Last week, I made a challenge to Nickelback fans, and based on record sales, there should be millions to write me in support of the band. The only responses I got back were letters commending the column, voicing their opposition to the Titans of Trash Rock. Nickelback fans, don’t you support your band? Where is the Chad love? Unless I receive some sort of defense, I will assume that no one actually likes Nickelback and A. One of the band members has really rich parents who continue to purchase thousands of their records or B. It’s a grand government conspiracy to keep these guys going. Anyway, I’m still waiting, and I hope to get someone to be the point to my counterpoint. I’m glad I got that out of my system.
This weekend, I was thinking about live music. It was in-between my ponderings of love, war and other horribly vague concepts. It came about from watching a friend’s cover band play at the humongous and cleverly named Blooze Bash this past Saturday. Well, you see, if you take out the “l.” Do you see it? Well, the band’s set was filled with rabble-rousing and ridiculous covers, and it was a ton of fun, minus the bro pit that formed during any slightly rocking song.
I got to thinking that house shows, basement shows and stage-less shows have the potential to be much more interesting and enjoyable experiences. A big stage separates you from the musician, and, therefore, you’re farther away from the music, regardless of how loud the sound equipment is. A crowded room, making eye contact with the band, stomping the same floor they are – that’s where it’s at.
So then I got this other awesome idea: bathroom shows. Bands should play in public bathrooms.
A level of intimacy comes from a band performing sans stage; think of the personal dynamic of a show taking place where people pee!
Admittedly, I’ve had this idea for some time. I think the men’s bathroom on the first floor of Greg Hall would make an awesome venue. There’s a 6-foot-high ledge that protrudes from one wall that has urinals on both sides of it. The giant, old windows looking out into a courtyard and the high ceilings give it the feel of a cathedral. The acoustics in this place are probably piss-your-pants (no pun intended) good.
The drummer would set up in a stall, sitting on a toilet. The bassist could stand on two sinks while the lead singer could strut along the ledge. A horn section pokes their heads through the open window as the crowd dances in-between. Maybe we should get Kevin Drew and the Broken Social Scene crew to do that when they come to town. I am throwing my hat in and announcing my dedication to having weird-locale concerts here at the University. I mean, I heard Ying-Yang Twins was crazy, but how much crazier would it have been in the scary/haunted basement of Lincoln Hall?
Got any abandoned spaces with great acoustics that are near and dear to your heart? Let Brian know at firstname.lastname@example.org.