The Depths of Winter (Still Technically Fall)

Today I write to you from my living room couch in my palatial two-bedroom estate here in New York City. I am drinking black coffee from a black metal mug (Venom, the pride of Newcastle!) and eating a stroopwafel, the Netherlands’ #4 breakfast funtime snack, from a bag given to me by my Finnish friend Harri in Rotterdam this past September, something I chronicled in gripping detail a post or two ago and will likely do again at some point without even thinking about it. This stroopwafel in particular has seen better days but even a bad stroopwafel is pretty good when it gets right down to it in my medical opinion. Plus I like to give my immune system a workout now and again, so I really can’t lose. Come at me, questionable Dutch breakfast foods- you will lose in the end. Probably.

Last night, I went to see my friend Julia’s band Ladybug Transistor at Union Pool in Brooklyn. As I stood there waiting for the rocking to commence, Julia’s friend Amy’s husband Magnus, a Swedish person, asked me if I went to shows often. I had to think about it for a second before realizing that last night’s show was in fact the third show I’d been to in four days, which in turn made me reflect on what a rock-n-roll type I am without even trying really.

The first of these three shows was the Budos Band, who played at White Eagle Hall in Jersey City, one of my favorite venues despite being very far from my home psychologically speaking, last Thursday night. I went with my college buddy Tom. Tom and I hadn’t rocked out together in some time, maybe not even since college, so I was glad he reached out to me about coming to the show and rocking out with him. He didn’t actually reference rocking out but I hear what I want to hear. Besides, we were drinking beer and rocking out and there is not a court in the land that would fight me on this.

This was my first time seeing the Budos Band even though they have been together for twenty years and we live in the same city so I’m not sure what either of ours problem is. They are an instrumental band from Staten Island and play a mix of Afrobeat, funk, soul, psych, prog, and whatever else and it sounds like the cops are gonna break in and bust the whole thing up at any second in the best possible way. There are horns, drums, percussion, a bass, and a guitar player on stage and I think there might have been ten guys in the band but it also could have been seventy because the bass player moved around a lot on stage and it made it harder for me to count.

One thing I really liked about the Budos Band right out of the gate was that they took the stage pumping their fists in the air and holding their instruments aloft like they knew they were awesome and were about to kick everybody’s asses with music and maybe even their fists if it came right down to it. Sometimes bands take the stage this way and end up sucking, but the Budos Band fully delivered and did in fact kick my ass with music that was at once fun, sad, sexy, and heavy, which is to say the best possible music. I even bopped my head a bit in a manner that suggested I was having a seriously good time because I was and a lot of people noticed and probably even wanted to hang out with me the more I think about it.

One thing that occurred to me during the Budos Band show was that- despite the fact that the Budos Band play what is pretty much the ultimate sexy party music according to my expert sexy party music standards- the crowd was mostly middle-aged dudes with patchy facial hair and winter hats, which left little room for sexy reciprocation from the crowd, the kind where everyone starts in turn dancing around in a sexy manner before later ending up having sex, maybe even right then and there and angering the clean up crew in the process.

“Where are all the sexy people?” I wondered as the band played, even though I was literally standing right there.

Then I imagined an alternate universe where the crowd was full of not just middle-aged men, but all sorts of men, women, and others, young and old, and ready to pork while also enjoying some seriously great music. Did people still do this? I hoped so. But where? Write back if you know. I’m not saying I will seek it out, but I would like to know that it is happening. And, if so, I hope they invite the Budos Band to play because they are the best at it (playing sexy music I mean. I can’t speak to their porking habits and honestly think it’s best I don’t have this information).

Just when I thought I was done rocking for the week, on Friday night, my girlfriend and I went to City Vineyard to see my buddy Jimmy Vivino play an acoustic blues set at City Vineyard along the Hudson. Jimmy was Conan O’Brien’s bandleader and I met him this past year as he is a member of the Bill Murray and His Blood Brothers and we have been doing shows together since last January (with hopefully more to come, something I mention in hopes that the universe is listening). He is the king and I was psyched to see him play in a stripped down setting where one could also order the salmon.

Jimmy was joined by Jesse Williams on upright bass, who was also excellent. And a buddy of his whose name I can’t remember sat in on acoustic guitar for a few numbers, upping the blues ante and general good times. Earlier in the day, Jimmy had asked if I might bring an acoustic guitar and also sit in on a few numbers, but these guys were so good I was kind of relieved I failed to borrow one in time as my acoustic blues skills are relatively limited despite the fact that I’ve definitely seen some shit in this lifetime.

In addition to the great music and trademark Vivino stage banter, Jimmy’s show was also notable in that I had an excellent cheese plate while watching it. As anyone who knows me will tell you, I have no shortage of complaints about America and somewhere near the top of that list is that the cheese plates on offer here are almost always disappointing, usually consisting of a few sad cubes of cheese, a couple crackers, and a garnish if you’re lucky. But this one was substantial, spiking my cholesterol levels and causing me to struggle up the stairs once I got home. There was even quince paste, a sure sign the cheese plate maker isn’t exactly crazy about bullshit. If you find yourself at City Vineyard anytime soon, order the cheese plate and tell them Dave sent you. Your waiter will probably be confused at that last part but I need this.

As mentioned earlier, last night I saw Ladybug Transistor at Union Pool. There are six people in the band, including my friend Julia on bass and keyboards and also Julia’s friend Gary, who I feel I am just a couple more meetings away from referencing as my own friend at our current pace, on trumpet and a guitar-like interest called the Thingy I am told. There are four less members in Ladybug Transistor than in the Budos Band but they were equally mighty. I had let the darkness of December creep into my soul earlier that day, so their trumpet-friendly indie pop did wonders to remind me not to leave NY1 on too much and get out of the house every once in a while (even though this show marked the third time I had left the house with rock purpose in four days. What am I, a surgeon?). I bought a T-shirt and everything.

You’re probably wondering how many Swedish people I talked to at the show last night and that would be three, including Julia’s husband Hampus and the band’s van driver/merch person/resident guitar pedal expert Åke Strömer, in addition to Magnus referenced in paragraph two of this entry. It should be noted that I was made aware of at least one other Swedish person in attendance last night but I didn’t have the opportunity to interact with them. All I can do is my best. Sometimes a Swede eludes you. That’s just life.

I should probably mention just for the purposes of documentation that Åke, one of the Swedish people mentioned in the last paragraph, makes excellent guitar pedals under the name Stromer Mutroniks and I bought a fuzz pedal from him last night like it was some sort of drug deal, thus bringing my total of Stromer Mutroniks pedals in my possession to two. Whether you like guitar pedals or just like to help keep Swedes off the streets I can’t recommend picking one or two up for yourself enough. Also, a new guitar pedal won’t fix your pain but it will help you bring it when needed.

Until next time,

Dave Hill, friend of the Swedish people and several others