LIC Notes

I don’t think I’m down with the global warming thing. This new autumn weather – sultry/cold rain/humid/chill breeze – sucks. So New York is the new Austin; I almost turned on the a/c today, and it’s time to write the November rent check. But if this were really Austin, the rent would be lower.

 

In a spasm of quasi-political action, I refrained from flipping the switch and went food shopping using canvas bags. Having ditched my ’89 Honda Accord LX for a purple Fuji Absolute 12-speed, I’m now feeling virtuous but, well, a bit bland.

 

You know the temporary yet effective solution to that: I turned to sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll. I’ve hoisted more than my fair share of Radeberger* this past month, and even got to meet the Radeberger Girls. One of them bought me a beer – I think she fancies me a bit!

 

Oh right, you’re here for the music. October’s de-blanding has mixed Brazilian surf riffs, sax-playing around Japanese swing, and Croatian dance-party rock. On one LIC Bar evening, João Erbetta and his band spin out high-energy surf tunes with a Portuguese accent. My usual problem with much Brazilian music comes from its being too pastel and languid (yes, it’s my problem); I’m happy to listen to surf music anytime, and believe I hear complications under the fun. Erbetta neatly reverses those tropes. His playing is fluid, exciting, precisely shaped, and quite engaging, so much so that I don’t really want to look under the hood to see how it all runs. I’ve heard him play in other contexts, and know he’s not just technically a savvy guitarist, but a musician who blends his personality with many genrés. Sadly, the bar was not so crowded when Erbetta played. He deserves a wider audience; while pretty well known on the scene, that and $104 will get you to your day job on the 7 train next month.

 

We’ve chatted about DB Rielly before, but that’s not going to stop me here. DB’s band followed Erbetta’s, and the party mood continued. For me, this show pivoted around the playing of the estimable Hiro Suzuki, lead guitar player in the group. Suzuki favored swing-era tunes which, by virtue of his actually being able to swing, set up a great dance mood. DB added counterpoint via his bluesy sax playing. Even some folks who’ve followed him for years realized he even played sax – turns out it was his first instrument, who knew? – and the contrast in sound lent depth to what can be a surface-y genrè. The two also collaborated beautifully on some covers of singer/songwriter tunes, like John Hiatt’s "Feels Like Rain," managing the transitions in mood gracefully without damping the party spirit.

 

By time The Dynasty took the stage, the party mood had swung to raucous. Don’t look for The Dynasty on iTunes; this was a one-off group, essentially Chris and Diana from Bad Buka, playing as part of Diana’s sister Carla’s birthday celebration (not saying which one, but “Lather” would know). And celebrate is what Bad Buka do best. I can’t say I remember much particularly that went on, other than someone shouting to the crowd, “Shut up and sing!” Everyone sang, everyone danced, it didn’t matter if you knew Croatian songs or dances; soon everyone felt like part of Carla’s family and the celebration. As the full band is playing a Hallowe’en party, I’ll try to get a more fair assessment then. Like, it’ll be easier on Hallowe’en?

 

The evening closed with Julie Kathryn, a local singer/songwriter. That transition, closing after a rowdy crowd-pleaser, is less than easy, as I’ve noted previously. It does help the neighbors get some sleep, but the previous music had opened me up so much that I found it hard to calibrate Kathryn’s stuff. Which isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy her; I did. And when she said, “I’ve never played my guitar this hard, it’s out of tune!” I though, God on ya, lass! I’ll bring positive expectations to her next gig.

 

In a final twitch of political activism, I’ll be voting before filing that next report. You know that we middle-aged, upper-middle-class white guys ALWAYS vote. (That’s why they call us The Man, right?) Not saying I won’t vote the straight The Rent Is Too Damn High party ticket, of course. Especially if I’m tempted to turn on the a/c again.

 

*Bloggers are enjoined by some federal rule to reveal every product bought for them in the course of covering their beat. I’m compiling a disclosure document that will enumerate the Pilsner, Coteaux de Languedoc, small-batch bourbon, single-malt Scotch, self-produced cd’s, brownies, Hawai’ian skunkweed spliffs, and mutual avowals of sexual desire involved; it will be available for you right around the time I complete my 2008 NYS corporate tax return.

 

The Silver Shark is always moving, just under the surface of the LIC scene. He comes up suddenly to snap up some wine and music, and perhaps bare his teeth at nearby lovely mermaids – though he generally doesn't bite. You can catch an occasional glimpse of him at your favorite LIC venue, and regularly here at his blog.