Belated Birthday Wishes

My nephew turned 30 the other day.

I'm a terrible about sending birthday cards, everyone in my family knows this.  What I lack in the cards sent department, I try to make up for in other areas. 

I'm an exceptional hugger, ask anyone. I'm a good listener, and I'm capable of offering solid advice.  I'm reasonably dependable.

In Jared's case, I like to think I played a small part in his musical development. 

I don't know who got him hooked on Don Henley and Billy Joel when he was a kid, but he came to love Squeeze, Elvis Costello, Billy Bragg, and Robyn Hitchcock.  We met for coffee a couple of weeks ago and he was talking about the new Graham Parker album. 

We are both fans of Joe Strummer.

In October 2001, Strummer and The Mescaleros played a great show in Phoenix.  I was there, Jared was there.  From what I remember, Jared was sequestered upstairs, away from the alcohol.  He was underage at the time.

The band played a little bit of everything.  I never thought I'd hear Joe Strummer sing "White Man in Hammersmith Palais" live, but it happened just a few feet in front of me. 

I bought this picture disc from the old Rhino Records on Westwood Blvd. in the late 80's.  I know I paid a quarter for it because the price tag is still on it.  Why didn't I buy more of them?  Maybe it was the last one in the bin. 

There was an in-store event at a local record store on the night of the show.  I was working late, but I gave the single to a co-worker.  The story Phillip told me was that Strummer got a real kick out of signing the single, showing off his old picture to his current bandmates.

Joe Strummer died unexpectedly the following December.  Congenital heart defect.

Jared just started reading his poetry in front of audiences.  I think he has quite a few good years left in him. 

 

Handclaps and La Las

On Wednesday, we saw Hospitality in concert at Crescent Ballroom. 

In a word? Magnificent.

The last time I saw a show, we were running a little late and arrived shortly after the music began.  As it happened, Hospitality didn't start rocking the joint until 10.

I wasn't thrilled with the opening acts.  Both were fine, but the first one didn't seem too far removed from their last coffeehouse gig and the frontwoman for the other band wasn't happy with the sound.  I'm sure she was frustrated, but there was a lot of eye-rolling and what the fuck? and despite the swirling keyboards and the Velvet Underground influence I was happy when they said, "this next song is our last one."

We drank pear cider and convinced Michelle to stay for the show rather than walk down 2nd Ave. and fetch her car.  She'd told us she was leaving no later than 9:30 and she was worried about getting a ticket, since she'd parked in an unfamiliar garage.

Hospitality played most, if not all, the songs from their debut album, plus a couple of new ones.  The musicians were tight and everyone sounded great. 

About halfway through the show, I thought I saw Vincent Gallo to the right of the stage.  I leaned over and shouted in Michelle's ear. 
"Do you know who Vincent Gallo is?"  She shouted back, "Is that the guy from The Matrix?"  I leaned over and shouted in Corey's ear.  "Do you know what Vincent Gallo looks like?"  She nodded and smiled and said, "I think that's him up by the stage."

After the show, we walked Michelle back to where she parked her car.  No ticket, no towing. 

We were all tired the next day.