screamed past my house. Like in the Mission in SF, this place is on a direct route from the Fire Station. I think I even talked about it a song. Maybe I’ll post it here today. Not a lot is going on. Summer officially ended on Saturday, and like magic, it got cold all of a sudden. Why, it’s almost like the seasons are so predictable that people started marking these events in the calendar! I’ve said this before. Fuck. Where’s the fire? I don’t care. Little troubles me at this point. On Friday Patrick the drummer, and I went to see a band called the Mommyheads. It was his idea. They were performing in a very small, old church hall in Beacon across the river. I have been to this place before when they used to have poetry readings. Maybe they still do? I think I even read some poetry there one time. The poetry readings were full of wierdos, but what would one expect?
Per and some other cat from his band. Per was not per-forming with a stickered guitar on Friday
The headline act were supported by a Swedish fellow who goes by the name of Per. He had (or still has) a band back in Sweden called Eggstone (the Godfathers of Swedish pop). The Mommyheads were his backup band, augmented by I guess, a couple of his mates from Sweden? I don’t know. After the second song I wished it would end. Plastic Bertrand stole the hubcaps off Abba’s tour bus and threw them into the river. That’s what it sounded like. Everything was so well rehearsed (I actually wrote rehearded, which sounds more appropriate). It was rehearsed to the point of being rehearded. I don’t ever want to rehear it again, thank you very much. Per tried hard to entertain, but it was a little too tryhardy and repetitive for my liking.
Diarrhea Planet – unfortuntely they weren’t on that night.
An intermission brought us to the main act. What was a seven piece was now a four piece. The guitarist had a twee sticker on his axe. This did not augur well for what was coming. I mentioned this to Patrick and he became incensed. “You have a sticker on your hat bro!” Well, it wasn’t a sticker. The hat said “Hawaii”, and more importantly, I wasn’t playing my hat. His analogy seemed a bit forced. I think he’s freinds with the drummer, but that’s cool. The band started playing it’s first song, and being right near the front, I had an earful of the keyboard player’s amp. It was too loud, but fortunately I had brought along some earplugs in the event of this happening. I’ve used these before, but didn’t really find them very effective. This time I pushed them all the way into my ears as far as they would go, and the results were much better. I could actually hear everything quite clearly like I was listening to a stereo in a room. I didn’t particulary like what I was listening to, but the sound quality was quite amazing.
The Mommyheads may have been all wearing the same clothes as these. That shirt looks familar.
I don’t want this to turn into a review of earplugs, so I’ll try and say something positive about the Mommyheads. It’s not my thing, but everyone there liked them. I hate just about everything, so it was going to be an uphill battle form the beginning. I feel they have inhaled a lot of Yes albums and are regurgitating them. I can’t stand quirky time changes and musical acrobatics. I fucking hate it. Ok, you can play some complicated run or chord sequence flawlessly, big deal! It’s as boring as batshit, and it’s showing off for the sake of it. The audience might think it’s cool, but I don’t. The faggy singing didn’t help either. They all seem like nice people. Their Wikipedia entry has a wealth of minutiae about them. In fact that is all that they are about, minutiae. It’s like listening to a bunch of songs that were tediously built out matchsticks, one stick at a time.
Yes….ah, …No
Oh, and the kick drum was too loud. At one point the drummer started telling everyone that the last time they played such and such a song, his leg had started aching, and he thought that it would give out. The crowd could empathize, a couple of them were even wearing masks. Those hardcore ones that make you look like a rabid dog. You know it’s not Rock and Roll anymore when you start talking to your audience about your ailments at a gig.
As it happened, “Yes” themselves were playing the very next night in Connecticut not too far away. For me it was a No to Yes, I’d just seen them, or at least a facsimile. There is one Yes song I do like and it’s “Owner of a Lonely Heart”. Yes have been going for ever it seems. They constantly tour, and have just released a new album. The guitarist, Steve Howe looks to be the only surviving original member. When I say surviving I mean, some of them aren’t with us any more, but Jon Anderson the orignal lead singer, still tours as a solo act, having split from the band in 1980. The others are in Rock Heaven or have just peeled off like a worn out decal.
Diarrhea Planet shitting up their mom’s front lawn. (Note: stickers on guitars – not good)