Last night I went to CBGB’s for the Medusa Festival, which was a showcase of female hard rockers, though I primarily went to show support for one of the event’s organizers, and friend, Joe Simko.
This was the third year for the fest, and once again, there was a very healthy turn out (primarily with the lipstick lesbian crowd). The funny thing about CBGB’s is, no matter what the night or the occasion, the crowd is often a total mix of randomness, and last night was no exception. Granted, you had your die hard scenesters that been at the club since the 70′s, as well as the current generation, but there’s also quite a few businessmen, fraternity brother and sisters, soccer moms, really old guys from yachting clubs, and 10 year old kids.
To be honest I was there primarily to chat with friends, but I also got to meet and chat with one of the member of Lady Unluck, an all girl band that opened up last year’s fest. The first time Joe saw them play, they were dressed as pirates (which sounds, and was, fucking awesome… too bad I was stuck at work or something and couldn’t go that night). When I finally did catch them play, they had some glam rock vibe going on, though while everyone else was dressed as classic 70′s Brit/80′s new wave punks or members of KISS, one girl simply wore only a potato sack, which happened to be the one I was speaking with. She was ultra friendly and extremely cute, and the band as a whole is pretty damn good, by the way. I was given a flyer for a show that’s tonight (which I unfortunately can’t attend due to prior commitments) which is actually a fundraiser for a planned roller derby show. It proudly proclaimed, “Get so wasted!”
As for the bands that were actually playing last night, I really didn’t pay much attention to any of them, except the last one, Valeze, who I was super impressed by. They had an awesome sound and I think I’ll have to make note of when they play next. But the real star of the fest were either some tall guy who rocked out the whole night while standing with a broken leg and on crutches, or some really weird old guy who simply convulsed to the music with a beer on each hand (attempts to take his picture with my camera phone were unsuccessful; there wasn’t enough light).
By the end of the whole thing, my friends and I were at various levels of drunkenness, so what does one when do in such a situation? Seek out greasy food to soak up the booze of course. I guided everyone to a 24 hour burger joint where we spoke about, among many things, world face time traveler John Titor. It was funny hearing from the British gentleman in our party that Titor’s legacy is quite known in the United Kingdom, and that his warnings have even gotten members of Parliament worried.
The train ride home was entertaining thanks to a rather old and crusty homeless guy who had a genuinely funny routine. His best joke was…
” A 13 year old boy told me, ‘Ask me why I’m crying,’ so I asked him why he was crying, and then the boy said, ‘Cuz R. Kelly just stole my girlfriend!’ “
… and then he shimmied across the train singing I Believe I Can Fly. Fucking hilarious. That man not only got fifty cents from me (in quarters; that’s laundry money!) but he earned it that night.
By the time I got home, it was 4 in the morning, and I was disappointed to find out that I had improperly set my VCR, which therefore did not record Decisive Battles, a show on the History Channel which recreates famous battle via a video game engine.
