A Night With Sebadoh

How One Bad Apple Ruins The Barrel

Sunday night Tina and I broke our year-long music fast when we sauntered off to see Sebadoh at LaLuna, a local punk rock club. Our last outing had been an abortive attempt to see Michelle Shocked at aforementioned club in August. Unfortunately, my refusal to fill Ticketmaster's pockets with my money resulted in a failed attempt to buy tickets the night of the show. This time we were nearly assured of success since they were not selling tickets in advance and Sebadoh (who?) is still relatively unknown.

Arriving at 8:15 for the 9:00 show, we found many people already queued for the nights festivities. A cursory examination showed the group demographic to be the angst-ridden, black-wearing, hair-dying teenager. We whiled away our time in line by listening to the kids in front of us talk about the merits of the various comedy troupe shows currently on television. The Vacant Lot received mixed reviews, The State was recognized for the flop that it is and The Kids in the Hall was generally acknowledged as the cream of the crop.

Eventually the ticket window opened and the line started moving. When we got to the admission window, I ponied up the $12 for the two of us (that's six bucks a head) and asked about buying advance tickets without Ticketmaster. "We're just not set up for that," said the nice lady in the ticket booth. After finding out the date of the upcoming Hole concert, which we had previously planned to attend, we moved on into the bowels of the joint.

LaLuna, or at least the building that it resides in, was originally a church. Three years ago, I saw Two Nice Girls in the same building when it was called Pine Street Theatre and under different management. The stage and dance floor are located in what was, presumably, the main worship area. Just off the dance floor, there is a beer garden which is "fenced" off and requires valid ID to enter. The rest of building is built somewhat like a maze and includes a pool room, a soda bar (that was not open), a coffee room, restrooms, backstage, etc. Later we would find out that there is also excellent balcony seating. Since my last visit, they had changed things considerably. The old decor consisted of stained glass and crystal things hanging from the ceiling. The new decor is strictly punk with lots of black. The steeple ceiling had been boarded over with black plywood and the walls were all painted black. The stage was still the same, however, and the bar was still the same.

Seeing several available cocktail tables at the edge of the beer garden, we quickly sashayed over, showed ID, nabbed some beers (na, of course) and grabbed one of these tables. It looked like we had one of the best spots in the place. Over the next hour and a half, more and more people poured into the place. The kids, who were not allowed in the beer garden, were forced to sit on the dance floor. The seats around us filled as we waited for the bands to start. A bouncer came around every once in a while to clear away the minors hanging out too close to the beer garden.

At 9:40, someone got up on stage to announce that the bands were running a little late and that we should all introduce ourselves to a stranger. I did so and asked the time (OK, I just asked the time). About a half hour later, 30.06 (pronounced thirty-ought-six) came on and played a very loud and essentially music-less set of punk rock. I'm sure the moshers enjoyed it, but Tina and I merely looked at each other and laughed.

Next up, some guy (sorry, forgot the name) came on and began reciting poetry, singing odd lyrics and playing strange and generally incompetent guitar licks. He was accompanied by a drummer, who I think he stole from 30.06 for the evening. He only did about four songs, which everyone was very thankful for.

After a short time for setup, during which we decided to abandon our seats and risk our lives out on the dance floor, Sebadoh came out. Sebadoh is a three-piece: drums, bass, guitar. During their soundcheck, there were many complaints about various technical problems. This was to be a recuring theme throughout the night. The lead guitar and band leader, Lou Barstow, started out with an electric 12-string, which I found to be odd for a punk band. They did about three very melodic rockers with a acoustic feel to them (although they were electric) and told us about how they had to drive twelve hours to get here and got a $500 speeding ticket (93 mph) on the way. This was also a recurring theme. During the second song, some joker threw a somewhat full beer bottle up on stage where it landed about six feet behind the guitar player. I don't think anyone in the band except the bass player noticed, who got an annoyed look on his face before continuing to play.

After the guitar player switched to a six and towards the end of the fourth song, another beer bottle sailed towards the stage. This time it was a little bit fuller and hit the light rigging above the stage. Upon impact it exploded beer and, presumably, glass all over the stage. The band stopped abruptly, said some nasty things and then left the stage. Shortly after there were seperate appearances by the drummer (who had evidently been cut) and the cameraman who had been taping with a camcorder. Both wanted to know who had thrown the bottle. They got their answer shortly when some people about eight feet off to our right claimed that "the guy in the hat" had done it. Upon identification of the culprit, at least three people immediatly began shoving the guy around. Seeing that the crowd was definitely not on his side, he began to make his escape. Since I was between him and the door, he slinked towards me. Just about this time, a very large guy with wicked curly hair gave him a huge shove right into me! Since I was still unsure of his guilt or innocence (not having actually seen him throw the bottle), I did nothing. He responded by quickening his pace towards the exit, where I assume he ended up since I did not see him again.

By this time, Tina was more than a little anxious about the situation and asked if maybe we should leave. Experience no small adrenaline rush myself, I had also considered that alternative. However, my fascination with mob rule got the better of me and I said that we should wait and see what happens, which is what we did.

What happened was that Sebadoh did indeed return to stage. This time the drummer picked up the bass and the bass player manned the skins. They played a cool song about there being tension in the air and then the cameraman grabbed the mike and they launched into a hard-core speed metal song filled with lots of screaming and distortion. After that, the rhythm section returned to their normal spots and they finished out the set with more punk rock, although not as heavy as the song the camera guy sang on. Throughout this portion of the show, they were extremely irate and became fond of telling us the 12 hour drive/speeding ticket story. The complaints about technical problems increased and eventually they just left the stage. A few minutes later the guitar player returned to the stage to switch off his amp, which was feeding back, and informed us that there would be "no encores tonight." We left.

On the way home we reflected upon the evenings events and stopped at Taco Bell for a late night snack. Aside from the expected ear "numbness," I noticed that my jaw hurt when I chewed and Tina informed me that the body has a natural teeth-clenching reaction to loud noises. Two days later I'm reminding myself to bring earplugs to see Hole because I can't complete a yawn.

Tina decided that she felt sorry for the bottle-lobbing fellow in the hat because he was ganged-up on by the crowd. I regret not grabbing him and escorting him to the stage (he was just a little guy).

We may get a chance to see it all again on November 16 when we go to see Courtney Love and Hole!