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This was a gig we played in my college band. It was at Princeton University, at an “eating club”. At Princeton, the upperclassmen joined clubs which were a cross between a fraternity/sorority and a dining hall.
I don’t remember if you picked your eating club or if they picked you, but there was some matching involved. Each eating club had its own vibe, its own social niche.
The eating club we were playing at was called Terrace Club. It was home to the oddball, artsy, mad-genius types we were told.
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Our band, at that time, was in a transitional phase. We had been a New Wave cover band that played parties and dances.
But I had come from the Portland punk scene, so I was encouraging the guys in the direction of becoming a real band, meaning write our own songs, develop our own sound, play local clubs more, play college dances less.
The other guys—mostly due to where they grew up—hadn’t been part of a local scene like I had. I knew how it worked. One of my best friends in high school had formed a band, wrote a bunch of songs, found a cool girl singer, and become one of the top bands in Portland (The Ziplocs). All of this before he left for college!
So I was gradually steering my bandmates in that direction. And gradually, it worked. We eventually did become a real band, with records and college airplay and local fans.
But we hadn’t gotten there yet. We were still finding our way. And we still took gigs like this one at Princeton. Not that it wasn’t always fun and exciting to play out. And of course, it would be extra thrilling to play somewhere like PRINCETON UNIVERSITY which was cool just to walk around in and think about.
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