 | BRMC and Phoenix Bars I took a moment to peruse the Phoenix New Times, which is the equivalent of the Village Voice, and came across a listing for BRMC (Black Rebel Motorcycle Club) playing at some club called The Marquee. I have one of their records, which I think is "okay", and probably would never venture out of the house to see them in NYC, but since I was in Phoenix, I said "What the hell!" Off I went to Tempe, AZ, which is about fifteen miles from where my parents live. That's the thing about Phoenix. Everything is spread so far apart, and it takes forever to get anywhere! You definitely need a car to even exist here. So I jump in Dad's SUV and off I went to Tempe to see BRMC. I arrived just as they were going on. I sort of wanted to see the opening band, Black Angels, but so be it. I coughed up the $20.00 for the ticket, and proceeded towards the bar to order up one of the fine local beers that they offered. What was it called??? Anyway, the smoke machine was working its magic along with the dimly backlit stage. Oooh. Mysterious. The lankey, indie rocker boys made there way onto the misty stage, along with their big ol' hollow body guitars (that much better to get that Jesus and Mary Chain sound, don'tcha know). They played some songs, some of which I was familiar with, others not so much. Overall and general, though, I was really bored. I guess it doesn't really say much, considering most live bands bore me these days, but for $20.00! Honey, lend me some excitement, please. I'll pay you back later. I sensed that the set was coming to an end, so I decided to inquire with my bartender as to where a good bar might be in the Phoenix/Tempe area. He gave me directions to a place called Casey's which is in Tempe. He told me that it was a place where old timers (old punks, as it were) and college age indie rockers hang out. Okay, sounds like my kind of place. At first I thought that I might just go another night, but nah, that would be too complicated. Or would that have made things easier? I'm not sure. Hindsight is not 20/20 in this case. I made my way down the road to Casey's, which is definitely nothing like what I would have imagined. It was one of those cabana style bars with lots of outdoor seating, and backlit palm trees. Frankly it looked more like something out of Miami Vice than a place where old punks and indie rockers hang out. But I decided that I was not in a place to judge, and went in. I sat down at the bar, Ordered my drink(s), and began talking to the woman who was sitting next to me. She was with her boyfriend, who later, after finding out that I was a chef from NYC, asked me if I knew Lindsay. Do I know Lindsay??? Of course I do! Ah, my world just keeps on getting smaller and smaller as the years go by. Later some more of their friends came over and invited us all to sit with them. As it turns out, they're all friends with Lindsay. Isn't that just the way that towns like Phoenix work, though? There's always only a couple of places that everybody goes, and they all go there, so everybody knows one another. That's the way Minneapolis was too. After throwing back a few more drinks, we all went to what seemed to be the centrally located, house of kindred spirits and good times. Whatever that means. I think at first they were all kind of wondering what the hell I was doing there. That shifted somewhat once they found out that I was friends with Miss Lindsay. Once again, it's a small world. There of course is way more to this story than the sketchy details that I've outlined above, but I'll leave it at this. I finally made my way home around 8:00 in the morning. Oh, it's good to be so grown up. 2:16 AM - 2 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove |
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