The Weird Bits That Made Me: The Good Rats

Welcome To: The Weird Bits That Made Me, an exploration of the idiosyncratic or obscure pop culture that I was into as a kid. I lived a strange suburban existence, with relatively young and somewhat hip parents and there were some real gems in the offbeat cultural stuff they exposed us to as kids. I thought it would be fun to once a week explore some of that

Where to begin with The Good Rats? I suppose like anything, a basic explanation would do best. The Good Rats are (were?) a band, based out of Long Island, who were active in the late 60’s through the 70’s, recorded several studio albums, and never quite expanded beyond the Tri-State area, though again, my parents, and aunts and uncles, being of the correct age and musical temperament remained dedicated fans for, well, ever.

We spent our childhood listening through Tasty, the band’s third album over and over again, once again, because father picked it up on CD after seeing the guys play in bar one time.

Easily one of the best nights of my life (and probably many people related to me) involved The Good Rats, and that’s the story I want to tell here. Bizarrely and coincidentally, when The Allendale Bar And Grill, the only bar in the town where I grew up started bringing music acts in, they booked The Good Rats, a week before my Uncle Johnny turned 50.

Despite living in Chicago at the time, he insisted that his 50th birthday party be held at The AB & G for the show. We booked the upstairs room for dinner and got joyously drunk and then made our way downstairs to see the band play. Besides my many relatives who made the trek, we were also joined by several of my sister and brother in laws friends who also fell in love with this truly incredible Rock and Roll band.

We Are Very Drunk, and VERY YOUNG In This picture, and I beg everyone’s forgiveness

This is my favorite picture of my sister and me in existence. Including the lovely pictures from her wedding, where we actually look much better

A few months later, the Chris Kunisch owner and manager of The AB&G booked the band again and we all rolled out again. (An aside, The AB&G is currently operating with distanced indoor dining and a tented outdoor space, if you live anywhere near them, PLEASE stop by and grab some food and drink. This place has been around since The Great Depression, is family owned, and wonderful. They are the kind of place that communities desperately need, and also I love the family so very much)

About a year after those two nights, the lead singer, Peppi Marchello passed away, and in tribute, the band put together a showcase at BB King’s in midtown Manhattan, which we also attended. I’m still blown away by how much I love those nights, and how much I love the songs.

I am again blow away by our Youth in this picture. Especially Joe (Far Right). Who looks about 5

I listened to Tasty the other night to get back on my feet with this and the songs are good. They’re damn good.

Also, just as a singer, I’m in awe of Peppi’s voice, and it is an incredible instance of a scene just sticking with people. I wonder if in 20 years my kids and nieces and nephews will excitedly be introducing their friends to Coheed And Cambria or The Dear Hunter with the same fervor as we did The Good Rats.

If you want specific recommendations of where to start (and I really suggest you do): ALL of Tasty, just the whole damn thing, but especially the title track, “Get Back To My Music” and “Song Writer”. Also, “Advertisement In The Voice” and “Yellow Flower” both off of Ratcity In Blue, which are great, “Advertisement” in particular is a remarkable piece of song craft, just a lovely piece of longing and loneliness.

Fangirl Concert Series: Flogging Molly & Dropkick Murphy’s at The Stone Pony

I’m seeing a bunch of concerts this summer so I figured that I’d talk about them a little bit, y’all up for it?

Anyway, my summer concert scheduled kicked off with seeing the two most famous Celtic Punk bands in existence. (As these things go, I know it’s a niche genre.) Also, the show was at The Stone Pony, (Well, their outdoor summer stage…not the club itself…) which if you know a lot about Rock history, you’ve probably heard of. (As a primer, it’s the small club in Asbury Park, NJ where Springsteen first assembled The E Street Band.)

I was excited for this show, I’ve been a fan of both Flogging Molly and Dropkick for a while, and hadn’t seen either of them live. This was mostly out of fear, if I’m honest. I like a lot of punk music, but a lot of the crowd action freaks me out. I hate moshing and crowd surfing, so if a venue isn’t big enough that I can hang back, I tend to skip it.

Dropkick’s shows in particular, are notorious for their heavy violent pits, because you know, drunk Irish dudes and angry music.

Anyway. I drove down to Asbury on Sunday, worked my way into the summer stage area (gorgeous, really well laid out.) picked up a Coorrs Lite (Only $6! AT A CONCERT VENUE IN THE TRI STATE AREA! I was floored!) and prepared for the Shenanigans.

Shenanigans were had, friends were made, dancing occurred. I preferred Flogging Molly’s set. I’ve always preferred them though, being more of a Ramones type punk than a Sex Pistols one, and thus I place more emphasis on general songcraft than loud emotion. (There are merits to both) But man, when both bands came out and closed the show with “Shipping Out To Boston” it was such a joyous explosion of musical joy that Dropkick may have won the day. (If this were a competition.) Also enjoyable? Flogging Molly congratulating the Mexican World Cup team on their win, and dedicating their song about parenthood to the separated families at the border, to the general uncomfortable rumblings of their audience. (I had found a lovely group of queer ladies by then, and we all WOOOED and clapped, but it was quiet when they said it.) (Also, I was not like, blown away that discussion on ICE activity brought on uncomfortable grumbling from this audience rather than wild applause, but I’m glad it was brought up.) (For the record, I am staunchly AGAINST ripping children away from their parents and putting them in cages and warehouses.) (I have already called my reps about it and so should you. ALSO VOTE IN NOVEMBER!)

Discussion of human atrocities aside, I also just liked their vibe more. Flogging Molly plays like a prototypical rock and roll group, letting the music largely speak for itself, which I think suited the laid back beachy vibe of the venue. Dropkick puts on a heavier show, which was also fun, but way less my scene for this kind of thing.

I’m glad I went and I’ve broken another “single girl” barrier, by going by myself. More solo concerts to come, I’m sure!

The next concert (that I know of, unless something comes up) is Taylor Swift at MetLife Stadium on July 20.

So…that’ll be different than this…almost entirely.

 

Man Your Battle Stations: One Crazy Night With The Best Fans On The Fence

Hello Apollo…where shall I begin?

At around 2:45 PM, Saturday, Mary, Joe and I hopped in to my mom’s GMC Acadia, with Mary at wheel. We drove for somehwere between two and a half and three hours, and arrived at The Showboat Atlantic City Hotel and Casino. We checked in to our hotel room, I changed clothes (a gesture later deemed almost completely futile), had a glass of wine and we walked across the casino floor to the House of Blues music hall and stood in line.

We were in line for Coheed and Cambria, who, as I’ve said several times, are my favorite band. My sister and Joe give Coheed an enormous amount of credit for their relationship. Their love of the band was one of the things that they bonded over when they first met when they were 18. It’s immensely adorable to watch them get geared up for a show.

Actually, it’s just immensely adorable to watch them…

This show was extra special for all of us, because the opener for the show was The Dear Hunter, another one of Mary’s favorite bands.

Well, they were the second opener. The doors opened at 8 and we made out way to the pit. The first opener, a band called 3 quickly won over the crowd when they went on at 8:45. By 10:30, when Dear Hunter finished, we were all psyched for everything to start, Mike had joined us, and I had had two Miller Lites and peed three times. Then the show started.

There’s an old Irish saying, sometimes attributed to William Butler Yeats, “There are no strangers here, only friends we haven’t met yet.” I feel that way at most concerts but it comes through even more with cultish bands like Coheed. Coheed fans are so deeply passionate about this music. We pushed and pulled in the pit and after three songs I was soaked through with sweat and completely out of breath. However, 3 songs in the pit is a personal best for me, and moshing has never been something that I loved anyway. (Moshing is made much more pleasant by the presence of my six foot five ex defensive lineman brother making sure that no one roughs me up too bad.) I was determined to break out of my comfort zone on this one though and I did just that.

Mike made it a few more songs, but in the end he and I wound up hanging out by the bar, dancing, singing along and me drinking more Miller Lite. (He’d been in the casino, so already had a decent buzz going.) We made friends, danced with them, sang along with them, and we all walked out at 12:30 AM this morning, saying it was the best Coheed show we’d ever been to.

This isn’t a small claim to make. I’ve been to 4 Coheed shows, this was Mary’s eighth, Joe’s seventh, and Mike’s fifth or sixth. Mike also saw them open for Brand New when they were just starting out.

Mike has a lot of emo kid street cred for a preppy jock.

Mary was even at the legendary 10th Anniversary Neverender show. We’ve seen line up changes, (the departure of epic drummer Chris Pennie, now replaced with the lower key but extremely talented Josh Eppard. And last time Joe, Mary and I saw them bassist Mic Todd had just been arrested for armed robbery. He’s not in the band anymore.) We’ve loved all of those shows, but this one was simply impossible to explain. The energy of the room was unstoppable, Claudio was in rare form. I love seeing people enjoy what they’re doing, particularly when what they’re doing is something immensely cool, like playing in a rock band or being a professional athlete. And  last night, Claudio was having fun. He was wailing on both his guitar and vocally, telling goofy stories and laughing.

We spent the rest of the night, drinking gambling and laughing. We didn’t get to bed until 5:30 AM.

I love my family. I love this band. I love that when we found out this was happening it was a complete no brainer for us. This was going to happen. We were going to go. We were going to have an amazing time. And we did.

The Afterman Part 1: Ascension comes out on October 9. You’ll be hearing more about Coheed and Cambria from me in the mean time as bits and pieces leak out.

10 Days!

When I’m Out In The Street

I’m kind of in full on concert mode these days and it’s pretty great. Last night I went to see Bruce Springsteen at Met-Life Stadium.

I’ve seen Springsteen many times. This is in fact the third time this year I’ve seen The Boss live. (We go at least once every time he’s in the area.) If you haven’t seen a Springsteen concert, or you’re “not a fan,” I suggest going. You will be a fan by the time the show is over. You may even be a fan by the time the first song is over. I’ve seen this happen. (April, Madison Square Garden, my sister Mary’s boyfriend, Joe.)

This show I was down in the general admission floor with Michael, Mary, Joe, Katherine and Mike’s friend Jeff. We also ran in to a guy I hadn’t seen since middle school and we all hung out dancing, drinking, laughing and having an amazing time.

Bruce Springsteen is kind of like the Giants, in that it was just always tied up in my family history. My parents met and fell in love while he was starting to break out in the mid seventies, their early marriage, (before the 3 of us kids came in and made their lives so much brighter and more wonderful) was in the early to mid 80’s, when The River and Born in The USA ruled the world. This is music that is deep inside of me.

It was one of the stranger Springsteen concerts that I’ve ever attended. The set list was a bizarre amalgam of new songs (“Wrecking Ball” the title track of his most recent album is like the greatest explanation of how Jersey people think of themselves.) covers, and obscure album tracks.(Anytime he plays “Lost in The Flood” and “Bobby Jean,” you know you’re probably not going to hear “Thunder Road” is what I’m saying.) “Rosalita,” which is usually played last, was played around 10 PM.

I had an amazing time, I really did. It was a strange mix though.

A Heart Don’t Forget Something Like That

I’ve been listening to country music for about seven years. Longer than that if you count Shania Twain (I don’t count Shania Twain). It all started when my brother came home from college in Washington DC, talking about Tim McGraw.

“Who?”

“Tim McGraw. You know him, Reen, he’s married to Faith Hill.” I stared at him dumbfounded. But then, when he would drive me places, we would listen to Tim McGraw. And wow did I like this music.

He also looks like this. And that is appealing to 16 year old girls, for some reason.

It didn’t take long after that for some of my other friends to come out of the woodwork, talking about how much they loved country music. It was like this weird secret that none of us ever talked about, but we all had in common. It’s hard when you live in the suburbs of New York, where there’s no country music radio station (and this is pre Pandora, Spotify and even I-Pods were new and only a few of my friends had them…), and where every teenager is trying to more of a sophisticated New Yorker than anything else, to embrace this kind of music, and to find new stuff was even harder.

My friends and I used to trade mix CD’s (remember Mix CDs?) of country music with our favorite stuff on them. Mine were always loaded down with Tim and Faith, had some Toby Keith (my friend Cha and I started drinking whisky because of Toby Keith…though we hate admitting that) and the occasional Dolly Parton or Kenny Rogers track.

Then one day a friend handed me a CD that started with a song called, “She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy.” I looked at the listing, Kenny Chesney? How had I not heard of this guy? So I went home, went on Limewire (remember Limewire?) and downloaded a whole bunch of Kenny Chesney. I loved how clear it was that yes, he was straight country, but he also seemed to be the clear successor to Jimmy Buffet

“No shoes, no shirt, no problem!”

I’ve been hooked ever since. I was lucky enough to go to college in a place that did have a country station, and met other people who were in to this music.

Last night I went to The Brothers of The Sun tour concert. It’s a dual tour headlined by Tim McGraw and Kenny Chesney. I had an incredible time. I was with my immediate family and my cousin Billy, as well as Juli and Kate.

Also, I owe Juli and Kate and apology for not introducing them earlier. Because seriously, they should have been friends for years!