Barbikat60′s Weblog

Metropolis Apocalypse at Supreme Trading, Williamsburg, NY 10-24-08

Why do I torture myself? a scathing review of last night’s Metropolis Apocalypse punk show

It started off quietly enough.  I arrived in Williamsburg early and decided to walk around the area to find a suitable place to eat.  I invited Seth and Hilda to come with me.

My therapist was against me going to this show.  Knowing my penchant for certain types of men, she tried to reason with about the folly of my ways but headstrong and stupid as I am, I went anyway.

Of course Hilda and Seth was late and when Seth did call, he said that Cashman told him that Hammerbrain was already on the stage.  Freaking out, I rushed over to Supreme Trading.   On my way over there, I passed a crowd of people at a church at North Seventh and I knew it was an AA meeting.   I asked a young woman and yes, indeed it was a meeting and that it would be starting in 15 minutes.   I felt calmer after than.  I felt that if I got freaked out for some reason, I can always run over to catch what’s left of the meeting.

I get to Supreme Trading and of course,  Hammerbrain was NOT on.  I hung out to see what old timers were about.   Some nasty crusty punk kids managed to get in with their dogs.  Damn, they smelled, it was really gross.

Hammerbrain was an old school band from the eighties.  I was friends with Al and reasonably friendly with Ned.  For some reason, I never was friendly to Ned’s younger brother but I must say that he aged fucking nice and so did Ned.  They are both fucking hot!  Some of the rest of us didn’t fare so good.  We had the bloated calf appearance that is only gained by years of alcohol abuse.  All I have to say in my defense is that I’m fucking 48 and still going strong.  Thats more than what I expected out of my life.

Hammerbrain was great, it was good to sing the old songs or at least hear them.  It made me feel young again.  What did NOT make me feel  young was the goddamn crusty punks who made a goddamn mosh pit.   Of Course they should have made a pit, it’s a fucking punk show.   Yet all of us old timers with weary bones were a bit disgruntled but tried not to show it.

It was interesting to note the changing of the bands and their audiences.  The bands were newer and newer as time went on and their followings  were also younger so by the the time the main attraction came on, the crowd was properly suited for the rowdy hijinks that ensued.

I don’t want to get ahead of myself here.

After Hammerbrain played, the lovely Hilda showed up and we went around to see what old timers were there.  Seth introduced me to Bill Cashman and I was my usual obnoxious self asking him about the bed bugs at C-Squat and saying other snippy things.   Mr. Cashman was not at all entertained by my joking and dissed me immediately to drool over Hilda.  I was offended. hmmmph and all of that   I got over it though and Seth, Hilda and I saundered off to dinner at Oasis, a fine Middle Eastern restaurant.

Back at Supreme Trading, I wandered off from Seth and Hilda and found John Penley schmoozing a hot Brazilian young woman.  Penley is the man, that’s all that I can say.
I looked into the art space and I saw Stza hanging out talking with some hot chick.  I whipped my dvd out and went in to make my acquaintance and give him the dvd.  He was actually really nice.  I mean, I read all this shit about him and local people said some particularly unkind remarks about him but I found him quite charming.  We chit chatted about personal hygiene and then I went back to find Hilda and Seth.
Back in the stage area,  I found empty seats on the aluminium bleachers.  I made sure that I got to the top section because I wanted no part of anybody’s stinky, sweaty body hurling into me because they were “dancing”.   I happily checked out the crowd.  There were absolutely no real outstanding hoties there.  At least not guys.  There were some doable sex minxes in the mix.   I love punk rock sluts.  Especially the healthy ones with hardly any clothes on.  The really skinny ones just remind me of coked out skanks.

Finally, the moment everybody was waiting for….STAR FUCKING HIPSTERS!

At least thats what everybody though but due to equipment malfunctions on Sturg’s amp, there was a long, long delay.

and then they played….and it was good.

However,  Sturg was ummm, fucked up!!!  What the hell happened in two fucking hours?  He was totally fine when I left him.

Still, He was awesome, the band was awesome.  Oh my gawd, the bassist and the other guitarist.  They absolutely ruled!!!  I was rocked.!!!

I really could’ve cried at one point, it was so good and so emotionally charged and everybody was into it.

and though it all, you just felt so alive and the music torched through and you felt….understood because the music said it all for you.

and you were safe, you could do anything because there was always somebody there to carry you

However,   this is reality and this is alcohol we’re talking about and we can’t leave out the truth.
I have no idea what went through Jimi Hendrix’s mind when he set his guitar on fire at Monterey Music Festival.  I have no idea why Pete Townshend smashed his guitar back in the day.   All I know is that when Sturg swung that guitar like a real axe and I felt that swoosh of air above my head which might have led to real trouble for me if I was taller, I knew things were gettng out of hand.

Just as quickly as it started, it ended and the band played on until the end.

It was an amazing night.  I just hope we don’t blow our wad and die in a blaze of glory because there’s a lot to be said for growing old and still kicking ass.

At the very end, they turned the lights on to stop the music but the band played on until the management got testy and finally over.   I ran to piss and the bathrooms were scandalous.  What did I expect?  Ha!

I went back into the stage area to put my warm things on and I look on the ground and saw rigs everywhere.  That really freaked me out.  I almost picked one up but my better judgment took over.  It kind of brought everything in full circle for me.    Twenty years ago today, I was a junkie living that supposed punk rock dream in a junkie squat on the Lower East Side and it was all about the music and getting high.   Just like Arthur Rimbaud, I had to let go of those angst ridden days and move on.   Thinking about it like that puts it all in perspective for me.  I am so glad that I can feel music like I always did.  I’m also glad that I find so much more out of life than living in a drugged out day dream.

Barbara R. Lee

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