show #5: hammerstein 1, and scrapbook presentation
I awoke Thursday morning to two pieces of news:
1) the "secret show", of which I'd first learned in DC when seesindreams texted me about it, was to be held at Hammerstein Friday afternoon. in order to go, we had to jump through some hoops on Myspace and bring the resulting printed page to the NYU Tower Records, where we'd receive a wristband.
2) 5hiddenthoughts' parents were so pissed about the excursion to Boston that she'd been forbidden from going to the rest of the shows. this is something I couldn't even conceive of.
Diana, corvidqueen, and I showered and dressed, then headed to Nancy's to pick up their tickets for that night, along with a charcoal drawing she'd done for Bob. we were nearly in tears. we caught a 1pm train from White Plains into Grand Central, when it occurred to me that I still hadn't figured out the note that would accompany my photos in the scrapbook. seeing as we were planning to present it after that night's show, I decided to hunker down and write it. the resulting few sentences were sappier than I'd've liked, but considering the distance I'd travelled in the previous days for this band, and the amount of sleep I hadn't gotten, I decided it was just fine.
the three of us bustled down to Tower to get our wristbands; then I put Diana and Christina on the train to Hammo while I ran home to collect up scrapbook stuffs and change into my show clothes. I finally got to the venue just after 3, to find the following already settled into the front of the line (secured by vijin and misspotter at 11am): nevoreiel, Diana, Liburd, lightstarangel, ursamajr, thechairguy, take_the_fifth, im_not_indie, whitestrpsrock, and several people I never met properly. bachelorettia, jubileebanker, aprilrhye, good_conduct, and prongsphile were a bit further back, and devil_eye swept in at the last moment to make use of the spare ticket I'd bought.
Olga and I settled into to the final assembly of the scrapbook -- adding the last half-dozen entries, putting together the preface page (Shar donated her pretty, non-spastic handwriting for the explanatory blurb :)), photographing the whole thing for posterity. security kept making us move further and further back, since that's what security does, and I felt like a huge asshole for not being able to take up less space.
eventually 6pm rolled around. I bundled my camera in my sweater, then in the towel I'd brought to lay under the scrapbook. I knew it was pretty half-assed as camera concealment went, but I've always had an easy time at Hammerstein. imagine, then, my surprise when:
1) Security Cunt finds my camera,
2) says I can't bring it in (apparently the "Franz allow fans to take pictures" rule, as quoted later to swoonstar and teeneen, doesn't apply if the fan might be capable of taking nice sharp pictures), and
3) tells that Hammerstein has nowhere to check bags or "illegal" objects, and that I'll have to dispose of it on my own.
aside from being ludicrously untrue (Hammo always runs a bag check, even if it's disorganized and their fees constitute highway robbery), this statement is just omgwtfbbq abSURD in a city where residents don't own cars and even people from the 'burbs take mass transit to shows. this is not as simple as going to put it in the car. thinking that maybe Cuntie can be reasoned with, I offered to leave my battery or "memory card" outside, but no, the only way I can enter is to leave my $500 camera on the sidewalk for four hours. eventually I realized I was holding up others in our group and moved away. Cuntie yells at me a bit more, I yell back that I'm leaving to put it somewhere safe, and I book it to the subway.
Hammo is closer to my office (at 45th and 6th) than my apartment, so I swallowed my pride and desperation and head uptown on the 1. beet red, sweaty, and shaking with fury, I passed a friend from HR (of all departments) on the street and then, since it was 6.15 and the biweekly group meeting was letting out, I run into half of my 30-person department, including my boss and his boss, in the ~90 seconds I'm on the floor. the public transit gods smiled on me once again and I hopped right on a downtown train. I was inside Hammerstein for good by 6.30, by which time our entire posse had learned of my plight and hogged up some extra space in the middle. Olga and I passed our wait by chatting with a nice Death Cabber who'd been right behind us in line.
the Cribs went on promptly at 7.30. generally I prefer to get busted on the camera offense earlier rather than later, because it leaves me more time to get past my irritation and enjoy the show without the use of my viewfinder. even with the incredible hassle of my little field trip, this held true, and I bounced around happily with Diana, Lisa, and Sarah. it's my fifth time seeing the Cribs play the same exact set, and all of a sudden I noticed -- Gary plays barefoot?! where have I been? the guys seemed much more comfortable playing a room where the silly girls in the front weren't the only ones enjoying themselves. Ryan lights up, Ross climbs all over his kit, and I decide to keep on not minding that the tricks are the same every time.
people kept pushing into the left-side front row, so by the time Franz hit the stage, we'd shifted a good six feet to the right. I'd originally wanted to be Nickside for both Hammo shows; standing by Alex results in nice pictures of the whole band, yeah, but Nick is my boy, and I hadn't properly shown my allegiance. not like I had anything to worry about -- he spotted me by the end of "This Boy" and gave the usual half-smile/nod. the rest of the guys followed suit soon thereafter.
a few songs in, I caught Bob re-examining the front row, looking from me to Diana to Liburd and back with a slightly bewildered expression. I realized he was looking for Nancy, which I pointed out to Diana, which in turn made us wail a little. Nick did the same later on. :'(
the night's requisite Lauren/Nick OTP Moment™ came during "Jacqueline," when he caught my eye during the chorus of "Jacqueline." yes, Nicky, it is better on holiday, although strictly speaking I was on paid vacation. ;) plenty of eyesex through the rest of the set, too.
Alex was... well, he'd been getting laid through the entire northeast leg of the tour, but he was extra sexed-up. he collapsed to the floor three times, once dragging himself along the stage, another time bucking his hips into his guitar in a very convincing, potentially painful gesture. (maybe standing center isn't so bad, after all. ;))
it was probably the best I'd seen Franz in New York, I'm realizing now in retrospect. they were thrilled to be back, and Alex said so. he said "Eleanor" was "a song about being in love, and being in love with New York City" (which is the same thing macphista said back when the album leaked ♥). same setlist as Ithaca/DC, and I couldn't have cared less whether the Death Cab kiddies were into it or not, because I was sandwiched between people who were simply unable to stop moving.
immediately after the set, we booked it outside, at least as quickly as we could through the press of DCFCers. I carried my (heavy!) bag and scrapbook over my head for lack of space in a less aerobic position. once we'd collected everyone outside (except for Nicole, who was waiting for an Olga who never made it to the bathroom, and whose number I'd mistyped in my phone), we proceeded around to the stage door on 35th St -- thanks to the Modest Mouse incident, I'm decently familiar with Hammerstein's internal layout :-p -- and set up camp twenty feet from the door.
about half an hour had passed when someone announced that Nick had just left, shielding his face and ducking off between a couple trucks. the words "Nicholas McCarthy, get your voluptuous ass back here!" were already in my throat when I decided to keep on not being crazy and let the boy be. (fucker.) venue security, knowing how dangerous fangirls can be, set up barricades and forced us behind them. I established myself all the way at the end, figuring that I didn't want to take up other people's time when Alex came out. Bob was next to emerge, and he was friendly to the max (how un-DC!). by this time it had become clear to me that I'd be in charge of scrapbook presentation in Nancy's absence, so I focused on figuring out wtf I was gonna say (and just how I'd manage to keep my shit together at all, since I'd never managed composure before with any member of the band) instead of scoring pictures and cute anecdotes. Paul followed, Esther in tow, and he's still too cool for me to talk to. I decided to take one last prepatory glance through the scrapbook, and I was just forging Nicole's signature on the first page when the door opened again and Mr Kapranos emerged.
Alex decides to do autographs first, so down the line he goes, signing albums, t-shirts, bags, you name it. finally he gets to Olga and me, sharpie in hand, and goes to sign the scrapbook. I'm like, "don't sign that, it's for you." he looks at me a bit quizzically and takes the album. looking at the cover, he asks, "oh, is this all pictures of New York?" as he's opening it, I explain that no, "it's a rather elaborate token of our appreciation, from all the New York fans. Nancy was originally gonna be the one to give it to you, but her parents weren't fond of our trip to Boston last night."
Alex takes one glance at the first page and remarks, "oh, it's the faces of the front row, isn't it?" I consider being a little embarrassed as I'm replying, "yeah, it pretty much is," until I remember that this band adores their fanbase -- as though I wasn't about to be reminded first-hand of that fact. he turns a few pages (to celticblade's comic) and says, "wow, this must have taken you quite a while." Olga and I glance at each other; I say, "yeah, we've been working on it for, I guess, 3.5 months now," and she adds, "yeah, since New Year's." Alex pauses for a moment, then goes, "it's really quite impressive."
he flips further through (deathstar, swoonstar, vijin, he hit yours, if memory serves), and his comments become fewer and fewer as he's increasingly at a loss for words. for several pages, all he can say is, "oh, wow. wow." he hits my pages (I mentioned they were mine, but I think it was too quiet for him to hear), and finally recovers enough to indicate Nick's pants and quip, "well, we haven't seen those trousers in quite a while, have we? I wonder what's become of them?" I giggle nervously and say something generic, so as not to belie my desire to shag what's under those pants, as though the whole band doesn't already know.
when he finishes thumbing through it, he thanks us repeatedly, saying "that's very touching." Olga asks if we can get a picture with him, and of course he's happy to oblige. afterwards, he continues the praise (I'm forgetting the whole range of adjectives, but it was a broad and highly esteemed array :)), then asks if they can use some of the content on the website. we gape at him for a moment, then tell him, "yes, definitely, that would be amazing." he says that they'll all take turns keeping custody of the book, since it's for all of them (he's a quick one, that Alex!) and asks if it's weird to be parting with it. I say that "yes, I've kinda gotten used to having it in my apartment, but I'm thrilled to see it delivered," something to that effect. we're all quiet again, and he says to the rest of the crowd, "well, that'll be tough to top, won't it?" and finally goes back to taking pictures.
by this time, Olga, Tara, and I are on the verge of tears, because... well, I can't speak for them, but I certainly didn't expect such a sincere, heartfelt reaction. I knew he'd be polite, because that's what one does when they receive a gift, especially something that clearly took a lot of time, thought, and dedication on the part of a lot of people. I didn't even realize it was possible for Alex Kapranos to be at a loss for words, but here we've accomplished it. it's a perfect example of what sets Franz apart from so many other bands out there today. they've Made It, clearly, but they still take the time to acknowledge their fans, to really listen to us. they know that without us, they'd be nowhere, and when the fandom pulls together to do something incredible, they're flattered beyond belief.
(in the interest of thoroughness, Olga's post on the presentation is here, and Tara's (who was our photo/videographer) is here. the LJ album, containing pictures of Alex looking at the scrapbook, and of its contents, is here. I'm crediting each scrapbook entry, so lemme know if you know who made a certain contribution. also, a video of Alex as he reached the end of the scrapbook. a NY Orgster was waiting too, and his quickie writeup of the handoff is here. I hadn't realized they'd worked on a birthday book for Alex, too. heh.)
so anyway. :) Alex kept on chatting with the couple dozen fans until Eleanor, who'd been waiting to the side for easily fifteen minutes, called out to him. they left, and then we left (and for the record, yes, I felt bad abandoning Andy).
Serge and I dropped Olga off at her train, and then we headed downtown, recapping the show and the events at the stage door. he'd only seen Franz twice before -- the Virgin in-store in '04 and in Ithaca -- and this show was of an entirely different caliber than anything he'd seen before. we walked down to Tower to get him a wristband for the Myspace show, getting there just as they closed, then got dinner in Chelsea and looked at his pictures in Union Square. I finally got home after 2am, made my phonepost to spread the good news, and went to bed.
1) the "secret show", of which I'd first learned in DC when seesindreams texted me about it, was to be held at Hammerstein Friday afternoon. in order to go, we had to jump through some hoops on Myspace and bring the resulting printed page to the NYU Tower Records, where we'd receive a wristband.
2) 5hiddenthoughts' parents were so pissed about the excursion to Boston that she'd been forbidden from going to the rest of the shows. this is something I couldn't even conceive of.
Diana, corvidqueen, and I showered and dressed, then headed to Nancy's to pick up their tickets for that night, along with a charcoal drawing she'd done for Bob. we were nearly in tears. we caught a 1pm train from White Plains into Grand Central, when it occurred to me that I still hadn't figured out the note that would accompany my photos in the scrapbook. seeing as we were planning to present it after that night's show, I decided to hunker down and write it. the resulting few sentences were sappier than I'd've liked, but considering the distance I'd travelled in the previous days for this band, and the amount of sleep I hadn't gotten, I decided it was just fine.
the three of us bustled down to Tower to get our wristbands; then I put Diana and Christina on the train to Hammo while I ran home to collect up scrapbook stuffs and change into my show clothes. I finally got to the venue just after 3, to find the following already settled into the front of the line (secured by vijin and misspotter at 11am): nevoreiel, Diana, Liburd, lightstarangel, ursamajr, thechairguy, take_the_fifth, im_not_indie, whitestrpsrock, and several people I never met properly. bachelorettia, jubileebanker, aprilrhye, good_conduct, and prongsphile were a bit further back, and devil_eye swept in at the last moment to make use of the spare ticket I'd bought.
Olga and I settled into to the final assembly of the scrapbook -- adding the last half-dozen entries, putting together the preface page (Shar donated her pretty, non-spastic handwriting for the explanatory blurb :)), photographing the whole thing for posterity. security kept making us move further and further back, since that's what security does, and I felt like a huge asshole for not being able to take up less space.
eventually 6pm rolled around. I bundled my camera in my sweater, then in the towel I'd brought to lay under the scrapbook. I knew it was pretty half-assed as camera concealment went, but I've always had an easy time at Hammerstein. imagine, then, my surprise when:
1) Security Cunt finds my camera,
2) says I can't bring it in (apparently the "Franz allow fans to take pictures" rule, as quoted later to swoonstar and teeneen, doesn't apply if the fan might be capable of taking nice sharp pictures), and
3) tells that Hammerstein has nowhere to check bags or "illegal" objects, and that I'll have to dispose of it on my own.
aside from being ludicrously untrue (Hammo always runs a bag check, even if it's disorganized and their fees constitute highway robbery), this statement is just omgwtfbbq abSURD in a city where residents don't own cars and even people from the 'burbs take mass transit to shows. this is not as simple as going to put it in the car. thinking that maybe Cuntie can be reasoned with, I offered to leave my battery or "memory card" outside, but no, the only way I can enter is to leave my $500 camera on the sidewalk for four hours. eventually I realized I was holding up others in our group and moved away. Cuntie yells at me a bit more, I yell back that I'm leaving to put it somewhere safe, and I book it to the subway.
Hammo is closer to my office (at 45th and 6th) than my apartment, so I swallowed my pride and desperation and head uptown on the 1. beet red, sweaty, and shaking with fury, I passed a friend from HR (of all departments) on the street and then, since it was 6.15 and the biweekly group meeting was letting out, I run into half of my 30-person department, including my boss and his boss, in the ~90 seconds I'm on the floor. the public transit gods smiled on me once again and I hopped right on a downtown train. I was inside Hammerstein for good by 6.30, by which time our entire posse had learned of my plight and hogged up some extra space in the middle. Olga and I passed our wait by chatting with a nice Death Cabber who'd been right behind us in line.
the Cribs went on promptly at 7.30. generally I prefer to get busted on the camera offense earlier rather than later, because it leaves me more time to get past my irritation and enjoy the show without the use of my viewfinder. even with the incredible hassle of my little field trip, this held true, and I bounced around happily with Diana, Lisa, and Sarah. it's my fifth time seeing the Cribs play the same exact set, and all of a sudden I noticed -- Gary plays barefoot?! where have I been? the guys seemed much more comfortable playing a room where the silly girls in the front weren't the only ones enjoying themselves. Ryan lights up, Ross climbs all over his kit, and I decide to keep on not minding that the tricks are the same every time.
people kept pushing into the left-side front row, so by the time Franz hit the stage, we'd shifted a good six feet to the right. I'd originally wanted to be Nickside for both Hammo shows; standing by Alex results in nice pictures of the whole band, yeah, but Nick is my boy, and I hadn't properly shown my allegiance. not like I had anything to worry about -- he spotted me by the end of "This Boy" and gave the usual half-smile/nod. the rest of the guys followed suit soon thereafter.
a few songs in, I caught Bob re-examining the front row, looking from me to Diana to Liburd and back with a slightly bewildered expression. I realized he was looking for Nancy, which I pointed out to Diana, which in turn made us wail a little. Nick did the same later on. :'(
the night's requisite Lauren/Nick OTP Moment™ came during "Jacqueline," when he caught my eye during the chorus of "Jacqueline." yes, Nicky, it is better on holiday, although strictly speaking I was on paid vacation. ;) plenty of eyesex through the rest of the set, too.
Alex was... well, he'd been getting laid through the entire northeast leg of the tour, but he was extra sexed-up. he collapsed to the floor three times, once dragging himself along the stage, another time bucking his hips into his guitar in a very convincing, potentially painful gesture. (maybe standing center isn't so bad, after all. ;))
it was probably the best I'd seen Franz in New York, I'm realizing now in retrospect. they were thrilled to be back, and Alex said so. he said "Eleanor" was "a song about being in love, and being in love with New York City" (which is the same thing macphista said back when the album leaked ♥). same setlist as Ithaca/DC, and I couldn't have cared less whether the Death Cab kiddies were into it or not, because I was sandwiched between people who were simply unable to stop moving.
immediately after the set, we booked it outside, at least as quickly as we could through the press of DCFCers. I carried my (heavy!) bag and scrapbook over my head for lack of space in a less aerobic position. once we'd collected everyone outside (except for Nicole, who was waiting for an Olga who never made it to the bathroom, and whose number I'd mistyped in my phone), we proceeded around to the stage door on 35th St -- thanks to the Modest Mouse incident, I'm decently familiar with Hammerstein's internal layout :-p -- and set up camp twenty feet from the door.
about half an hour had passed when someone announced that Nick had just left, shielding his face and ducking off between a couple trucks. the words "Nicholas McCarthy, get your voluptuous ass back here!" were already in my throat when I decided to keep on not being crazy and let the boy be. (fucker.) venue security, knowing how dangerous fangirls can be, set up barricades and forced us behind them. I established myself all the way at the end, figuring that I didn't want to take up other people's time when Alex came out. Bob was next to emerge, and he was friendly to the max (how un-DC!). by this time it had become clear to me that I'd be in charge of scrapbook presentation in Nancy's absence, so I focused on figuring out wtf I was gonna say (and just how I'd manage to keep my shit together at all, since I'd never managed composure before with any member of the band) instead of scoring pictures and cute anecdotes. Paul followed, Esther in tow, and he's still too cool for me to talk to. I decided to take one last prepatory glance through the scrapbook, and I was just forging Nicole's signature on the first page when the door opened again and Mr Kapranos emerged.
Alex decides to do autographs first, so down the line he goes, signing albums, t-shirts, bags, you name it. finally he gets to Olga and me, sharpie in hand, and goes to sign the scrapbook. I'm like, "don't sign that, it's for you." he looks at me a bit quizzically and takes the album. looking at the cover, he asks, "oh, is this all pictures of New York?" as he's opening it, I explain that no, "it's a rather elaborate token of our appreciation, from all the New York fans. Nancy was originally gonna be the one to give it to you, but her parents weren't fond of our trip to Boston last night."
Alex takes one glance at the first page and remarks, "oh, it's the faces of the front row, isn't it?" I consider being a little embarrassed as I'm replying, "yeah, it pretty much is," until I remember that this band adores their fanbase -- as though I wasn't about to be reminded first-hand of that fact. he turns a few pages (to celticblade's comic) and says, "wow, this must have taken you quite a while." Olga and I glance at each other; I say, "yeah, we've been working on it for, I guess, 3.5 months now," and she adds, "yeah, since New Year's." Alex pauses for a moment, then goes, "it's really quite impressive."
he flips further through (deathstar, swoonstar, vijin, he hit yours, if memory serves), and his comments become fewer and fewer as he's increasingly at a loss for words. for several pages, all he can say is, "oh, wow. wow." he hits my pages (I mentioned they were mine, but I think it was too quiet for him to hear), and finally recovers enough to indicate Nick's pants and quip, "well, we haven't seen those trousers in quite a while, have we? I wonder what's become of them?" I giggle nervously and say something generic, so as not to belie my desire to shag what's under those pants, as though the whole band doesn't already know.
when he finishes thumbing through it, he thanks us repeatedly, saying "that's very touching." Olga asks if we can get a picture with him, and of course he's happy to oblige. afterwards, he continues the praise (I'm forgetting the whole range of adjectives, but it was a broad and highly esteemed array :)), then asks if they can use some of the content on the website. we gape at him for a moment, then tell him, "yes, definitely, that would be amazing." he says that they'll all take turns keeping custody of the book, since it's for all of them (he's a quick one, that Alex!) and asks if it's weird to be parting with it. I say that "yes, I've kinda gotten used to having it in my apartment, but I'm thrilled to see it delivered," something to that effect. we're all quiet again, and he says to the rest of the crowd, "well, that'll be tough to top, won't it?" and finally goes back to taking pictures.
by this time, Olga, Tara, and I are on the verge of tears, because... well, I can't speak for them, but I certainly didn't expect such a sincere, heartfelt reaction. I knew he'd be polite, because that's what one does when they receive a gift, especially something that clearly took a lot of time, thought, and dedication on the part of a lot of people. I didn't even realize it was possible for Alex Kapranos to be at a loss for words, but here we've accomplished it. it's a perfect example of what sets Franz apart from so many other bands out there today. they've Made It, clearly, but they still take the time to acknowledge their fans, to really listen to us. they know that without us, they'd be nowhere, and when the fandom pulls together to do something incredible, they're flattered beyond belief.
(in the interest of thoroughness, Olga's post on the presentation is here, and Tara's (who was our photo/videographer) is here. the LJ album, containing pictures of Alex looking at the scrapbook, and of its contents, is here. I'm crediting each scrapbook entry, so lemme know if you know who made a certain contribution. also, a video of Alex as he reached the end of the scrapbook. a NY Orgster was waiting too, and his quickie writeup of the handoff is here. I hadn't realized they'd worked on a birthday book for Alex, too. heh.)
so anyway. :) Alex kept on chatting with the couple dozen fans until Eleanor, who'd been waiting to the side for easily fifteen minutes, called out to him. they left, and then we left (and for the record, yes, I felt bad abandoning Andy).
Serge and I dropped Olga off at her train, and then we headed downtown, recapping the show and the events at the stage door. he'd only seen Franz twice before -- the Virgin in-store in '04 and in Ithaca -- and this show was of an entirely different caliber than anything he'd seen before. we walked down to Tower to get him a wristband for the Myspace show, getting there just as they closed, then got dinner in Chelsea and looked at his pictures in Union Square. I finally got home after 2am, made my phonepost to spread the good news, and went to bed.