Dead Door, Posthumous Pardon

Today, I read that outgoing Florida governor Charlie Crist has decided to push for a pardon for...wait...Jim Morrison (who died in 1971) for something that happened in...wait...1969. And that something was lewd and lascivious behavior that took place at a performance, rather than some benificient but misunderstood act for which he had been long castigated.

It's events such as this, when politicians stray from things political, that get me going. Now, if Charlie Crist was instead working to ensure that ballot machines in Florida functioned properly, and that the election commissions and poll workers were fully functioning and well trained, now that would be a real news story.

Click here for a link to the NY Times story.

There goes the reunion

Sad news this morning from the rock world--Pete Quaife of the Kinks (a fellow bassist, no less!) has left this village green and moved on to the big sky. Read the Time obit here; very interesting anecdote about a fistfight breaking out among the bandmembers in a limousine after Quaife whistled a Beatles melody!

Closing Time for Bar 411

If you've read this blog before, you'll know that I often note the passing of rockers as they happen. (Pretty much that's all I do with this blog!) So it was only after I began posting this message this afternoon that I realized that this, too, is an obituary of sorts.

I was adding gigs to the various calendars I use on the website, and today, the following message greeted me as I went to add things to Bar411.

After much thought, we've decided to shut down bar411.com.

We've had fun doing our small part promoting the music scene... We've gotten to see great bands play at great venues. We've met many, many people who love seeing live music as much as we do. It's been an awesome 8 years!

Sadly, we no longer have the time we feel is necessary to make this site as good as it should be.

If you'd like to drop us a line to thank us or yell at us or anything else, you can still use the bar411@bar411.com email address or the Bar411 Facebook page.

Thanks for all the memories and keep supporting your local bands!

- Mark, Brian and the rest of the Bar411 team

I am sorry to see this go--I don't know how many of you may have used this to keep track of us, or to have stumbled on us for the first time through this (I can think of at least one person), but every bit of publicity does help.

We're like a lot of bands out there--scuffling for shows, trying to make the shows we do get memorable and of high quality, and attempting to keep things fresh and fun in the face of our everyday lives and occupations. If you know of other places where we might get some helpful publicity and web presence, please let us know. And I hope we can see you at a show sometime soon. We've got one in April, then a bunch in May. As the Bar 411 team says, keep supporting your local bands!

The Fiddler of Reeling and Rocking

In Thomas Hardy's short story "The Fiddler of the Reels," he tells of the power of an iterant fiddler, Mop Ollamoor, to dramatically affect the women and children who hear his playing. "He could make any child in the parish, who was at all sensitive to music, burst into tears in a few minutes by simply fiddling one of the old dance-tunes he almost entirely affected," writes Hardy; for "young women of fragile and responsive organization," he continued, there is seduction in his "fantastical" bowing.

I've always been struck by that story's description of how powerfully music can affect a listener. In this case, it does not end well. (With Hardy, it never does.) Car'line Aspent, the young woman transfixed by Ollamoor's playing, ultimately dances herself into collapse and convulsions as she is unable to resist the relentless sequence of tunes.

And part of the attraction of the fiddler's music is no doubt that "all were devil's tunes in his repertory;" that idea had as much currency in 1893 when the story was written as in the 1950s, when rock and roll was launched and Elvis Presley's shaking hips were not shown on television.

Last night, when playing at a local restaurant, I felt a little like Mop Ollamoor. We played to a rather large (for us) crowd, and like the inn where Car'line falls under the spell of the devil's music, this room was also hot, sweaty, and filled with people ready for fun. So as the music thumped out, and the beat took hold of hips and feet, and I took in the energy gave back the command that since there was no dance floor, it was ok to dance on tables. And they did! Here, there, across the room people got up on their chairs and tables and let the music take them. Others, more vertiginous, stayed on the floor but redoubled their efforts. I was watching as it took place, feeling a bit like a spectator, but then also realizing that it was the band, and a command that made this all happen.

Remarkable. When things like this happen, I start to think that music is something larger than me that runs through the universe, and I just happen to be the person transmitting that message along. Remarkable.