Goodbye Bozos

The Mighty Handful (Final Show), Shea Stadium, 7/25/09

They always played best when they didn't care about putting on a show. By the time the end had come their act was a known commodity and everyone knew what to expect, and so did they. The set list was basically the same as the last four shows and they ended with Uptown Drunks, which is still my favorite song of 2008 (Paper Planes is #2). Some people were crying because something so insignificant in the grand scheme can still have meaning. We were all young and beautiful once, and now we are old and tired and have other things to do. Toil. Death. When the house cut the PA, it faded up Born to Run, which seemed appropriate.

Somewhere in this anecdote is a comment on the changing of the seasons and the coming of autumn and then winter and then spring, when things begin again.

Earlier in the night there was an older guy floating around who looked like a NARC. He was taking pictures, but it was strange because no one had seen him before; no one wanted to engage with him because he looked like a NARC. As it turns out he was shooting for Paper Magazine for an article about Shea Stadium, which is all fine and dandy except he left before the main event. He couldn't have known.

The lead picture that accompanied the article ended up being a static shot of Museyroom, and there were a few shots of kids milling about and drinking or smoking. In one picture, Rich Toledo is sitting against the wall, alone, tired. He is wearing one of the twenty or so Mighty Handful shirts that were made by hand and sold before the first 741 show. I know it's Rich because I recognize him and I know the shirt he is wearing because he wore it to every Handful show. From the picture in the magazine, however, he's just some kid in a messy shirt.

Somewhere in this anecdote is a comment on defeat being snatched from the jaws of victory or the randomness of opportunity or how fleeting things can be.

I Feel Like I'm Moving Further Away From It.

It's been almost a week since I shot Radiates and because I am old and my memory fades easily, I'm having a difficult time recalling details. Seeing as I'm left with impressions, I have managed to make the lamest music review since that time that Chris Ott reviewed the Slanted And Enchanted reissue for Pitchfork with the [awful], scanned, hand-written pages.

As we might (or might not) remember, being young means curfew and the promise of swift and brutal justice at the hands of parentals if curfew is broken. This is not all together unjustified as The City is a horrible place full of crazies and situations that would put Young White Girls In Peril. In short, I get the point. This leads to a certain problem for young bands that draw the last straw and go on with the post-curfew slot in a three-act bill: You have no one to play to, or the number of people has decreased to the point where the room is half empty. Sad story, bro.

Please recall the Ideal Gas Law, which can be used to show that the pressure of a gas (particles) in a small volume is greater than that of an equal amount of gas (particles) in a large volume.

Because the Ideal Gas law is expressed as an equation (PV=nRT), you can also determine how small a volume has to be to achieve the same pressure with fewer particles. Of course, people don't react in the same way that a gas does -- they'll go where the want to. It's up to the band to make them want to go. With that in mind, I think this illustration makes sense:



I call it Gin's Ideal Crowd Law.

In practical terms:

This Bores Me.

February has been a slow month for me work-wise. I've taken to shooting shows more often in order to keep my head out of my ass and get myself away from Photoshop -- the longer I fiddle around with selection tools the more likely I am to do something totally fucking [stupid] like selectively colorize everything.

In this spirit, please do let me know what's out there for the next few weeks. I am actively soliciting interesting bands to shoot. God bless my friends, but they only play so often. Bonus points if you play at a venue that is not totally fucking [stupid] when it comes to lighting.

Hi-V to The Choke, Knife Fight (bros) and WLWL for putting together a game group of bands to suffer through the conditions at Don Pedro's (the worst venue in Brooklyn).

Late Hi-V to Crystal Stilts, Silk Robes (bros), Vivian Girls and My Teenage Stride for making my Valentime's Day less [stupid].

R.I.P Tonic?

It seems that Tonic is closing and because I'm feeling tired and belligerent I'll write this as an epitaph:

The first time I went to Tonic, I shot some dudes' klezmer band.

A few years later I shot These Are Powers:



Somewhere in between I forgot where Tonic was.

The dudes' whose klezmer band I shot still owe me money.