NYC ROLL-TOP: Apples and Pabst’s

Last week, in Ohio, I saw a performance of a play written by a friend of mine. "In Memoriam" was staged in a wide backyard with a nearly full moon rising over the trees. Window frames hung from branches, as did a white sheet, on which surreal videos were projected. On the way in, we were handed bags of random trinkets (dice, pens, tapes) and each given a can of Pabst's (sorta like a more surrealist version of the apples one supposedly got at the top of the stairs at the old Fillmore). The simple gesture set a warm and friendly vibe, and I had my mind blown by the totality of the experience. Back in New York now, I've started going to shows again, and caught two this past weekend at a pair of still new bars in Williamsburg, a few subway stops from home. On Friday night, Steve Bernstein's Sex Mob performed at North 6th. On Saturday, the Cookie Dusters (featuring Jon Gutwillig of the Disco Biscuits and Joe Russo) performed next door, at Galapagos.

Neither of those gigs hit me as hard as "In Memoriam", though I had a pretty decent time at both of them. Why was that? Both shows kicked ass in their own ways. Bernstein and company played a perverted version of "The Blue Danube". Gutwillig and friends stood in front of a propulsive two-drummer line-up that moved with a surprising grace through jungle grooves. In all three cases, I enjoyed the shows with some of my best friends. In the case of "In Memoriam", I had arrived after a ten hour drive from New York, not knowing that the play even existed, or that I was gonna see it. In the case of the other two, I'd had them marked on my calendar for some time. Sex Mob was marked casually, a week or two ago. The Cookie Dusters was a bit more anticipated, at least in the sense that it'd been in the book for a while, through several venue changes.

And, like most Sex Mob shows, we just sorta wandered in, as did the band. People applauded when they walked on stage, but it was still a bit before they actually started playing. Bernstein distributed his new charts, made sure everybody had beers, and eventually things got rolling. The Cookie Dusters event was a bit more rock and roll, people queuing at the venue and lining up through a smoke-filled hallway. There was more of a spectacle implied. When the band finally took the stage, bassist Ira Tuton (normally of The Ally) made some stage announcements. The crowd barely reacted. With an impish smile, Gutwillig repeated Tuton's announcements, nearly word for word, and the crowd erupted. There was more of a divide between the audience and the stage, it seemed, at the Cookie Dusters.

Maybe the hometownliness of the events had something to do with the way they came off. New York is Sex Mob's home base, and nearly everybody in attendance at "In Memoriam" knew each other. The Cookie Dusters, on the other hand, were on tour. And though it was only a three show tour, the fact that they had traveled to get to the show (even if it was just from Philadelphia) added an air to the evening that wasn't present at either of the other two events. It was, of course, a vibe that couldn't be avoided, nor was it one that was bad, it was just added a more formal feel to the evening. With that more formal feel came different expectations of what kind of entertainment the band was supposed to produce.

Galapagos was hot and sweaty; even sold out, I believe. By contrast, the backyard at 181 East Lorain Street didn't have a door fee, even though the same amount of people showed up as did at Galapagos. Or, if it did have a cover, it was only a dollar. I can't really remember. In any event, if there was one, it was nominal. And, besides, they had a trampoline that people
could jump on while waiting for the show to begin.

I think it all comes back to the divides between the audience and the performers. Of the three, the Cookie Dusters show was most clearly a performance. As such, the audience members were most clearly audience members, with all the expectations afforded to those who had purchased tickets — they had the right to be entertained and, therefore – vocally or unconsciously – demanded that they were. People grumbled when the doors opened late, when the room was hot. There were less people at Sex Mob, and the only expectations involved seemed to have to do with a healthy Saturday night at a bar. At one point during the show, the horn players wandered off stage and into the audience with their horns, making eye contact with all those they walked by and blowing from different points in the room (offering an amusing analog vision of the all-the-rage spatial music installations). And, at "In Memoriam", people drank their beers and were transported.

Jesse Jarnow fought Mt. Oberlin and Mt. Oberlin won