Where the streets have no name...

I have played in bands for a long time. I have had the pleasure of playing across the U.S. and parts of Canada. Some shows were always great (thanks Milwaukee), some shows were surprisingly fun (Elko, NV), and then there are the crazy ones.

 I am looking at you Paw Paw, Michigan.

I played a show in Kent, Ohio and besides someone asking if we had a keyboard amp, before the show the “promoter” asked us to help him clear out what seemed like 50 old bicycles out of the club. There was also the show in Kirksville, Missouri when we arrived back at the punk house we were staying at and found much of the furniture on the roof. This was also the place with a broken toilet. Anyway, I digress; the point is that usually the weird shows or crazy stories surrounding them are not usually where I lived.

Last night we were on the bill of a new place. The flyer indicated that there were going to be multiple stages and food. Tickets were being sold on a website and the communications from the promoter seemed to indicated promise to a good show.

When I drove up to the unmarked building I could tell it was a dump. I don’t mean graffiti on the walls or scary bathrooms, I mean like a dump.

There were three rooms with filthy white carpet that were where the musicians were supposed to perform. The DJ room had a table; the “acoustic” room had a PA that one would use for calling out Bingo, and the “rock” room well… Here are some photos.

Off the rock room was a smaller room with a two kids and a dog watching TV. There was a woman wandering around who seemed to be on speed and a dude with a bunch of keys who put up a banner outside with the name of the club.

There was no PA (see photo) but an amp with a microphone plugged into it. Don’t worry it was not too loud, because there was no power on the stage. No one really talked to us until 30 minutes after they were suppose to open the doors.

One of the bands packed up and left and we followed suit. As we were leaving a guy with some set times on a piece of paper was connecting extension cords to get power to the amp.

On the way back to my vehicle, I saw a dude getting a handy Joe in his car. 

Rock and roll. (Photos by Stingray Barbie)