St. Andrew at The Doubting Thomas Gallery
Well, here I am again. At least this morning I woke up hungover and not still drunk. The first of so many good things about last night. The cast of characters: two gallery owners (Theresa: Doubting Thomas and Margo: The Boot), my painter friend Maria, Andrew (more later on him), Andrews friend Buster, a dude and his girlfriend who are on tour from New Jersey (the opening act), a couple from Lancaster PA who were hitching to Oregon, a couple of Maria and Andrew’s friend I don’t know and can’t remember names of, the two guys in Park Bench (I think that is the name of the band), two fans one if whom had so obviously dragged her husband along, the beautiful blond who lives upstairs, and me (off in the corner watching the on- and off-stage shows). The event was a concert at the Doubting Thomas Gallery in Tremont staring St. Andrew with Park Bench and the dude from New Jersey.
The show currently at the gallery is anime themed, a subject I like a lot. The art was more crafty than artsy, but interesting none the less. Nothing impressive, but fun to look at. I hadn’t made it to the Artwalk for the opening, I was still in Belize, so it was nice to see the show before it was taken down. It is mostly drawings and computer images that were drawn or painted on, but there were a few kimonos hanging in the back. It is worth a walk around the gallery, but not a trip to Tremont just to see it. Fortunately, I had other good reasons for being there that made the trip worth it and more.
The first performer was the guy who was on tour from NJ with his girlfriend. She was traveling with him, but doesn’t perform with him. He is more of a poet than a musician and started out his set with a spoken word piece about the evils of hippy love and that all we really need is hard-working, in your face style love, none of that namby-pamby shit from the 60s. He was kind of a poser; black shirt, black pants, and a black fedora with a thin red tie and tap shoes for a rhythm section, which actually is not a bad idea (the tap shoes that is). He couldn’t sing on key or play guitar well, but he put it out there.
The second band was Park Bench, or Living on a Park Bench or something like that. I’ll try to find out. I really liked these guys. Raw to the bone, literally frothing at the mouth and bloody guitar strings, emotion. His vocal style is a lot of screaming, but there is a definite sense of pace, meter, and tonality. The dude breaks out a 1950s Telecaster that was totally sweet and I was already impressed before they started playing. The ware patterns on the fingerboard were just classic, totally what they should be for a well used guitar. He plays guitar pretty well, although somewhat unconventionally, in a good way. The songs are very stream of consciousness. The keyboard player confessed to having trouble keeping up with him. Everything this guy had to say was blunt, upfront, and in your face. And when he was done telling you, he was done. It was funny; the only way you knew the song was over was because he stopped abruptly and said “thank you.” It’s not exactly your conventional cadence, but it seemed to work.
St Andrew, (Andrew Charles: formerly of Knife Dance and Step Sister) was the reason everybody was there, except for the couple from NJ who stupidly left to find some fun in Cleveland on a Thursday night and missed Andrew. I have known Andrew for going on twenty years at this point, although I never knew he had a stage name until last night. He is a fantastic guitar player and performer, but it has only been in the last year that he has started singing. He was so clueless when he got started that he was actually asking me for vocal advice one night over at Maria’s because I had spent about ten years singing in choirs. It's something I was flattered by at the time and cannot help bragging about now. He has worked hard at it and hit open mikes everywhere he could and taken any opportunity to perform he could get. He is still testing it out and seeing what he can do with his voice, but what a difference a year has made. As raw as Park Bench was, he was real. He has gone from raging underground Punk to Honky-Tonk blues troubadour. With a harp around his neck, a tambourine under his heals and tiny amp he makes a powerful sound. I am one jaded motherfucker, and I got chills from his performance. Andrew is a truly talented musician, the kind of talent that makes it an art. They call it soul, and as totally non-spiritual as I am, even I have to admit he has something extra special.
The event as a whole was fun. The crowed was tiny, swelling to a massive baker’s dozen plus the two guys in Park Bench. It was a total bohemian art crowd evening, complete with cheep red wine in plastic cups and low-end beer. Maria was in full form, moving Andrew’s little amp to the middle of the floor in the middle of his performance (i.e., while he was playing) and almost ripping the pickup off his guitar, so she could be part of the show. They were living together for a long time when I first met them, but no longer, although they are still good friends. About halfway through the second act the hitchhiking couple came walking in with small backpacks and bedrolls. They were interesting to talk to, although I didn’t, opting instead to eavesdropped on their conversations. I got to catch-up with Buster, who I hadn’t seen in well over a year. To top the evening off, this totally beautiful blond walks in while Andrew was playing. I wouldn’t quite say stunning, but it was hard to look away. She turns out to be very nice; she would have to be to talk to me. We actually had a conversation that was more than flirty bullshit and polite small talk. The beauty part is she loved Andrew's performance and will probably be at the next one, so unlike most of the women I run across, I will get to see her again. There is no way in hell it will ever be more than friendly, but I still love hanging around with beautiful women.
So the checklist of good things about last night includes, excellent live music, hanging with the bohemian artist crowed, the art show at The Doubting Thomas Gallery, which included anime themed pieces, a good buzz, and a beautiful new friend (hopefully). Oh, and the hangover I'm writing through. A good night indeed. The best part is there should be a repeat performance (sans the NJ poet) at the Artwalk opening in a couple of weeks. Andrew is going to be there and I am almost certain I heard Theresa ask the guys from Park Bench if they wanted to play too.
The show currently at the gallery is anime themed, a subject I like a lot. The art was more crafty than artsy, but interesting none the less. Nothing impressive, but fun to look at. I hadn’t made it to the Artwalk for the opening, I was still in Belize, so it was nice to see the show before it was taken down. It is mostly drawings and computer images that were drawn or painted on, but there were a few kimonos hanging in the back. It is worth a walk around the gallery, but not a trip to Tremont just to see it. Fortunately, I had other good reasons for being there that made the trip worth it and more.
The first performer was the guy who was on tour from NJ with his girlfriend. She was traveling with him, but doesn’t perform with him. He is more of a poet than a musician and started out his set with a spoken word piece about the evils of hippy love and that all we really need is hard-working, in your face style love, none of that namby-pamby shit from the 60s. He was kind of a poser; black shirt, black pants, and a black fedora with a thin red tie and tap shoes for a rhythm section, which actually is not a bad idea (the tap shoes that is). He couldn’t sing on key or play guitar well, but he put it out there.
The second band was Park Bench, or Living on a Park Bench or something like that. I’ll try to find out. I really liked these guys. Raw to the bone, literally frothing at the mouth and bloody guitar strings, emotion. His vocal style is a lot of screaming, but there is a definite sense of pace, meter, and tonality. The dude breaks out a 1950s Telecaster that was totally sweet and I was already impressed before they started playing. The ware patterns on the fingerboard were just classic, totally what they should be for a well used guitar. He plays guitar pretty well, although somewhat unconventionally, in a good way. The songs are very stream of consciousness. The keyboard player confessed to having trouble keeping up with him. Everything this guy had to say was blunt, upfront, and in your face. And when he was done telling you, he was done. It was funny; the only way you knew the song was over was because he stopped abruptly and said “thank you.” It’s not exactly your conventional cadence, but it seemed to work.
St Andrew, (Andrew Charles: formerly of Knife Dance and Step Sister) was the reason everybody was there, except for the couple from NJ who stupidly left to find some fun in Cleveland on a Thursday night and missed Andrew. I have known Andrew for going on twenty years at this point, although I never knew he had a stage name until last night. He is a fantastic guitar player and performer, but it has only been in the last year that he has started singing. He was so clueless when he got started that he was actually asking me for vocal advice one night over at Maria’s because I had spent about ten years singing in choirs. It's something I was flattered by at the time and cannot help bragging about now. He has worked hard at it and hit open mikes everywhere he could and taken any opportunity to perform he could get. He is still testing it out and seeing what he can do with his voice, but what a difference a year has made. As raw as Park Bench was, he was real. He has gone from raging underground Punk to Honky-Tonk blues troubadour. With a harp around his neck, a tambourine under his heals and tiny amp he makes a powerful sound. I am one jaded motherfucker, and I got chills from his performance. Andrew is a truly talented musician, the kind of talent that makes it an art. They call it soul, and as totally non-spiritual as I am, even I have to admit he has something extra special.
The event as a whole was fun. The crowed was tiny, swelling to a massive baker’s dozen plus the two guys in Park Bench. It was a total bohemian art crowd evening, complete with cheep red wine in plastic cups and low-end beer. Maria was in full form, moving Andrew’s little amp to the middle of the floor in the middle of his performance (i.e., while he was playing) and almost ripping the pickup off his guitar, so she could be part of the show. They were living together for a long time when I first met them, but no longer, although they are still good friends. About halfway through the second act the hitchhiking couple came walking in with small backpacks and bedrolls. They were interesting to talk to, although I didn’t, opting instead to eavesdropped on their conversations. I got to catch-up with Buster, who I hadn’t seen in well over a year. To top the evening off, this totally beautiful blond walks in while Andrew was playing. I wouldn’t quite say stunning, but it was hard to look away. She turns out to be very nice; she would have to be to talk to me. We actually had a conversation that was more than flirty bullshit and polite small talk. The beauty part is she loved Andrew's performance and will probably be at the next one, so unlike most of the women I run across, I will get to see her again. There is no way in hell it will ever be more than friendly, but I still love hanging around with beautiful women.
So the checklist of good things about last night includes, excellent live music, hanging with the bohemian artist crowed, the art show at The Doubting Thomas Gallery, which included anime themed pieces, a good buzz, and a beautiful new friend (hopefully). Oh, and the hangover I'm writing through. A good night indeed. The best part is there should be a repeat performance (sans the NJ poet) at the Artwalk opening in a couple of weeks. Andrew is going to be there and I am almost certain I heard Theresa ask the guys from Park Bench if they wanted to play too.
posted by TOC | 12:09 PM
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