Last Wednesday, I caught a show at Abba Java Coffee House that probably drew between 100-200 people. The crowd appalled me, though. Those figures sound great for a few local bands in a coffee house until you realize most everyone came for one band and left before the others came on, meaning the attendance was more like 40 people at a time. And half those 40 were just standing around, ignoring the fact that a rock show was going on in front of them.
I was there to catch the Arctic Summer for a profile story (free plug: check Venues on Thursday!) They opened, putting on a high energy set. Stationed from the couch mid-way back in the room, I could turn my head to see two entirely different sights.
Turning to the left, I saw the band's buds and real music fans, enjoying the set, or at least paying attention to it. One guy was even dancing!
But if I turned to my right, I saw people browsing the Internet and shooting pool. I saw idle conversations, and people wandering in and out of the building.
It may seem like I'm going to whine about the guys in the back, but both groups were at fault. After the Arctic Summer's set, most of the people who had been up front left the venue. Some of those who were ignoring the music before moved up close to catch the next band, and new people filtered in. This continued throughout the show.
Maybe this is just me, but I wouldn't show up thirty minutes late to this week's NRT show, watch my friend's five minute segment, then leave. Forget the fact that it's disrespectul to the other performers: why not enjoy the whole show?
Last week I ripped on Alpha Sigma Phi for organizational problems. But there is one compliment I can give them: they drew a decent crowd who had fun, despite some flaws. Arctic Summer even called it their favorite show ever, and said the crowd connection was fantastic. From what I saw of their Abba Java set, there's no reason they shouldn't have had the same response.
What is with this attitude? Do people even realize that their friends aren't the only ones playing at shows? I honestly don't see the point of paying five dollars to watch your friends play a 30 minute set of songs you've likely heard before. You've already purchased admission, you've already dragged yourself to the venue, why not check out some new bands?
If your friend's band is throwing on a show, show up on time and see the other acts. Stick around and see the headliner. If you find yourself at a show standing in the back talking, move up front to get a better look at the band. See those things sticking out of your waist? Those are called hips. Move them. I'm not asking you to love every local band you see, but at least give them a chance.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Monday, September 18, 2006
"Where disappointment and regret collide"
Hot on the heels of last week's post, I had, delivered into my hands, a concrete example of what I was complaining about last week in the form of Alpha Sigma Phi's Band Aid concert. (Yes, I'm picking on a charity show. Deal with it.)
The fliers advertised a show from 8-11 p.m., featuring Mark This Day, Arctic Summer, The Man, Minor White and Cloverleaf. I made the trek out past Frat Row to Fairmount Ave., hoping to see the Man and Minor White in particular, two of my favorite local acts.
The show started not at the advertised 8, but pushing 9. Not a big deal, I thought at the time. (More on this later.) We got a unadvertised bonus: some of the brothers playing a few acoustic covers of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Third Eye Blind, etc. All in good fun, I suppose.
Then came Marks This Day, on guest from Pittsburgh (if you trust their MySpace, which they made sure to shill regularly.) Tailor-made for the Warped Tour, they supplied plenty of songs about high school, girls, and high school girls. They weren't bad at what they did. They had a new nice riffs and good energy. All the same, I'm not fifteen anymore. I've gotten over the fact that I didn't have a date to my freshman dance, so I've kind of outgrown Mark This Day.
Cloverleaf came on next, which confused me since they had top billing in all advertising I saw. That made sense; in terms of drawing power, they probably have it over the rest of the bill. They made it to the quarterfinals of mtvU's Best Music on Campus contest in the spring, and were opening up for Yellowcard the next night. I popped out per my friend's request, thinking I'd get back in time for the last few bands.
I never made it back, but it wouldn't have mattered. The show ended promptly at 11 due to noise regulations. Neither The Man nor the Minor White ever made it on the stage.
So I guess it was a big deal that the show ran an hour late. I would think that, if the show had to end promptly at 11, they'd start on time. I would think that, if they knew they had five bands and two hours, they'd cut the frat brothers doing cover tunes (as much as I liked harmonizing the "doo doo doos" in "Semi-Charmed Life.") Instead, we had a cluttered mess of people in the backyard of a frat, watching cover tunes and emo rock while talented groups like the Minor White just sat and watched. (They were in the crowd. I saw them.)
A frat-organized show has the opportunity to draw people who wouldn't usually come to shows. People who haven't heard these bands before lost the opportunity due to poor organization and planning. Instead, the lackluster show will probably sour them to exploring the music scene further. I personally dragged four people to the show, and feel I let them down.
Maybe I forfeited my right to complain when I excused myself. But if I'd stayed, even I'm not enough of a jerk to demand my money back from philanthropy. But why waste time with covers and imported emo when you have some of the local scene's finest bands at your fingertips? Unfortunately, the existence of a few quality local bands can't always overcome local apathy and bad booking.
EDIT: It has been brought to my attention the Man cancelled because of a family medical emergency. My condolences go out to the family members. I stand by all other comments.
The fliers advertised a show from 8-11 p.m., featuring Mark This Day, Arctic Summer, The Man, Minor White and Cloverleaf. I made the trek out past Frat Row to Fairmount Ave., hoping to see the Man and Minor White in particular, two of my favorite local acts.
The show started not at the advertised 8, but pushing 9. Not a big deal, I thought at the time. (More on this later.) We got a unadvertised bonus: some of the brothers playing a few acoustic covers of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Third Eye Blind, etc. All in good fun, I suppose.
Then came Marks This Day, on guest from Pittsburgh (if you trust their MySpace, which they made sure to shill regularly.) Tailor-made for the Warped Tour, they supplied plenty of songs about high school, girls, and high school girls. They weren't bad at what they did. They had a new nice riffs and good energy. All the same, I'm not fifteen anymore. I've gotten over the fact that I didn't have a date to my freshman dance, so I've kind of outgrown Mark This Day.
Cloverleaf came on next, which confused me since they had top billing in all advertising I saw. That made sense; in terms of drawing power, they probably have it over the rest of the bill. They made it to the quarterfinals of mtvU's Best Music on Campus contest in the spring, and were opening up for Yellowcard the next night. I popped out per my friend's request, thinking I'd get back in time for the last few bands.
I never made it back, but it wouldn't have mattered. The show ended promptly at 11 due to noise regulations. Neither The Man nor the Minor White ever made it on the stage.
So I guess it was a big deal that the show ran an hour late. I would think that, if the show had to end promptly at 11, they'd start on time. I would think that, if they knew they had five bands and two hours, they'd cut the frat brothers doing cover tunes (as much as I liked harmonizing the "doo doo doos" in "Semi-Charmed Life.") Instead, we had a cluttered mess of people in the backyard of a frat, watching cover tunes and emo rock while talented groups like the Minor White just sat and watched. (They were in the crowd. I saw them.)
A frat-organized show has the opportunity to draw people who wouldn't usually come to shows. People who haven't heard these bands before lost the opportunity due to poor organization and planning. Instead, the lackluster show will probably sour them to exploring the music scene further. I personally dragged four people to the show, and feel I let them down.
Maybe I forfeited my right to complain when I excused myself. But if I'd stayed, even I'm not enough of a jerk to demand my money back from philanthropy. But why waste time with covers and imported emo when you have some of the local scene's finest bands at your fingertips? Unfortunately, the existence of a few quality local bands can't always overcome local apathy and bad booking.
EDIT: It has been brought to my attention the Man cancelled because of a family medical emergency. My condolences go out to the family members. I stand by all other comments.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
"You don't know what you got till it's gone"
It feels weird to be starting off a blog highlighting the local music scene when Crowbar, one of the only places to see some good acts, has shut down. What's worse, the sting was worsened by the abrupt nature of its departure. No warning, no farewell show. Not even a plausible reason.
The venue's Web site listed "other, larger venues within Crowbar’s market area" as a reason for their closure. I've been racking my brains since I heard this over the summer, and I've yet to think of a venue bigger than Crowbar aside from the Bryce Jordan Center. As much as I love hitting Dragon Chaser's or the Tall Shiva hookah lounge for a local show, I doubt they were dipping into the profits of a band that had boys in girl's jeans lined up around the block for Hawthorne Heights.
But as much as I wanted to blame Crowbar for incompetent management (and believe me, I do,) I think a bigger problem is the apathy of students to the local music scene. All the good shows in the world mean nothing if people don't seek them out. So, if I can do anything with this blog, I can steer a few people in the right direction.
No, State College isn't the biggest place the world, but there is a lot more to offer than pop stars at the BJC and the slew of cover bands that play at weekly bar slots. (Note: I'll be 21 at the end of the month. I might sing a different tune after one too many Jack and Cokes leads me to desperately beg for "Don't Stop Believin'.")
Even with the hole left by Crowbar, there are plenty of opportunities for those willing to seek them out.
My favorite memory of last year was a show run by the Asylum, a group who runs a lot of hardcore, punk, and emo shows out of Pollock— not normally my thing.
But in April, they brought Jonah Matranga, who releases albums as Onelinedrawing, to the HUB. I hadn't heard his music before, but I was wowed by his genuine appreciation of his fans and joy for music. When his time was up and the doors to the auditorium were locked, Jonah had the remaining kids circle chairs in the lobby of the HUB, grabbed an acoustic guitar and portable amp and played more songs while we crowded around. He stayed around long to enough to say hello to every fan. He granted a request for one last song, unamplified, to a dozen or so fans crowding around to hear him softly playing and singing.
That's the kind of musical experience you can't get while barely paying attention to a bar band sloshing through a Bon Jovi song, or hundreds of feet away from the BJC stage. But the opportunity is there for that kind of experience in State College. As shown by the Crowbar's troubles, if people don't take advantage, the opportunities dry up. Take a chance, just one or twice, to check out a local show and see what the scene has to offer. If you won't, don't be surprised when your choices disappear.
The venue's Web site listed "other, larger venues within Crowbar’s market area" as a reason for their closure. I've been racking my brains since I heard this over the summer, and I've yet to think of a venue bigger than Crowbar aside from the Bryce Jordan Center. As much as I love hitting Dragon Chaser's or the Tall Shiva hookah lounge for a local show, I doubt they were dipping into the profits of a band that had boys in girl's jeans lined up around the block for Hawthorne Heights.
But as much as I wanted to blame Crowbar for incompetent management (and believe me, I do,) I think a bigger problem is the apathy of students to the local music scene. All the good shows in the world mean nothing if people don't seek them out. So, if I can do anything with this blog, I can steer a few people in the right direction.
No, State College isn't the biggest place the world, but there is a lot more to offer than pop stars at the BJC and the slew of cover bands that play at weekly bar slots. (Note: I'll be 21 at the end of the month. I might sing a different tune after one too many Jack and Cokes leads me to desperately beg for "Don't Stop Believin'.")
Even with the hole left by Crowbar, there are plenty of opportunities for those willing to seek them out.
My favorite memory of last year was a show run by the Asylum, a group who runs a lot of hardcore, punk, and emo shows out of Pollock— not normally my thing.
But in April, they brought Jonah Matranga, who releases albums as Onelinedrawing, to the HUB. I hadn't heard his music before, but I was wowed by his genuine appreciation of his fans and joy for music. When his time was up and the doors to the auditorium were locked, Jonah had the remaining kids circle chairs in the lobby of the HUB, grabbed an acoustic guitar and portable amp and played more songs while we crowded around. He stayed around long to enough to say hello to every fan. He granted a request for one last song, unamplified, to a dozen or so fans crowding around to hear him softly playing and singing.
That's the kind of musical experience you can't get while barely paying attention to a bar band sloshing through a Bon Jovi song, or hundreds of feet away from the BJC stage. But the opportunity is there for that kind of experience in State College. As shown by the Crowbar's troubles, if people don't take advantage, the opportunities dry up. Take a chance, just one or twice, to check out a local show and see what the scene has to offer. If you won't, don't be surprised when your choices disappear.
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