Pale Ale, which was just what the doctor ordered. The downside? $5.50 per pint.
Around eight o’clock we went to the show, and the third of three opening bands had just started playing. They were called Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears, and sounded really good. Funky, man.
Then there was a too-long wait, and eventually (finally!) the current version of the New York Dolls took the stage.
David Johansen looks like he weighs about 100 pounds, and has arms like a 12 year old girl. Time (he’s about 60 now) and rough living has taken a toll on his face, and this is approximately what he looks like at this point.
But, of course, he’s a natural-born rock star, with charisma to spare. He’s one of the all-time great frontmen, and still possesses whatever mysterious magic such creatures possess.
Sylvain Sylvain, the only other original member, was extremely animated throughout the show, and seemed to be having a blast. Whenever he wasn’t sporting a “guitar face,” he was smiling and laughing.
The lead guitarist was good, but looked a lot like Johnny Thunders. Is that wise? I’m not sure it is. I groaned when I saw him take the stage.
But the band sounded great. They were loud and rocking, and played a mixture of old and new songs. Often in those kinds of situations everybody just wants to hear the old favorites. But I thought the new songs held up well, and the crowd was into all of it.
Here’s a pic I snapped with my cell phone. You can see that we were standing pretty close to the stage — hence my temporary hearing loss.
About two-thirds of the way into the show the band went into some kind of overdrive, and took it up another notch. They had the audience whipped into a frenzy, and a group of dipshits dressed like 1977 London punks started moshing and slamming, and all that stuff.
Why do some people insist on dressing like rock stars when they go see rock stars? I mean, I like baseball, but don’t feel the need to wear a full Cincinnati Reds uniform, glove, and batting helmet when I go to the stadium.
Oh wait, we were looking at replica jerseys earlier in the evening, weren’t we? Never mind…
Anyway, I was standing near it all, and some shitpouch came careening out of the crowd and torpedoed me in the side with his outsize blockhead. It was a direct hit, and I almost went down. Once I regained my bearings I shoved him away, and moved a little farther back.
A few minutes later (during “Trash”) the same guy knocked-down a woman who looked like she was sixty years old. Sent her all the way to the floor, with both feet sticking straight up… It’s a wonder she didn’t explode her pelvis, or something.
Man, I really hate that particular brand of idiot. Ya know? I was hoping someone would kick his ass, but it never happened, unfortunately.
And there really were a lot of oldsters there. It was an odd mix of young and old. I sometimes feel like a grandpa at shows, but not this one. Some of the people standing near us looked to be the same age as my parents.
At two o’clock was, I believe, Karl Rove, continuously clapping his hands in beat, like he was at a tent revival singing an old Negro spiritual. And to our left was Clint Eastwood, I think, standing with Cliff from Cheers. Mixed-in were college kids, and everyone in-between. It was fairly bizarre.
Near the end of the show the Dolls acknowledged the 900 lb gorilla in the room, and paid tribute to their late, great guitarist Johnny Thunders. Johansen and Sylvain sang “Can’t Put Your Arms Around a Memory,” and said “We miss you, Johnny,” or something similar.
It took away some of the sour taste left by the imitation Johnny on the right side of the stage.
“Personality Crisis” was the encore, and the assholes were outdoing themselves during that one. There was a swirling whirlpool of elbows and douchebags in the middle of the floor, and senior citizens were being knocked around. I saw Karl Rove head for the hills, while still keeping the beat.
We got home around 2:30 am, and Steve had another 75 miles to drive from here. I haven’t heard from him, so hopefully he made it.
Next up: the Eels, if/when they tour to support their new album. Oh, we’ll be there. And that’ll mean two shows in one calendar year. We’re getting pretty wild, aren’t we?
I’ll see you guys on Monday.
Have a great weekend.
No slamming for you!
When I go to Green Day in August, I am just DYING for some meth head punk to slam into me. Glad you had a good time.
Good Afternoon Surf Reporters…….
My one question, and I’m already fairly sure of the answer, is: during last night’s show, at any point, did Buster Poindexter appear?
I can see such activity going on at a Green Day show, but I have never heard of people slam dancing at a glam rock band show. I must be old, and out of touch.
Fithst, you yanks make me giggle.
Top ten!
Hearing about the show last night just pisses me off even more that they snubbed us and didn’t show up for their gig here in SLC. Again, its probably because they’re still a bit unhappy about the mormons whacking Arthur “killer” Kane some years back.
why isn’t the fish in the picture?
My wife and I went to see D.O.A. a few years ago. In the middle of the show I noticed she was missing, but sure enough she turned up in the mosh-pit. Her elbows were flailing like Gordie Howe and a couple of people looked like they were going to take a run at her.
I briefly thought about going in and pulling her to safety, but then decided to let nature take it’s course.
So – this “band” attracts a lot of dipshits, douchebags, and assholes to their shows?
Ahem … I’m just sayin’!
How did they get skeletor to play the drums?
man, you arrived late, and got that close? not bad a’tall
Thirteen again!!!
@ Jeff – If it sounds like this: Bottle. Clear, filtered amber orange colored body with a white and tan head. Very lively body, lots of bubbles. Oily hop cone scent, somewhat plasticy and moldy, but otherwise a solid and strong oily hop nose… sweaty and sweet. Tastewise it’s somewhat crisp, though bland, and thin in the body and lacking any depth of flavor. OK overall, lightly sweet, light honey and leafy flavors, but nothing remarkable. Then it was Fire Station 5 Steam Pumper IPA. The description alone says the bottom of a Kroger’s dumpster.
Good question kristen!
I’m not a music snob or a beer snob or even a movie snob. I want to be a snob at something but I don’t know what to pick.
Sounds like the same set I saw. Some dipshit did the same to me, except I got her kicked out after the 3rd time I asked to to stop. Run into the bitch at every show I go to. Her and Jello Biafra. I swear he’s stalking me.
Anyone see the the Arthur Kane documentary? Eh, not bad.
Happy Friday, Surfers! Not for me, though. I have to head up north into “red state” california to see the in-laws. Fox news on 24/7 and 90 degrees in the shade.
Calgon, take me away….
Shiny Rod I thought you were describng my wife!! P.S. How did you know where to find the body?
Oh, next time you are at the Troc, there is a parking garage at 11th and Arch that only charges $5.50 if you get your ticket stub stamped. I did that when I was there last weekend for the live show of Cinematic Titanic, the latest incarnation of the MST3K crew.
@ AngryWhiteGuy – Do like me, I carry a knuckle cracker with me. Smack the nut upside the head and they won’t be waking up until the floor sweepers clock in. I did enough Shore Patrol back in the day to know how to crack heads with ease. Of course I can legally crack heads now with inpunity. Thank God I don’t have any military bases in my jurisdiction, especially Cherry Point. Some gunny might remember me and want to see if I can still throw down.
Last concert I was at was Nickelback in Calgary. My favorite sighting was 2 elderly ladies (had to be close to 80) pounding their fists in the air – it was so great!!! Unfortunately did not get it on film.
@ Knucklehead – I feel for you, if you pass thru Mendocino County, could you pick up a couple of bales of Indio for me? I’m running a little dry here in NC and really need a boost. Harvest season isn’t til fall and I can’t wait that long.
@ pagan – I see you won’t be getting any goodies for fathers day…
His wife prolly doesn’t read this site. And if he has any sense at all he post under an assumed name. “Pagan” isn’t his real name just as “Jason” isn’t my real name.
-T. Farty McAppleass
jason – how about being a jello snob? only the best jello for you, boy!
Leanne,
Nickleback = 80 year old audience.
Sorry, couldn’t help myself. I’m kinda cranky today.
Shiny Rod,
It’s gonna take more than Humbolt’s finest to get me through THIS weekend. To quote one of my favorite old movies:
“Looks like I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue…”
sad:
http://www.cnn.com/2009/SHOWBIZ/Music/06/19/ent.georgia.theater.fire/index.html
Lee Harvey Ramone is my real name. I am the secret love child of Tom Roberts and Riff Randell. Dad was a big fan of Oswald, and mom had a crush on Joey.
I think that there’s enough cultural references there to keep you folks busy for awhile.
Rock n’ Roll High School is one of my favorite movies. That, Shakes the Clown and Eraserhead. That’s weekend of entertainment, right there.
kristin,
thanks. I just don’t know if jello has the prerequisites to be a good snob item. To be a good snob item you need to have your own lexicon or obscure refrences that the “outsiders” won’t get. Take music, for example. A good music snob could say any of the following and I wouldn’t know the difference:
“The Chrome Buzzards aren’t shit since they kicked Oily to the curb. I swear to God, that ruined my life.”
“The Swollen Red Vaginas have really been speaking to me since they picked up Squeaky. I tell you what man, those solos are jackoff material.”
See? I can’t say, “You haven’t lived until you’ve had black cherry, fuckfaces” and be taken seriously in the snob world. Everyone has had black cherry.
I did not know roller derby had such great warm-up bands. Amazing!
@knucklehead…actually the tune is “Tanqueray…take me away…….Vern Gosdin
I once got clocked at the Troc too (that should be on a tee shirt)! ‘Cept it was my alleged best friend who did it. She was swinging wildly to keep back the drifters from perimeter of the mosh pit and she hit me right in the face instead. I was so pissed. Then some dude sitting on the step leading down to the pit thought it would be great fun to try and trip me as I was backing further away from the melee. So I slammed one of my blue suede Faux Martens down on his birdy ankle. Probably snapped it in half. He didn’t bother me again. Good times, good times.
Knucklehead – crankiness understood. I haven’t had in-laws in many years. Can’t say I miss it. I have enough issues dealing with my own kin. I always say – I love my family – from a distance….
Did you throw you panties?
Gretchen!
Congratulations!!
You are now officially the Viceroy of Western Pennsylvania West Virginia Surf Report Regional Contingency (pending Approval of Constituency ).
what I mean is…..
The Preceding was too Pretentious and in no way(possibly) Reflects the Views or Opinions of this Site….
and as I’ve been told in the past;
Everything in Moderation
man I’m fucked
@ Jeff
Philadelphia: City of Brothers on Drugs….
My whole family is from there. In fact, my pompous-ass sister is still residing in one of the rich-y rich sections of the suburbs. And you are absolutely right…it is always hotter than new love there.
@JCIII: Whut?
@ JCIII Has anyone really been far even as decided to use even go want to do look more like?
My comment explained
http://encyclopediadramatica.com/Has_anyone_really_been_far_even_as_decided_to_use_even_go_want_to_do_look_more_like%3F
@Gretchen –
That was the Miller High Life talking. Late late night.
@CBS – That was some funny chit right there! The comments section had me in tears!
Of course, that could be the residual effects of all the damn beer I drank last night.
Woke this morning and was probably still over the legal limit…
Ahhh, living the high life.
@JCIII…When I was a member of the Musicians Union, I was elected President of the National Board of Approvers…and immediately impeached myself having dissapproved of my election.
when I was young I entered the seminary but I didn’t beleive in God! Does that mean I’m guilty of artificial insemination?
Cleveland Steamer?
so Jeff – fake Karl Rove, Clint Eastwood and Cliff from Cheers were all there. … Who would people say you and Steve were?