No matter how clever a cover band's schtick might be, I'd rather spend $8 to see a band like The Vue (my current faves). Eight bucks for a band who rocks hard and honestly with their own excellent creativity.. Plus The Vue usually throws in a KILLER Suicide cover that gets me off more than any AC/DC cover.
(Note: In 1982 I spent 6 hours IN THE RAIN waiting for AC/DC at the Cow Palace. 'For Those About To Rock' Tour... So don't you dare call me a poser!)
To be fair, I can't deny that AC/DShe probably has the musicianship and talent to warrant their top draw status. When I learned that their singer has a side band called Nagg I was interested. My interest became greater after I heard a couple of Nagg songs on a compilation CD called 'The Sound of San Francisco'. I liked what I heard. Of course, the next step was to see them live. However, several Nagg shows in S.F. have come and gone this Summer without me making an effort to attend.
So, picture me at around 7:00pm tonight.. Glancing through the new issue of the S.F. Bay Guardian I noticed that Nagg were scheduled to play at the Bottom of the Hill. Evidently they were playing TONIGHT. The club's calendar listed them first on the bill, which meant an early evening. Excellent.... or so I thought.
By 8:00pm I was ordering a burrito at a favorite Mission District taqueria.
By 8:40pm I was ordering a beer at the Bottom of the Hill's bar. I wandered past the merch table and noticed that Nagg's new CD wasn't being displayed. Hmmm. Danger, Will Robinson...
By 8:50pm the club was still empty with no more than 15 people milling about. It wasn't the sparse crowd that concerned me.. It was the type of people who were milling about and slowly trickling through the door.
They weren't Rockers.
The kidz were way too thrift store nerdy.. Their retro thrift store shoes clashed with my dirty black engineer boots. Their retro thrift store sweaters and blazers clashed with my black Dickies jacket. One guy was wearing a too small 70's belted jacket and was obviously trying to channel Oscar Wilde as he held his mixed drink in one hand and posed his other hand 1/2 way in his jacket pocket. Something wasn't right.
I then overheard the sound guy say the show was starting a 1/2 hour late due to a problem with the first band. I found a copy of the S.F. Guardian (the same issue that had inspired me to venture out of the house) and turned to the Bottom of the Hill ad.. SON OF A BITCH! Nagg are playing TOMORROW night. GODDAMMIT! O.K... NOW you can call me a poser.
It turned out tonight's show was being headlined by an act called Cex... Evidently he's an indie electronica act or something. Evidently he's quite popular. However, tis NOT my scene. Faster than you could say "GUITAHH!" I had downed the rest of my pint and was outta there. By 9:15pm I was unlocking the door to my house.
Beer count = 1. A surgically precise fuck up. This incident wasted about 75 minutes of my life, but I (re)learned a valuable lesson. Kids, always ask yourself "What is today's date?" On the way back to the car I called myself a fag. I miss The Mummies.
"My love is stronger than dirt..."
