And all of sudden gremmie.net became a haven for charity.
Nancy is a family friend of ours who I remember as the best babysitter in the world. Though I was barely 3 or 4, I dearly recall the nights she took care of myself, brother, and sister. She has a fatal ailment called Primary Pulmonary Hypertension, so I suggest you gremmies head over to the website to check it out and donate. For future reference, there’s also a link in the Links section.
In a recent blog entry entitled ‘the gremmie archetype’. Published on January 18th, I briefly detailed my thoughts on the embedded relationship between blogs and their authors. Underscoring the inevitable debilitation that occurs when a blogger runs dry his initial thread of inspriation, a blog quickly becomes more laborious than fun thusly negating the original sentiment. Ultimately, the subjects and discussions contained on a blog can be read like a personal timeline to that blogger’s life much like a diary, only dryer.
The fundamental difference between a diary and a blog is the cognitive acceptance that others will read what you’ve written. Where in a diary, the author does not expect its contents to be read by anyone other than themselves, a blogger takes into account public image, however slight, and how a blog entry may be viewed by anyone reading it; therefore the authorial intentions for each are markedly different. As this paragraph relates to the first it is my estimation that all blogs whose steam has run out or lacked steam to begin with inevitably mutate into blog-diary hybrids. Bliaries, if you will.
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Man those beatniks are pushy people.
I’ve never had the good fortune to be in the company of a favorite singer/songwriter in such a cozy setting. The Housing Works Used Book Cafe on Crosby Street was the locale for last night’s Mike Doughty set. Arriving at 7pm to a line of about 30 people, all of which I soon recognized were by definition, more hip than myself. This crowd, I thought, must have access to a private and exclusive ‘us but not you’ tome teaching, in depth, all the idiomatic drawl the hipster crowd should be carrying on in the name of some antiquated abstract concept of pre-yuppie New York. Needless to say, I was not cool enough.
The show bill listed 3 acts with Doughty “headlining”. The first was Emiliana Torrini whose voice was angelic. And not angelic in the typical, ‘I can’t find a better word for it’ sort of way, but angelic as if she were the maternal seraphim come down to Crosby street for one night only to teach New Yorkers how to properly use the word angelic as adjective to describe anything. Damon and Naomi were on next. Apparently they were 2 of the founding members of Galaxy 500. Most people were dozing off after the second song. Their music was fine, but they lacked any sort of presence or charisma; as if they were part of that pre-yuppie New York and they were weary of the new faux hipster scene.
After my run-in with Mike Doughty backstage on Wednesday night at Irving Plaza and his requesting my financial advice (see below) I was waiting in the wings last night to re-introduce myself and again hand him my card. Silly Rabbit. Mike came on, solo, at about 9:30pm and played until about 10:15 including a double encore of The Only Answer and Grey Ghost. He played one song after another like he was going for the ‘45 songs in 45 minutes’ record. As I sat there mouthing the words to “Sunkeneyed Girl’ and ‘Looking at the World from the Bottom of a Well” I - just like @ Irving Plaza - found myself alone. While most people know Mike Doughty from Soul Coughing, no one seems to know him just as Mike Doughty; I’m sure much to his chagrin. I’m sure he’s doing his best to make a name for himself aside from his past successes. But in that moment I felt hip even though I am most obviously not. I felt hip not because I showed up at some ’small, esoteric, semi-private acoustic benefit show in a used book shop in the village’ but because I genuinely admired the act and knew what the hell was going on. Moreover, I was rockin’ out in my $5 hand-me-down chair while everyone else watched the stage stone faced. And given the appreciation of Mike’s music as exhibited by the crowd after each song, you’d think more people would have actually been enjoying themselves.
Last night was a great night. It all began with AJ’s piece of junk car breaking down at a stop light in the middle lane of the Westside Highway. Let me back up a moment.
Last night’s agenda, which was established at some point during the day, was as follows. First, AJ and I were going to get dinner and review his resume one last time before I shipped it off to my higher power contacts at Bear. You see, AJ needs a job. He’s a 40 something gentleman who has an MBA and is most certainly an intelligent, well-mannered individual. And since I hooked him up with his most recent employ at Westchester Financial Partners, which turned out to be a travesty for both he and myself, I feel obligated to correct that mistake. The second part of the plan was that Jeff, myself , and AJ drive to Red Rocks West Saloon in Chelsea on the corner of 17th and 10th and engage in kicks and joy. Only one of these happened.
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I knew there was a reason I kept that last business card with me at all times.
Last night, as you gremmies know, was the Mike Doughty show at Irving Plaza. For the uninformed, please refer to the blog post below.
I arrived at Irving Plaza at about 7:40 with doors to open at 8pm. The lines outside were separated into two. The line on the left consisted of Guest List (10 people), and the line on the right, which to my surprise wrapped around the block, consisted of General Admission. I say ‘to my surprise’ because I had no idea The Polyphonic Spree, the headlining act, had so many fans - or fans at all. I was bewildered by the spectrum of colored robes the Spree fans wore. ‘That’, I thought to myself, “is dedication”. Kind of like Kiss fans getting dressed up like Gene Simmons - makeup and all. I later found out the robe vibe was the Spree’s primary costume. I felt like I was trapped in a flower-power movie circa 1969, only there was no free love, just grisled New Yorkers trying to relive an era they were never a part of. So it goes.
As 8pm rolls up, a tardy Doughty comes strolling through the front door and into Irving Plaza, of course I don’t realize this until he’s already gotten past me. The security guard, who I’ll call Dave - cause that was his name - starting letting guest list people in first to get their backstage passes and the like. It turns out this didn’t make a lick of difference since NO ONE could even get onto the main floor in front of the stage until the upstairs security gave the a-ok. A walking dead Teddy Roosevelt sporting a big VIP on his lapel would himself have been turned away by the surly security guarding the main floor. The crowd began to build in the small space between the main floor and the downstairs and just like that, the main floor opened up.
Not knowing where to go but sporting my stick-on backstage pass like it was a purple heart, I walked around the main floor in a bit of a daze. Eventually I made my way to the ominous backstage door guarded by a large gentleman named Walter. I would find out later that Walter had a thing for Handsome Dan Chen’s girl, Nina. Walter and I became ephemeral best friends later on. Backstage at Irving Plaza is like my bathroom at home, mostly clean and just big enough to fit 8 people comfortably.
Whenever you meet someone you admire, especially someone who has been in the public limelight - if only briefly - you can’t help but act like a fanboy. Just like the scene in the first Wayne’s World where Wayne, whilst backstage at Alice Cooper, explains to Alice Cooper and his band that they’re not mental or anything and then goes on to pose stupidly generic “rock n’ roll” questions; such was the case when I met Mike Doughty. Not knowing what to say I probably should have figured out that being myself was the best avenue - I learned this eventually and he and I got along just fine. After a series of initial awkard exchanges and him giving me promo cards to hand out to the crowd, I explained to Mike what I do for a living. He immediately perked up by the prospect of having Finance guy in the house. He proceeded to ask me a variety of questions and in the middle of all this asked for my business card. I knew there was a reason I kept that last business card with me at all times, finally it found at home in the hands of Mike Doughty. He expressed sincere interest in getting in touch with me to rap money and financial planning. I could not have been more elated.
To an ordinary gremmie this might sound bizarre. But the reality, objectviely speaking, is as follows. 1) Chance to meet person of admiration occurs. 2) Meeting with person of admiration involves, subjectively in depth, the likes of you. 3) Unexpected connection occurs between you and person of adminration. 4) Further fostering of newfound connection is recommended by person of admiration. To make this objective story apply to you, input your favorite artist and yourself and see how excited you get.
Promo cards in hand I ventured out of the backstage area and into the crowd. Walter, the backstage doorman, kept me company between bouts of rummaging through the crowd pitching Doughty’s haughty melodic. Most people were agreeable to what I was doling out; after all, the hardier portion of the crowd was there to see The Polyphonic Spree and were of an amiable ilk. Some people however looked at me like I had three heads. Can’t get everyone to like you I guess. Between the bar, the bathrooms, the balcony, the beatniks, and the basement floor (alliteration?), I layered the place with promo cards. This thorough job ended up getting me the proverbial pat on the back from Mike later on that night as his close friends noticed the copious advertising while taking a piss.
The first opening band came on, I don’t remember their names and barely their music. They were like the Beta Band in that they were something you could ignore and feel ok about. For the entire set, Walter and I chatted at the backstage door while passing comments about the colorful crowd all while he extolled the virtues of being part of the security squad. Walter was a nice guy. He reminded me of an older, worn out William Perry. In the break between the first opening band, whose name still escapes me, and the second opening band, Doughty, I made another concerted effort to pass out promo cards amongst the crowd. People were a bit happier to be getting a bit of info about the guy who was about to go on. Stands to reason.
Doughty and Handsome Dan Chen took to the stage. it was 9:15pm. Handsome Dan Chen is a poltie Asian fellow who plays the keyboards the way Stone Gossard plays guitar, gracefully with a pinch of pizzazz. Mike opened up with “Busting Up a Starbucks” a tune to be released, some would say re-released, on his forthcoming ATO Records debut, “Haughty Melodic“. Looking around I felt alienated as the only guy in the short vicinity singing all the words to the song. I didn’t mind so much, I was rockin’ out anyway. Next up was my favorite “new” song - “Grey Ghost“. According to Mike and Dan, they felt they had some sound issues onstage, but from the crowd the whole bit sounded fantastic. This opinion was further supported by folks in the crowd who, before last night, didn’t know Mike at all and were suddenly superfans. Instead of going through the entire setlist I’ll just say that midway through the set I went backstage again to watch the show stageside. Sitting on double painted black wood next to one of Irving Plaza’s resident roadies, I mouthed every word to every song during the tender of Mike and Dan’s setlist, including a down home cover of Willie Nelson’s “The Gambler”. As a side note to Doughty fans reading this, the song “Madeline” has nothing to do with anyone named ‘Madeline’. And except for a person he met last night’s daughter, he doesn’t even know a Madeline.
Once Mike’s set was ended, at around 10pm, he went to the closet-sized backstage room to chill with a handful of friends who had stopped by to visit. Not wanting to bother the guy chatting with his buddies, I stuck around stageside and ended up meeting 15 of the 22 members of The Polyphonic Spree. Lovely people. Most people associate the word ‘cult’ with these guys because of their getup and generally positive attitude, but nothing could be further from the truth. They curse and make dick and fart jokes. Oh, they also put on a MEAN show.
Between Mike’s and the Spree’s set I managed to sneak in some face time with Mike. To say he’s a down to earth guy sounds so bland and expected from a fan. Kind of like a Who fan saying Pete Townsend kicks ass. So I’ll just say that as soon as I sat down with him, he offered me a beer and starting asking me about mutual funds and IRA allocations. Once the Spree went on, Mike, myself, and two of his friends watched from stageside. I split at around 11pm. Upon my departure Mike thanked me for my help and assured me he’d be getting in touch to talk $.
It’s anyone’s guess if Mike will end up getting in touch with me asking for financial advice, lord knows he must meet 10 people like me everyday. I’m not going to hold breath. But even that I was able to sit and chat for a brief and broken up 30 minutes was enough to get me excited.
On a chance encounter with the good folks over at mikedoughty.com was I able to procure backstage passes to the eponymous‘ show tonight at Irving Plaza. Most gremmies will fondly remember Doughty as the frontman for Soul Coughing, the 90’s quartet whose off-center musical devices somehow yielded two immensely popular radio hits, “Super Bon Bon” and “Circles”. Like most bands worth their weight in salt the depth of their work transcended their Top 40 curiosities, but don’t try telling that to you average JAP from Long Island blasting the bootleg Nas remix of Bon Bon from her BMW 7 series.
Soul Coughing parted ways in the year 2000 to pursue other musical interests. Doughty went the way of singer/songwriter, producing his own Skittish, a 12 track LP including gremmie favorites, “Where Have You Gone” and “All the Dirt”. Time passes, shows get played, Doughty builds a fanbase - you’ve heard this story before I’m sure. His latest release, Rockity Roll, is a 6 track LP consisting of the close-to-home, “27 Jennifers” and the haughty melodic, “Ways + Means”. Speaking of haughty melodic, yesterday Doughty announced the release of a full length album recorded over the past two years entitled, “Haughty Melodic“. As it turns out, Haughty Melodic is an anagram from Michael Doughty, the album is due on May 3rd of this year.
I hope to meet Mike tonight at the show - according to his blog he’s a cool dude. And as this Gremmie already knows, his music is rockity roll.
