These walls are fake
Preface: Tonight was incredible.
The Lemuria/Gordon show was in jeopardy last week. We lost the house due to myriad of problems. It served its purpose, it did its time. Now it's over.
We scrambled to find a new venue. It essentially came down to Chris, Justin and I working like fiends to get this locked down. I got on the horn with the Co-Op and planted the seeds there. Justin had to go to the effort of making a mix CD of all of the bands for The Green Room, eventhough they never called him back. He also took the time to run around to Olive Ridley's and any other establishment downtown to find a spot.
City Hall seemed to fall into the laps of 56, and, just as quickly, fell right off. I could vent and scream and bitch and moan for hours. I won't do that here. Not at the moment, at least.
Suffice it so say, Chris and I took time out of our days - and money out of paychecks by leaving work - to go to a meeting that was never to happen. Then, after the anger and frustration subsided, we locked down the Co-Op as tightly as we could.
Still, it was a bit up in the air. It wasn't until around 5:30 that night (Tuesday night) that we were able to get a completely solid confirmation back from Jeff on the Co-Op. And there it was. With one full day and one afternoon left to promote, we had a show on our hands. A show we had all been looking forward to for months.
Mike helped out with flyering all over Clinton Community College as soon as we had the details on a location. His help in this shouldn't be ignored, either. He's always been great about helping to promote shows, and this one was no different.
Nervous? Of course. But I've always got an optimism that everything will work itself out, even when I know it probably shouldn't. Will kids come out to a show that has been promoted for a day and a half? Will they have kept up on the transition to a new venue that we've been posting about all over Myspace and Facebook?
As it turns out, kids will come out. As it turns out, kids will support their local music scene. As it turns out, nobody really wants to be in a stinky, dirty basement.
I'm not good at estimating, but there were probably thirty people there. That probably doesn't sound like a lot, but it is. It really is. So many new people. So many people who are always there. So many people who haven't been out to a show in a while.
I spoke about this a bit before we played Group Hugs (which disconnected all of Eric's pedals and almost killed Sheena from Lemuria), but it's something that I'd like to repeat for anyone who wasn't there (and you really should have been).
Koinonia seemed like a great idea at the time. A collective of artists and musicians coming together to put on shows and galleries and whatever else. I worked my ass off all summer for that house - booking, making flyers, promoting all by myself, because nobody else could be bothered to help. I never really got credit for it until the end of summer. Because others, who did nothing to help, liked to act as if they had been the integral cog in this machine.
It burns a little bit. Not because I need to be noticed or recognized for my efforts, but because I'd rather have nobody take credit than have someone who doesn't deserve it taking it all.
I quickly came to realize that Koinonia wasn't a collective of artists. It was one or two people doing all of the work while someone else took the credit. It was a way to give yourself points while doing nothing at all. It was a fucking sham that served as nothing more than an ego booster.
And why? There's no need for that, for any of it. There's no reason to create a subdivision within a subdivision. No reason to pull people apart and push people away even more than is already being done. It probably created more rifts within local musicians and artists than it did strong bonds.
There's just no point to split up this small community. What I saw tonight made me realize that, on the efforts of few, many will stand up and take notice. It made me feel so good to see so many people in that room tonight. So many people having fun and smiling - and staying throughout the entire show.
There are artists in Plattsburgh. There are musicians in Plattsburgh. But we aren't modern artists or punk artists or painters or sculptors. We aren't metal bands or hardcore bands or pop bands. We are artists and we are musicians. And we need to start working within ourselves if we're ever going to make anything in this town work. Not a group of us who feel alienated or segregated. Because, as much as we feel alienated from others who are making their art, they probably feel alienated from us.
There is just so much love in this town. I saw it tonight. The sooner we realize that this love can grow stronger and faster with all of us working together, the better.
Thank you to everyone who came and supported and donated. Thank you to Lemuria and Gordon Gano's Army for coming to play. Thank you to Jeff and the Co-Op for helping us in such a pinch.
And now? We have a venue. A new music venue in Plattsburgh. I spoke with Jeff after the show, and he told me that he loved every band he heard - eventhough he didn't think he would like any of them. He especially loved Gordon. Said that he would have loved to have come upstairs, but he would have wound up dancing all over the place. I told him that, next time he feels that way, he should come up.
He let me know that he would love for us to work together. To have more shows at the Co-Op - as long as it didn't bother the woman on the third floor too much. That there are several people, aside from himself, who could watch the door. More opportunities with more people and more coming together.
This whole week has just opened my eyes to everything around me. We can do so much good if we just put our minds and our hearts into it 100%.
I couldn't ask for greater friends, and I couldn't ask for a more supportive community. People may drag on Plattsburgh, but you can't deny the fact that the people here are some of the warmest and friendliest that you will ever meet.
Thanks again.
The Lemuria/Gordon show was in jeopardy last week. We lost the house due to myriad of problems. It served its purpose, it did its time. Now it's over.
We scrambled to find a new venue. It essentially came down to Chris, Justin and I working like fiends to get this locked down. I got on the horn with the Co-Op and planted the seeds there. Justin had to go to the effort of making a mix CD of all of the bands for The Green Room, eventhough they never called him back. He also took the time to run around to Olive Ridley's and any other establishment downtown to find a spot.
City Hall seemed to fall into the laps of 56, and, just as quickly, fell right off. I could vent and scream and bitch and moan for hours. I won't do that here. Not at the moment, at least.
Suffice it so say, Chris and I took time out of our days - and money out of paychecks by leaving work - to go to a meeting that was never to happen. Then, after the anger and frustration subsided, we locked down the Co-Op as tightly as we could.
Still, it was a bit up in the air. It wasn't until around 5:30 that night (Tuesday night) that we were able to get a completely solid confirmation back from Jeff on the Co-Op. And there it was. With one full day and one afternoon left to promote, we had a show on our hands. A show we had all been looking forward to for months.
Mike helped out with flyering all over Clinton Community College as soon as we had the details on a location. His help in this shouldn't be ignored, either. He's always been great about helping to promote shows, and this one was no different.
Nervous? Of course. But I've always got an optimism that everything will work itself out, even when I know it probably shouldn't. Will kids come out to a show that has been promoted for a day and a half? Will they have kept up on the transition to a new venue that we've been posting about all over Myspace and Facebook?
As it turns out, kids will come out. As it turns out, kids will support their local music scene. As it turns out, nobody really wants to be in a stinky, dirty basement.
I'm not good at estimating, but there were probably thirty people there. That probably doesn't sound like a lot, but it is. It really is. So many new people. So many people who are always there. So many people who haven't been out to a show in a while.
I spoke about this a bit before we played Group Hugs (which disconnected all of Eric's pedals and almost killed Sheena from Lemuria), but it's something that I'd like to repeat for anyone who wasn't there (and you really should have been).
Koinonia seemed like a great idea at the time. A collective of artists and musicians coming together to put on shows and galleries and whatever else. I worked my ass off all summer for that house - booking, making flyers, promoting all by myself, because nobody else could be bothered to help. I never really got credit for it until the end of summer. Because others, who did nothing to help, liked to act as if they had been the integral cog in this machine.
It burns a little bit. Not because I need to be noticed or recognized for my efforts, but because I'd rather have nobody take credit than have someone who doesn't deserve it taking it all.
I quickly came to realize that Koinonia wasn't a collective of artists. It was one or two people doing all of the work while someone else took the credit. It was a way to give yourself points while doing nothing at all. It was a fucking sham that served as nothing more than an ego booster.
And why? There's no need for that, for any of it. There's no reason to create a subdivision within a subdivision. No reason to pull people apart and push people away even more than is already being done. It probably created more rifts within local musicians and artists than it did strong bonds.
There's just no point to split up this small community. What I saw tonight made me realize that, on the efforts of few, many will stand up and take notice. It made me feel so good to see so many people in that room tonight. So many people having fun and smiling - and staying throughout the entire show.
There are artists in Plattsburgh. There are musicians in Plattsburgh. But we aren't modern artists or punk artists or painters or sculptors. We aren't metal bands or hardcore bands or pop bands. We are artists and we are musicians. And we need to start working within ourselves if we're ever going to make anything in this town work. Not a group of us who feel alienated or segregated. Because, as much as we feel alienated from others who are making their art, they probably feel alienated from us.
There is just so much love in this town. I saw it tonight. The sooner we realize that this love can grow stronger and faster with all of us working together, the better.
Thank you to everyone who came and supported and donated. Thank you to Lemuria and Gordon Gano's Army for coming to play. Thank you to Jeff and the Co-Op for helping us in such a pinch.
And now? We have a venue. A new music venue in Plattsburgh. I spoke with Jeff after the show, and he told me that he loved every band he heard - eventhough he didn't think he would like any of them. He especially loved Gordon. Said that he would have loved to have come upstairs, but he would have wound up dancing all over the place. I told him that, next time he feels that way, he should come up.
He let me know that he would love for us to work together. To have more shows at the Co-Op - as long as it didn't bother the woman on the third floor too much. That there are several people, aside from himself, who could watch the door. More opportunities with more people and more coming together.
This whole week has just opened my eyes to everything around me. We can do so much good if we just put our minds and our hearts into it 100%.
I couldn't ask for greater friends, and I couldn't ask for a more supportive community. People may drag on Plattsburgh, but you can't deny the fact that the people here are some of the warmest and friendliest that you will ever meet.
Thanks again.