There’s nothing like a trip to Austin, Texas—the justifiably self-proclaimed “Live Music Capital of the World” to illuminate the little ways our cities differ in how we value the contributions of our local musicians. While Seattle seems to harbor an attitude of begrudging tolerance, Austin treats its musicians exactly like they should be—creative ambassadors for the city who should be respected. While in Austin for a wedding a couple of weeks ago, I saw a street sign that warmed my heart: Several yards of curb space outside of a small local club was reserved as a “Musicians Loading Only” zone, an incredibly helpful designation for bands trying to unload a van full of equipment on a busy Saturday night. While the security staff at Neumo’s is often cited by local musicians for kindly saving parking spaces for them, it’s impossible for me to imagine Seattle Mayor Greg Nickels leading a charge to accommodate musicians on this level.
The security staff at Neumo’s had its hands full with much more than parking arrangements at the packed-to-the-gills Ladytron show on April 26. Both the balcony and showroom floor of the club were almost gridlocked, with more than a few ticket-holders bemoaning the fact that they couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the band or their multimedia projections. Club owner Marcus Charles was genuinely apologetic when I spoke with him, but it still sounds like a problem that’s difficult for any venue to avoid encountering occasionally. “Unfortunately, it could be one of those key shows a season that sells out in advance with a guest list that is maxed out and [there’s] nothing else going on that night,” Charles explains. “[That] in turn creates even more buzz that brings in everyone within the music industry [who] ‘needs’ to get in: friends of the club, friends of the promoter, press, labels, local rock stars—everyone with a favor card.”
That’s bad news for members of the general public, who plunked down $18 to see the show, a fact that Charles acknowledges, but insists is a universal risk. “Every club in Seattle, from the Showbox to the High Dive, has this issue from time to time. I know that [Neumo’s booking agent] Jason [Lajeunesse] in particular and everyone at Neumo’s takes immense interest in trying to make the club an enjoyable and safe experience. It sucks to buy a ticket with your hard-earned money and then get [crowded out] while you are trying to enjoy a show. I apologize to anyone who could not see the show.”
That same night, things were not nearly so crowded around the corner at the Mercury, where I caught a fiery, somewhat chaotic set from the Blakes. This reckless-but-talented rock trio sound as ambitious as they do unhinged, thanks in large part to drummer Bob (yep, just “Bob”), a preternaturally talented kid with a spastic, hard-hitting presence that will draw inevitable Keith Moon comparisons. They currently have an EP, Little Whispers (Red Dear Records), but for a more accurate taste of their current sound, you should wait for their new full-length (set for release later this spring), or better yet, catch them Thursday, May 4, at the Crocodile with Stabmaster Arson, the Young Sportsmen, and Trip the Light.
I wasn’t able to attend EMP’s Pop Conference [see review, page 37] April 27–30, but by all accounts it was an exceptionally successful edition, with popular panels featuring widely revered critics like Live at the Apollo author Douglas Wolk and Village Voice veteran Robert Christgau. Moderator RJ Smith introduced Christgau with a shower of praise for making the Village Voice “what it is.” Ostensibly referring to the massive layoffs that hit the Voice last month, Christgau grumbled, “what it was,” a timely rebuff that drew appreciative chuckles and applause.
Speaking of what it was, while no one could be blamed for thinking of today’s Metallica as just a wealthy, worn-out band of kvetching therapy patients, this weekend I thoroughly enjoyed a rediscovery of their 1983 debut, Kill ‘Em All. While I share the universal desire to punch Lars Ulrich in his smarmy mug whenever I see it, the fact remains that songs like “Jump in the Fire,” “Metal Militia,” and especially their brutal cover of Diamond Head’s “Am I Evil?” are still stunning, thrash-metal masterpieces. Metal Up Your Ass, indeed. 