I wanted to bring you an amazing set of photos tonight from some amazing bands that played in the District of Columbia. I mean, lets face it, my writing sucks. I have not found the ultimate, most poetic, brilliant way to write about music. I just blabber words that make less sense as time goes by, resorting to daft bullshit and now I am even making up words. The photos really, really help. Unfortunately for you, and especially for me, that isn’t happening tonight. Apparently, this time around, the Rock and Roll Hotel, located in the fast moving gentrified area of H street in North East DC decided to implement a no flash policy tonight. This is a shame, and it angers me, and I hate the fuck out of it. I managed a few shots and we’ll get to that in a minute, but for the time being, I want to rage out.
First and foremost, and this is gonna be very very very mean of me, to the young lady with the Mohawk, ripped jeans jacket, punker boots and tights, I have a question for you. Did you get into punk rock solely for the uniform and to impose rules on others? Because there are other jobs you can get to do that and actually look like less of a douche bag. You’re cliche presentation of yourself in a rock and roll club is alarming. Granted, by the looks of yourself that is all you are qualified to do, and I wish you much luck and success. Congratulations genius, you know how to use a flash light.
To the owners and managers of ALL the clubs in DC that host live music, I recognize that you are all in this game to make money and sell beer. I’ve come to accept this based on the fact that every single club in this fucking city has two floors and one of them is exclusively designated for the sale of alcoholic beverages. Further, the concert rooms also include these fine distractions. I realize that music doesn’t pay the bills and isn’t profitable for you, but because you have decided to all collectively get ANAL RETENTIVE about what your patrons do, I will no longer be purchasing food or alcohol in your establishments. If I want to enjoy the music I love in a live setting, I have no choice but to pay the cover price you set at the door. I accept that as a sacrifice I am willing to make to partake in this lifestyle I am endeared to. But I will not give you any more money then I have to. With rising door covers, I am sure less than half of which are going to the actual bands, I will continue to be more selective about the shows I go see in your establishments as well. The older I get, the harder it is for me to get out on weeknights anyway and this city still manages to provide enough shows in alternative spaces that I am able to maintain. But if your bottom line is to sell beer, I am going to fuck you by not buying beer. I realize that I can not convince others to take this stance, and that is fine. But in the past I’ve engaged in this practice, but that shit is done.
Also, you may not realize this, but the visual images of the bands you hire to sell beer in your crappy clubs actually serves as free advertising. See, it’s ironic that a place called the ROCK AND ROLL HOTEL, which has mimeographed fliers from legendary punk shows adorning their walls, alongside photographs of some of these anti-heroes of yore in action would not allow people to utilize a flash to capture other AMAZING bands inside their walls. I mean, if you don’t want to be a part of the tradition you are co-opting then just give Wicked Liquid a residency on Friday nights. I mean, seriously, yr gonna pack the place with that no-talent pretty boy, week after week.
Rock music, youth music, hip hop, rave culture, that shit used to be dangerous. The images of the people throwing down, night after night, losing their shit, fucking breaking their lives and shedding the despair on the stage, on the dance floor, in the parking lot or where ever used to be powerful. Now it’s nothing more then young professional hipster-turned-yuppie fuckwads at shows that I would not expect them. And what do they do, they drink 24oz cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon at unreasonable prices, act like fucktwats, get drunk, smell and bump into people. And I can’t take a photograph with a fucking flash? Seriously?
I’m so bummed, I can’t even talk about what I saw tonight. It was amazing. And there is some evidence of that. We’ll put it like this, if you aren’t with the pulse of Buildings and Imperial China click these fucking links and download these albums and next time you see there names on a marquee, go to the fucking shows. Maybe the next club they play at will at least give me three songs. Who ever thought I would actually wish for that. Here are some photos. I hope you enjoy them at least a little bit. There were so many great moments that my eyes were dying to capture. It’s you, the public that suffers the most. Sorry.
Connect the Dots (La La La)
Buildings (at least I got one good shot)
PS All these images are Copyrighted by me. If yr in one of these bands or they’re on one of yr labels use this shit. If you are the club where I took these photos and you try to use them for promotion I will fuck your shit eight ways to Sunday. Please link this post widely if you live in DC. Thanks.