So, just woke up, recuperating from whatever it was that unfolded at Pianos in NY last night. If you've never been to Pianos, then you're probably not a musician looking for any '
ol place
that'll book your band, or you're not a NYU student looking to get jarringly harassed by night's end. We cruised into town, Manhattan seemingly deserted for a Friday night.
Must've had something to do with the 11 degree wind-chill.
Pianos is apparently an old Piano tuner-upper business that's been converted into a trendy bar up front, and a show space in the back. Getting through the crowd to the back was a challenge in itself, tapping many an ass with our clunky guitar cases. The backroom, however, wasn't so bad. It was fairly open, unlike Lit Lounge, and a little more comfortable to stand around in, unlike Lit Lounge.
So we got there at 10, and had to hang out to play at 1 am.
Uggghh. So plenty of beer was consumed, time wasted, bathroom breaks taken. We watched The
Dardys, who were a pretty cool NY band, play first. I liked these guys a pretty good deal. Well-written songs, good sound. Two others played after them, and both band's had synchronized dance moves and way too much crowd participation. At 12am, sorority gals and frat dudes with a lot of watermelon vodka in their stomachs eat that shit up.
Finally, we hit the stage at 1 o'clock. First song, the
soundguy neglected to turn up the bass in the mix, so K. was basically hitting strings for naught. Finally, he did, but we were all out of tune anyway, with a broken string thrown in to boot. It's funny when you open with a 55 second song, and by its end half the people have left the room. The rest of the set was OK, mostly being heckled by drunks and recreational coke users screaming, "Knock my socks off" and "More bass, more cowbell." Right. I actually love Manhattan, but I think I'd be content staying away from their bars for quite sometime.
After the show, the band plus our friends, Shannon and Jon Z., headed into the "famous"
Katz's Deli. If you've never been there, don't ever fucking go to this piece of shit place. It's where Meg Ryan had her fake orgasm in "When Harry Met Sally," and believe me, all the signs in the place let you fucking know it. If you're looking for a place that tries to recreate the feel and paranoia of a concentration camp, then walk into
Katz's. When you enter, two security guards hand you a ticket so you can order. Be careful not to lose it, for if you do there's a $50 penalty!!!! We didn't see that sign and almost everyone misplaced their
ticket. We spent five minutes searching coat pockets as the guards harassed us all to keep going to different lines. I spent $9.95 on a salt-less, tasteless chicken salad sandwich. And a fucking $3.5o diet Pepsi! I finally went to pay, where I was yelled at again that the cash register up front didn't take credit. I was ordered to walk to the back where a meat-cutter gave me a look like I asked him to have sex with me when I handed him my card. Then, I watched some poor sap plea with a guard that he couldn't find his ticket (I believed him to be telling the truth cause he seemed to have pure fear in his eyes). He was escorted to the front of the store where he was interrogated. If you wanna come here to see pictures of Mike Meyers and Rudy
Gulliani on the wall, you've come to the right tourist trap. If not, go buy two meals in a million different other places. for what I paid for shit.
Finally, we left the city. In the words of James Murphy, "New York I love you. But you're bringing me dow
n."
Also, this poignant message is right near the Holland Tunnel. Think about it.