 STUDIOS | |
|  | Audio Recording
2"-16 track with a real echo chamber sunk into the basement. The first UBU single was done there.
(Paul Marotta)
| | |
| | Beat Farm, Willoughby
The Beat Farm in Willoughby was run by Alan McGinty (the former drummer of the Wild Giraffes) and Chris Burgess (of Prison Shake fame). It was an old farm house that they turned into a studio. Alan and Chris also ran Herb Jackson Records, so most of the Herb Jackson releases were recorded there; The Mice, New Salem Witch Hunters, The Attitude, Venus Envy. Other bands that recorded there included the 2 Bobs, Starvation Army, the Plague, God Squad, Lurid and the Pagans. The studio moved into the downtown Willoughby area for a short spell after the farmhouse was knocked down for a new development. That location was the Beat Farms last, eventually closing as Chris and Alan moved on to different careers.
(Jon Wyville)
| | |
| | Cleveland Recording, Downtown on Euclid
(2"-16 track...they even had a quad console!) Downtown on Euclid, later moved to Painesville changed their name to Suma Recording. Styrenes mixed the second single downtown in 1977 and recorded and mixed our third single at Suma in 1978.
(Paul Marotta)
| | |
| | Earthman Studio
1/4" four-track Euclid and E. 69. Mirrors recorded there in 1974.
(Paul Marotta)
| | |
| | Music Connection Recording
1/2" eight-track in Strongsville on Pearl Rd. Styrenes recorded a few songs there.
(Paul Marotta)
| | |
| | Owl Studios, Columbus, OH
1"-8 track and 2"- 16 track. Mirrors recorded there in 1975. Styrenes first two singles were recorded there in 1975 and '76.
(Paul Marotta)
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| | Peppermint Productions, Painseville
Peppermint Productions opened in 1971 in Youngstown, Ohio with a Scully 1" 12 track format, the same format as Zappa's studio in New York. Went to 2" 16 track in 1974, then later to 2" 24 track. All these formats, including 1/2" 4 track, and 1" 8 track are available yet today. Bands recording there in the '70's included Poobah, Left End, Blue Ash, Morely Grey and Brimestone.
(Gary Rhamy, Peppermint)
| | |
| | Peppermint Productions, Painseville
A weird 1" 6- track hybrid!
(Paul Marotta)
| | |
| | Scnieder Recording, E. 9th Street, Cleveland
Six and Change was recorded there.
(Paul Marotta)
| | |
| | Styrene Studios
Styrene Studios, located in an old industrial park at East 36th and Superior, was in operation for just under two years, from early 1978 until the end of 1979. We first set up only to record ourselves, but it was only natural to work with other like-minded people. Besides the Styrenes, The Pagans, Andrew Klimek, Bernie & The Invisibles, Charlotte Pressler, Tulsa Jacks, Doug Morgan, AK47s, The Pineapples, Suburban White Boys, Bill Hagan, and others recorded there.
(Paul Marotta)
| | |
| RECORD SHOPS | |
| | Platterpuss Records (Lakewood)
Originally opened on E. 185th St. by Jim Jones and Alan Snake. On any given day you could find some old rare Cle records and just about anything else under the sun. When John McNea took it over from Jim and Alan he kept the tradition alive. John is always willing to help you peddle your own stuff too! The store has now relocated to Detroit Ave. in Lakewood.
(Scott Stemple)
| | |
| | Record Den
The Record Den in Mentor (now privately owned) has long since moved from it's original location at the now defunct Newberry's at Great Lakes mall. It can now be found almost directly across the street at 7661 Mentor Ave. next to Buddy's Carpet. They still have a vast array of punk, indie hardcore and popular music. Also T-shirts, hats, blank media, vinyl, videotapes and posters as well as used CDs. They're one of the best record stores in Lake county in my opinion.
Just giving you the heads up on the move.
(Andy Knox)
| | |
| | Record Den (Mentor)
Located inside the Newberry's department store at Great Lakes Mall. This place always had a surprisingly great selection of punk, imported and underground records. It was an odd location for such a hip store but always worth the trip to see what you could find.
(Scott Stemple)
| | |
| | Record Den (Mentor)
Located inside the Newberry's department store at Great Lakes Mall. This place always had a surprisingly great selection of punk, imported and underground records. It was an odd location for such a hip store but always worth the trip to see what you could find
(Scott Stemple)
| | |
| | Record Rendezvous on Prospect (Downtown Cleveland)
I used to make weekly pilgrimages down to Rendezvous to pick a couple 7" or an imported album. Back in the '50's Alan Freed worked there. But by the late '70's early '80's Jim Jones, Brian Sands, or Randy Meggit could help you find what you were looking for. Whether it be "Bette Davis Eyes" or "Ha Ha Ha" Always a great selection and even a great atmosphere. I always enjoyed the stroll from Moser's up 4th St. after a few "fish bowls" to thumb through some imported punk records.
(Scott Stemple)
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| | Record Revolution (Parma)
Located at Parmatown Mall. Not quite as up to date as the Coventry store but pretty cool for being in Parma. Lots of used records, mags, buttons and an occasional "punk rock" chick behind the counter. Is it still there? Not Parma! Record Revolution.I think Parma's still there.
(Scott Stemple)
| | |
| | Record Revolution/Stiff Records on Coventry (Cleveland Heights)
Great place to find some new punk records or a cool button or shirt. Stiff Records (in the basement) was a big room of just used albums. It was easy to spend a couple hours looking through everything for that one (or two) hidden gems buried beneath Linda Ronstadt, Zeppelin, and Doobie Brothers records. The walls were covered with graffiti from bands that had stopped in while they were playing in town (why they've painted over it since I'm not sure).
"Your prices are too high! - Dead Boys"
Graffiti above the door as you exited.
(Scott Stemple)
| | |
| | Record Revolution/Stiff Records on Coventry (Cleveland Heights)
In 1973-4 Cynthia Black worked here, and met David Taylor. It was
through that connection David became known to Tim Wright and Scott
Krauss, later leading to David's introduction to Pere Ubu.
Record Revolution was the most progressive store of it's time since its
owner (now dead from cocaine abuse) was a major head. There was almost
nothing this store didn't carry from ethno to jazz to rock to
paraphernalia to tee's; you name it. I remember the day that while
working there I overheard a kid telling his buddy :"Hey, did you know
David Bowie discovered Lou Reed?" Lou Reed had just released
Transformer or Berlin. I knew I was old; I was 21.
(Cynthia Black)
| | |
| | Record Revolution/Stiff Records on Coventry (Cleveland Heights)
Send me an email with any new Venue Submissions.
If there is a venue that has an entry and you have something to add, please do... email your addition here.
Hideos Discodrome (Lakewood/Cle)
The Drome has its own page, naturally.
Record Rendezvous on Prospect (Downtown Cleveland)
I used to make weekly pilgrimages down to Rendezvous to pick a couple 7" or an imported album. Back in the '50's Alan Freed worked there. But by the late '70's early '80's Jim Jones, Brian Sands, or Randy Meggit could help you find what you were looking for. Whether it be "Bette Davis Eyes" or "Ha Ha Ha" Always a great selection and even a great atmosphere. I always enjoyed the stroll from Moser's up 4th St. after a few "fish bowls" to thumb through some imported punk records.
(Scott Stemple)
Record Revolution/Stiff Records on Coventry (Cleveland Heights)
Ah yes record revolution. When the local and regional promotional guys from the labels were in town for the dog, pony and payola show, they knew they could sell hundreds of promos to Record Revolution instead of doing their job. In a market where a lesser known rock band might sell 250-500 units, selling 100 promos could do a lot of damage. But, hey, cash in the pocket for the suit, a good profit margin for the store, fuck the musicians.
(Paul Marotta)
| | |
| | Ultrasound
Just west down US-20 from Record Den in Mentor, Ultrasound records is one of those shops that just seems like it's "been there as long as I can remember." Although it really hasn't, it's fairly new (somewhere around ten years old). Imagine walking into a hallway seemingly wall to wall with CDs, 7"s and 12"s. Now imagine a scary metalhead at the counter wearing a Bolt Thrower t-shirt who hardly acknowledges your presence upon entering. This is Ultrasound Records.
Ultrasound has one of the most obscure and varied collections of metal, punk, hardcore, live videos, posters, stickers, patches, metal and punk out of anyone in the NE Ohio area. Located in a tiny strip mall, the store is just as small as it looks from the outside(and very easy to miss). I make a trip to Ultrasound from time to tim to check on any new vinyl(especially Misfits). Sorry I can't give you the names of any of the guys working there. I'm just too frightened to do anything more than give them my money.
(Andy Knox)
| | |
| LIVE MUSIC SITES | |
| | Agora
1971, Dave E., Brian and I went to see "The Flamin' Groovies" at the Agora. It was my virgin visit to that shithole. The opening act, "Glass Harp" played on endlessly, but they were the band that the extant lumpen proles had come to see. Encore after fucking encore, with the sycophantic sea of the Cle-oids heaping praise upon them after each (gasp) "original."
Ad-fucking-infinitum.
We certainly had no wish to mingle with such base morons, so bid our time in the alley smoking cigarettes. After a trice, The Groovies also appeared. We were star struck. Danny Minh, the Groovie's drummer (who, though I did not wear them, had glasses I lusted after) asked, "How long are these fucks [G. Harp] gonna play?" Then he looked over at me and queried, "What time is it anyway?"
I had just gotten my first watch since the timex I had in Jr. high and wanted to show it off, so rather than just tell him, I walked over and held it up for him. "Nice!" he said. The chronometer's face countenanced an ink drawing of a couple happily engaged in 69 with the word "Aires" written on top. The Groovies doing "Teenage Head" were worth the interminable wait.
(John "the Praying Nihilist" Morton)
| | |
| | Cleveland Underground
Located at the bottom of Columbus Rd. The Cleveland underground never made any money because all the patrons chose to drink their own beer sitting outside the club. You could do that in the eighties! On a hot summer Saturday night I saw 50 0r 60 people sitting outside socializing. What were they talking about? the high price of beer inside, or course. A friend of mine told me she was sitting behind the club, drinking and the police came by, they were looking for some fugitive, asked her if she'd seen anyone, then split. Those were the days, when the Cleveland police had better things to do than give tickets for open container. Some bands played there, the Subhumans I think, but that's not important, it was the atomsphere, it was the six of Busch under the Rapid Tressle, the homeless lady's bus the creamatorium next door.
(Malcom Ryder)
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| | Cleveland Underground
The band and I drove under the massive bridges in Cleveland down below to an area along the river called "The Flats". After winding our way thru the desolate gravel pile landscape we came to an area sparsely populated with working guy bars that had names like Mickey Finns, with the hybrid four leafed shamrock clover signs. Carefully navigating the burdened Econoline dubbed "Sexy" after the Sexy Grandpa bumbersticker applied as some sort of magical anti-cop device, we pull up to the white painted brick building that was a club called "The Underground" just downwind from the crematorium smokestack, an old converted warehouse that was now an unconverted strip club turned to punk rock with an and a padded red naugahide bar that wrapped around narrow thrust stage. We loaded in at dusk on a gray winter evening and about the last thing I clearly remember was the glow from the yellow lighting as it struck the diamond patterned plastic highball filled to the rim with free Jim Beam.
Paul needed strings and almost effortlessly our savior and bartender Jody was on the phone to a nearby guitar store, a nice little place that stayed open until we could get there and buy a 5 dollar pack of strings. We might of had a local guide that time but we probably got lost in the maze of gravel piles, tall chain link fences and huge footings that go up to the bridges many feet above, now lit only by our head lights.
John was worried about something or another, probably the van and Paul was about to get really sick but Dale T. was in finest of forms and him, Al and I were busting up all night about shit and getting deep into the running jokes that follow every tour and even though there were only fifteen people there and Paul puked on stage, they played their hearts out, Dale was absolutely on fire.
Now, I don't remember when we met him, before the show, after the show, was he in the other band that played? I remember Dale tugging on my sleeve and saying "You should meet Dickhead, This is Dickhead." Al and Paul are there and even Paul has a smile on his face, our new friend Dickhead is even more intoxicated than us and has a pink plastic lamenated "Fanzine" that he is trying to get us to purchase, for money, he opens it and in the center were it folds is a life size Rorschach print his penis, of course now I see what has gotten the rabid attention of Dale, Paul and Al,Dickhead says very slurred with a nasal voice with rapid starting and stopping
"My name ith Dickhead,
want to buy my magathine,
that's my dick in the thenter,
I tried to get my wife to do it with her puthy but she wouldn't,
iths only five bucks."
Being the jocular guys that we are, we start askin more questions and talking
to him about his magazine as we take turns falling over laughing about the whole thing, five bucks, shit, that was our per diem, I don't know if we ever managed to talk him out of one for free, I know we tried. This continued on and on and we even got a suprise and he wound up in the van going to where we managed to find a place stay, all the while killing Dale, Paul, Al and I, John however was not at all amused with our new playmate.
We got to the house where we were going to stay but by then I was so liquored up on all the free drinks that I couldn't even get out of the loft. We laughed and laughed about it the whole rest of the tour.
((Jzzz - In 1984 I toured as the soundman with a Minneapolis band called "Otto's Chemical Lounge.))
| | |
| | Clockwork Orange (Payne Ave. across from the old police station)
Mirrors played there regularly during the fall of 1974 and into the winter of 75. Clockwork Eddie, talked us into buying a keg of 3.2 beer each week and giving it away free to encourage traffic. It didn't help. We had to bring our own PA , as was the case at all clubs in those days, and play 4 sets a night. It never occurred to us to ask another band to share the bill. The money from the door, $1.75 a head, would often disappear before it was time to pay us. Sometime in the early '75 the bar changed hands and it became "Loose Lounge". The new owner , Steve, didn't stop us from playing there but he really wanted the place to be a watering hole for Cleveland cops. our second or third show after he took over two off duty cops pulled a gun on us because they thought we were too loud. We stopped playing there after that.
(Paul Marotta)
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| | Coach House (2025 Abbington, University Circle)
The Coach House is a VERY small club operated by members of Cle reggae band I-Tal. The main problem here is the location--next door to several hospitals. Amplified sound creates problems with the authorities. A number of bands played here in '78, including Styrene Money, Chi Pig, Lepers, Pagans, Wild Giraffes, and Bernie & The Invisibles - Both Linear Voltage Reviews were also held here. Several incidents involving art-types from the nearby university have cooled the management's "enthusiasm" for non-wave. No more here, as of 12/78.
(reprinted from Cle 3a - courtesy of Jim Ellis)
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| | Eagle Street Saloon
I think the Jake is pretty much right where this club used to be. Saw Friction there once; After the show Pete Laughner was lyin' on the floor in a pool of beer swill smacking his head against the concrete floor, yelling, "I want to die".
(Paul Marotta)
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| | Fitzpatrick's
This is a small club down the road from the Pirate's Cove that started booking non-wave bands during the summer. X-Blank-X made their debut here. The club is too small to book the major bar bands and so gives alot of young bands gigs. Non-wave groups are booked sporadically. Bands that have played here include Backdoor Men (who opened the place up to non-wave bands), Lepers, Pere Ubu, Human Switchboard" Pagans and Tulsa Jacks. Loose atmosphere.
(Reprinted from Cle 3a - courtesy of Jim Ellis)
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| | Fitzpatrick's
My family had a PD route our entire lives...so when I was a teenager, I got the job of driving my littler siblings through their route. The only good music available early in the a.m. on Sundays (other than horrific church music ) was CWRU's Michigan Mom. WOW! My sibs were freaked, but I loved it. This lead to lies to my folks about where I was going in the evening - "Really, Dad, I'm taking the car to John Carroll's library so I can study!" - when instead I was at Fitzpatricks, dodging the river from the bathroom, and where I met Scruffs so at least I didn't feel totally alone. Months later I got busted when my dad wondered why there was always bird shit all over the car - those damn Flats bridges!
(Carol Spiros)
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| | Fitzpatrick's
The Backdoor Men check out Fitzpatrick's newly painted wall (circa 1978). It was not a noble attempt by John to improve the atmosphere of the area or to attract attention, hell, there were less than half a dozen buildings in that area of the flats that were not boarded up or abandoned. Fitz had a regular customer at the bar paint it as payment for a past tab that John knew he would never see cash for from the guy. This picture captures the Flats as I like to remember them.
The ruins of Cleveland's industrial past in the background of the photo are long gone, now a Hooter's and Dick's Last Resort. Even Fitzpatrick's building is gone, now an empty lot waiting for the next "fad of the moment" bar and restaurant to move in. Sure the place was dirty and the bathrooms rarely worked, but for a few years in the late '70s it was ours for one or two nights a week, to book whatever underground or original bands we wanted, to draw (or not draw!) any type of crowd we wanted, to promote shows however we wanted. Fitz, bless his heart (and liver), never once complained about what we were trying to do for original music in Cleveland using his bar.
(Dave Lach, President, Handsome Productions 1977-1980)
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| | Governor's Chateau (W. 117th Governor)
A very small neighborhood tavern located in the city's ethnic west side. A shot & beer place; sponsors its own softball team, who could always be found hanging around. A more unlikely non-wave venue could not be imagined. Which was what made it a great gig; that and a real good jukebox. Mo, the owner's daughter, promoted shows here semi-regularly all through the summer with The B-52's, Pere Ubu, The Cramps, Chi Pig, Lepers, Bizarros, Pagans, Public Enemy, Wild Giraffes and Styrene Money. The bands set up inside a large semi-circular booth at one end of the bar's small back room. Non-wave fans clustered there with the bands while, in the front room,' it was business-as-usual with the usual neighborhood clientele huddled at the bar, the two TV sets turned up full-blast. Certain tensions developed between the two camps during the World Series telecasts but, for the most part, live and-let-live was the rule. Laissez-faire. That is until the bar was cited for serving to an under-age fan. Non-wave activity was terminated sometime in the fall. Future events unlikely.
(Reprinted from Cle 3a - Courtesy of Jim Ellis)
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| | Jungle - March 1986 to September 1986
Named by Pat Kim (Beatnik Termites, Mice, etc), the Jungle was in the basement of the Hot and Chili Pizza on the corner of Euclid and Mayfield in University Circle. It hosted only 2 (or three) semi national acts -Eugene Chadbourne, Skeleton Crew, and possibly Snakeout (I think that last one might have been cancelled). One or two local acts 6 nights a week, 2 bucks to get in.
Mike Baker was the manager, the place was filled with concrete dust, and over head pipes (some with openable valves) Nearly every local act at the time played there (with the exception of maybe the <a href=http://www.clepunk.com/images/band_images/pinkholes/jungle.jpg>Pink Holes</a>, I still have the fake Pink Holes flyer for the Jungle with babies drinking beer somewhere) and it was closed down abruptly for code violations by some angry neighbors.
After it closed, Home and Garden played one show in the restaurant upstairs, but that was it.
Memorable shows:
The Mice doing a set of covers after too many people started yelling out random song names (in a gadda da vita comes to mind).
The band Gunk bringing lots of bars and sticks for the entire audience to bang together (but always in 4/4 time)
Some private party with a Savoy Brown reunion Numbskull playing under the name "The Norm Skully Trio."
While They were together before and after the jungle's existance, this place kind of made the New Salem Witch Hunters.
It was also almost always unbearably hot and humid and very well attended.
RESPONSE FROM KURT TURD of the Holes
The Pink Holes did indeed play one and only one show at the Jungle, which led immediately to us being banned from that club. Our response was to make up fake flyers saying wee WERE playing there for the next month or so, every weekend. I still remember hanging out in the parking lot watching people come up to the club, where the giant outside the entrance read in big bold letters "THE PINK HOLES ARE NOT PLAYING HERE TONIGHT!" They got pretty pissed at us. It was funny.
(Mark Penacho)
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| | Looking Glass (Euclid, OH)
At one time I think this was part of a chain of local "teen clubs" called "Hullabaloo". They probably hadn't renovated since the late 60s.
Styrenes there a few times under the name George Money Band; with Ubu once, a few times with the Pagans and maybe Wild Giraffes and I can't remember who else. Saw the Nerves there ( they wrote Hangin' on a Telephone Line, which became a minor hit for Blondie) on tour from LA, three guys in a station wagon, changing into their suits in the parking lot. The Pagans claimed they wanted to fight us after one show. Our bass player at the time, Mike Antle, about as effeminate a guy as you could find, said to me, "Yeah Paul, let's kick their asses, even you and I can take 'em!" The Pagans never showed up for the big rumble. Figures.
(Paul Marotta)
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| | Pat's in the Flats
Working man's lunch/shot 'n' a beer joint by day - punk rock bar on an occasional Friday and Saturday night. If you lived in Tremont, you could stumble down Literary Rd. into the Flats on foot and not have to worry about driving home drunk. I was usually too wasted to have many coherent memories of the place. Dog named "Budweiser". Skinny hillbilly "bouncer" in a security guard uniform constantly smacking his nightstick into his palm, hoping someone would screw up. John Walsh too fucked up by 7:30 to even turn his P.A. system on. Watching the West 3rd. St. drag races was more entertaining than the bands some summer nights. Got laid in a backseat by the barbed wire topped fence, that was also more entertaining than whatever band was playing.
(Phlegm)
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| | Pirate's Cove (Old River Rd., Flats)
From 10/76 when Ubu began playing there and through most of '77, the Cove was the only Cle club booking new music. In the beginning, as the pattern usually goes, the Cove was a sleazy dive one step away from bankruptcy. They had nothing to lose--they booked Ubu. That first winter between 30 & 50 fans would show up on good nights and most of them ended up standing on chairs to keep warm (heat rises). The first Ubu/Devo show was flooded out when cold weather burst water pipes in the bathrooms.
As the weather warmed and into the summer of '77, Ubu nights became something like a private party. Everybody knew everyone else. There were the same faces, the same approx. 200 people every Thursday night. Inside was Ubu. Outside, was the heart of the Flats. Fifty yards away, the Cove is located in the ground floor of Rockefeller's first warehouse, is the mouth of the Cuyahoga River. Ore boats pulled up opposite the Cove to unload ballast into huge gravel mounds. The Aeronautical Shot Peening Company, across the road, pushed air- sounds into the night from behind a surrealist architectural facade of alien angles and pastel colors.
Quality control was always a problem at the Cove, though. "Country-boogie" bands on Friday and Saturday nights became the club's bread and butter. A very significant amount of "cultural" tension was ever-present between Cove personnel and the non-wave bands and fans. After Ubu quit their Thursday night gig, worthwhile bookings/billings occurred only sporadically. The Cove still books "new wave" on Thursday nights but guarantees no consistent quality. It continues to be a unpleasant experience.
(Reprinted from Cle 3a - courtesy of Jim Ellis)
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| | Pop Shop
The infamous drunkard junkie, Robert Ritchie, is well remembered for putting on benefits for ....well, his own benefit. This was despite, or perhaps in spite of, his considerable artistic talent. December 16, 1983, he pulled one of these off under the guise of "Cleve-bland Rag-o-zine", a masturbatory "literary" project that had clear flexible rubber coating as its most memorable feature. I think about ten bands played, but the only ones I can remember are the Offbeats and the Pink Holes, and I know Robert Griffin?s band at the time was there.
Jerome Caja had been asked to contribute by being the evening?s go-go dancer, on the side of the stage. A tall order, with which he complied by piling five wigs on top of his head, wearing something really sexy, and flailing around for the night. I contributed to the event by going in disguise as his bodyguard, in case any hard-asses wanted to maim his thin, faggot frame; and so I could enter without giving Robert a thin dime.
Nobody knew just what to make of Jerome. They wanted to be hip, they really did. By three in the morning we were practically begging anyone for a ride, just over the bridge. But all those pussies from Mentor (which is where every punk boy was from by then, there or Shaker) had to get home; I think they were just afraid of getting lost on the West Side ?oooooo. On the bus it was hard to tell who was more afraid, us or the other passengers. I never ran as fast in my entire life, as when I got off that bus.
(Anna van der Meulen)
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| | Pop Shop
The bar beneath the Agora. The Mistake was one of the great names ever for a bar, but when it became apparent that the menu would be serving only punk and new wave after a time, they had the bright idea of renaming it. Even gayer, they held a contest, won by (I believe) Paul Michael from the Adults. Or maybe it was won by Jeff Redding. The tape comp "Fungus on the Foot," put out by Erik Barth and Dave James was named after the Agora management's nickname for the joint after a while. The management made plenty of money though by installing a "shot machine" to make sure no one got more than an ounce, as well as enforcing a "no re-entry" policy. The tip jar on the bar was always good to steal from and I drank heartily on their dime many a night, often garnering a surprised " Hey Thanks" as the bartender heard an unwanted quarter drop in the jar after I had swiped 2 bucks and immediately handed it to him for my measly shot of Windsor. But the bands came. And you had to go! I recall Henry Rollins crawling out on the floor and biting Tom Miller on the ankle at a Black Flag Show. Lux Interior loosing a live bat, as well as his ass. GBH a couple times. Eagerly anticipating the Replacements' performance only to leave cuz they were too drunk to even entertain ME.
(Enk)
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| | Real World Nite Club (11800 Detroit Av, Lakewood)
The Real World Nite Club is located directly above the Drome. More popularly known as the Phantasy Nite Club, it was originally the product of the Last Hurrah of CLE 70's Glitter, and as such, has a certain "nostalgic" charm -- it's very tacky. Pretty much indescribable. Since the club's fall from grace several years ago, it's mostly been used for private parties and a black weekend disco. Johnny Dromette dubs the place the "Real World" for shows he occasionally promotes here. Pere Ubu, The Cramps, Pagans, Styrene Money and a number of groups from Detroit have played here. Attempts at establishing a non-wave disco in the summer failed.
(Reprinted from Cle 3a - courtesy of Jim Ellis)
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| | Real World Theater (11806 Detroit Av, Lakewood)
More popularly known as The Homestead, the Real World Theater is an out-of-business movie house located next door to the Drome and underneath the Real World Nite Club. Three shows, headlined by The B-52's, Pere Ubu and Styrene Money, were promoted here in the fall of '78, along with the Cleveland screening of "Eraserhead." Atmospherics and lack of heat tend to make the WHK Auditorium a more desirable venue. The 'HK is also cheaper.
(Reprinted from Cle 3a - courtesy of Jim Ellis)
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| | Tucky's (W. 9th and St. Clair)
Tucky's was a real hot spot the fall and winter '81/'82. The club was three levels and the upstairs was an old disco complete with a lighted dance floor and mirror ball. It was always interesting to see someone like the Defnics play in such surroundings. Going downstairs there were Christmas lights on the walls and stairs. The bar downstairs had swings instead of stools around the bar and a stage that was most likely built for exotic dancers not Rock-N-Roll bands. It was a long stage that ran across the wall. The groups had to stand in a row to able to fit, often adjusting your head safely in between the pipes hanging from the ceiling. The bathroom walls were decoratively plastered with Playboy and Penthouse centerfolds.
The "second wave" began to mature that fall/winter. Every weekend Tucky's had someone worth seeing. Many bands filtered through Tucky's in it's brief history. Clocks, Easter Monkeys, Defnics, Dark, Offbeats, The Dissidents, Jazz Destroyers, Dr. Bloodmoney, Suspect Device, The Adults, Joey and the Radish Heads all come to mind as I recall swinging and swigging at the downstairs bar. Brian Sands had his Bizarmy show upstairs one night. Mike Hudson had his Cleveland Confidential album benefit downstairs on another.
The Cleveland Confidential show was the night Tucky's met it's demise (at least our type of music wasn't welcome anymore). The Easter Monkeys played last that night and the place was really hopping. Old Man Tucky concerned that it was going to run too late tried to unplug the Monkeys' amps. Chris spit beer on the old man and the crowd proceeded to do the same. The Monkeys leaned their guitars across the amps and let them wail while Mr. Tucky ran away holding his hand over his ears. All good things must come to an end.I guess.
(Scott Stemple)
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| | Viking Saloon
Hey - Cinderella landed the Wednesday night slot, Paul, and never forget
it!
Dragonwyk - yikes - the only other mellotron in the city was owned by
their keyboardist. He'd come to watch me play mine through a Foxx fuzz!
The cool place to sit in the Viking was at the back corner of the bar
(which you could access without crossing in front of the stage). That
way you could come in, watch a band (but be so far back the band
couldn't see you past the lights) and then split before you were caught
eyeing the competition - you'd just hear about so-and so being there
later from a friend or roadie. What a silly bunch of infighting jealous
wankers we could be!
FM DJ "Kid" Leo used to come and see us too. BTW, he got his moniker
"Kid" from me...really.
(Cynthia Black)
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| | Viking Saloon
From the point of view of a band playing out, Dick Korn's Viking Saloon was a small step up from most of the rat-hole bars....Mirrors and Eels pestered Korn enough that he let us play a few times. Of course after one Eels show he claimed that we did damage to his club so he held on to our equipment until we apologized or paid him money, I forget which. Cinderella Backstreet, Rockets, Frankenstein, Tin Huey and all the rest played there, usually on the shittiest nights of the week, Sundays and Tuesdays.
Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays were reserved for the big draws, such groundbreaking music as Dragonwyck, a Moody Blues and Yes cover band; or Charlie Wiener an often funny but always out of tune folkie singer songwriter. Of course the best part of the club was that if you got too rowdy the you might get kicked out by the bouncer there; I think his name was Crocus or something like that. Whatever happened to him?
(Paul Marotta)
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| | WHK Auditorium (5000 Euclid Ave.)
The 'HK was built in the thirties as a radio broadcast theater. It seats approx. 1500. It's old, neglected and crumbling. What once was beautiful is now a "unique atmosphere," perched on the edge of the "inner city." In the late 60's it was the Cleveland Grande for a while. In the mid-70's an early version of Devo played a private party for WMMS, warming' up for Sun Ra. Now it's used occasionally by black concert promoters and, of course, as the site for DISASTO.
(Reprinted from Cle 3a - courtesy of Jim Ellis)
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| | Zephyr Rock & Roll Grill (Broad St., Elyria)
26 miles west of Cleveland, tucked in between country and western bars and biker bars, was the Zephyr Rock and Roll Grill. It began around 1980-81, started by a group of fans from Elyria, Ohio led by Pat Costigan. Unable to afford the gas to get out to Cleveland every weekend, they took over a small, smelly bar across the street from where their own band would practice, built a stage higher than it was wide, and began booking Cleveland bands on a regular basis. The joint was tiny, and the smell of the long-defunct deep fryer would linger on your clothes for days after you left. The bartender was Jeannie, the same 50ish West Virginia-bred bartendress who had worked there for years. The crowd was a mix of her old regulars, Clevelanders who would brave the commute there, Elyrians starving for music other than Charlie Daniels, and Charlie Daniels fans who'd come to gawk and harass and, more often than not, ultimately dance. This is just a partial list, but I remember seeing these bands there: Wild Giraffes, The Adults, The Ponyboys, Dr. Bloodmoney, Insanity and the Killers, Lucky Pierre; I remember Wayne Kramer of the MC5 played there on his birthday once. The stage was over 5 feet high, made of rickety, about-to-break plywood. It was probably 4 feet wide. It was a perfect height to deal with hecklers. I remember once a Cat-hat wearing Elyria boy was taunting Crystal of the Adults from right against the stage, and without missing a note she laid a bootheel in his face. But for the most part it was drunken dancing; punks dancing with middle-aged Elyria women, new wave Cleveland chicks with Elyria bikers, all slipping around a tiny, cramped, greasy deep-fried dance floor. It's a low-rent strip joint now, nothing special. But it used to be.
(Sunny Jim)
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| HANG OUTS: HOUSES | |
| | 1385 E 25th Street
The House That Rocked
If the curators of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame act quickly enough, they can score a great new exhibit which might bring a little warmth and character to that giant space age toilet on the shore of Lake Erie. All they'd have to do is get over to 1385 E.25th Street, right off the Superior exit of I-90, downtown, and move a couple of old frame houses from the property before they're torn down.
Simple enough. And for their trouble, they would have a chunk of real Cleveland rock and roll history. To members of the Cleveland underground music scene, Thirteen-Eighty-Five, the address of the front house, serves as the common name for the entire property. This includes the famous alley, which runs along the north side, separating it from what was once the Colony Restaurant and is now radio station WZAK-WZJM, which recently purchased the property from its former owner, Alex Gorski.
As soon as Gorski, a Cleveland attorney and patron of the arts, bought the property in 1981, 1385 became a haven for various local musicians, artists and scene-makers. When asked for details about the history of the property, Gorski replied,"1385 speaks for itself. You don't need me." He was downplaying his role as landlord to a substantial portion of Cleveland's musical and artistic subculture for over 15 years.
Throughout the years, members of such bands as the Pagans, the Pink Holes, and the Floyd Band walked its warped floors and thrashed away in its medieval basement, fighting for space among the mountains of beer cans and debris. At one point every member of my old band, Starvation Army, and our girlfriends lived in the house at the same time. It wasn't exactly one big happy family. Local artist, Robert Richie (a.k.a. "Dick Head") lived in and around the house at various times. For several weeks he lived in a 1967 Plymouth Fury parked in front of the house. Richie rented the car, which stopped running shortly after its test drive, from Starvation Army's humanitarian drummer, Sean Watkins.
The convenience of living right downtown in your very own practice space, minutes away from Cleveland State University and numerous dive bars appealed to the musical and artistic types who made 1385 and its smaller companion, usually known as the Back House, their homes. The neighborhood, composed of small businesses among residential streets, is quiet and the people are civil, but generally keep to themselves.
In the two years I lived at 1385, the police were called only once. A Fourth of July celebration got out of hand, and one of the guests, in a patriotic frenzy, climbed into the vacant Colony Restaurant next door and liberated vast quantities of booze, which had been left behind. The fingerprint van pulled up the next morning and intensified our hangovers, but nobody even knocked on the door. The matter was forgotten about in a few days.
In return for the neighbor's tolerance, we always tried to end our band practices at a reasonable hour, and if we were going to be having a particularly large party,
we would inform them of the date and time and, of course, invite them. None of them ever showed up, but I think they appreciated the gesture.
It's possible that the neighbors actually felt safer knowing that there was a house on the corner where someone was guaranteed to be up and about at any time, day or night. The house served as a sort of neighborhood watch. Maybe not the most reliable crime deterrent, but a center of activity which might make someone think twice about breaking into a house or car on the street. For most of my stay at the house, we didn't even lock the front door because we only had one key between all of us.
In the last few years, 1385 has been the home to some of the first tenants who originally rented the space from Alex Gorski in 1982. They will also be the last tenants. By May 1, 1998, both 1385 and the Back House must be vacated to become victims of the wrecking ball. According to WZAK's General Manager Lee Zapis, the space will be used "for expansion". Tom Miller, former guitarist for Starvation Army now with Swank Motel and the New Caesars, first told me of 1385's fate. He also suggested that the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame be informed. We both laughed and shared memories of our old home, a place we grew to hate after a while and were glad to leave, but a place that seems to be part of our personal history as musicians and friends.
The only consolation I can find is that 1385 was bought and will be demolished by a radio station, not some other concern with no connection to Cleveland music and culture. It could have ended up as another parking lot for Cleveland State University, a fate shared by the old Cleveland Agora, the Pop Shop and the infamous pre- and post-gig drinkery, the 2300 club. What is it about the unsung cultural landmarks in Cleveland that makes them so attractive to the parking lot developers?
Thirteen eighty-five, with its ugly pale yellow paint job and its linoleum dining room floor depicting a crude map of the United States, is not a particularly impressive example of American craftsmanship from a bygone era. Instead, it is an old house that, for a time, captured the spirit of an rough and tumble independent music and art scene in Cleveland. For this it will be missed.
Who knows? Maybe the Rock Hall will return my phone calls after all.
(Fraser Sims)
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| | 1385 E 25th Street
1385 has 1,385 stories I'm sure... I'm going to tell number 1,385 the last one.
The bulldozer was on its way, I lived in the back house and Lair Lewis, Tim Allee and Tim Shaw were the last hold outs in the front house. As fate would have it we found another huge house with many apts. just a block away also awaiting a date with a bulldozer two yrs down the line, but thats another story. Anyway we were coming off a monster party binge weekend, the last one there. None of us had cars, so we actually took turns moving all our shit one trip at a time in a shoping cart. Shaw was the last to go cuz he was always the last to recover from a binge. Here's the skinny on Tim Shaw for those who don't know him .Tim was and is Clevelands premier black punk rocker, he knew all the songs went to all the shows, partied out of control. Sometimes he would even forget he was black. Once I was supposed to hook up with him at the warp tour show, and he started telling me what he would be wearing so I could find him in the crowd. I was like "Dude , wait, the only other black guy there is going to be Ice T, I think I'll be able to pick you out". That's Tim, So back to the last 1385 story. Tim at the time had long black dreads and wore an old army coat. He loaded up hiis shit and was pushing the cart down the street, When a BMW pulled along side him, the
window rolls down and its Linn Tolliver DJ from WZAK waving a twenty spot at him. WZAK had bought 1385 and the back house to demolish and make parking space. Tolliver thought the station had turned Shaw homeless. He apologized for the station and wanted to give Tim the twenty. Shaw, proud brother that he is, denied that he was homeless but Tolliver insisted he was and that he take it. So Tim takes the bill and says "Thanx The beer's on you tonight." 1385 out with a bang. Tim Shaw, "cheers dude!"
(Floyd)
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| | Cat City
If you were playing out back in the early 80's there was no better stop on the way to a gig than "Cat City". A visit with Bobby was sure to include some interesting people and some stimulating (almost esoteric at times) conversation. From local Cle gossip and politics to UFO's and conspiracy theories it was always a good time. People were always smiling at Bobby's house!!
(Bill DeGidio)
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| HANG OUTS: BARS | |
| | Harbor Inn (the Flats)
In '82-'84, Jerome Caja and I used to walk to our houses in Ohio City from CSU long after school was closed and bus lines had quit running reasonably. There was always the question of going over the bridge or through the flats. Beer was the decision maker, and if so, we'd go to the Harbor Inn. This bar had a pretty broad mix of people, depending on which part of the day and week you were attending.
Late on a weekday night it had a sparse collection of obscure joe's: some flats workers off their shifts, dart players, drunken businessmen and secretaries from up the hill, and early yuppies from the Warehouse District. The place was long, a dark seamy section on one end with one of those old phone booths (which would have been soundproof if it hadn't been for the fact that you had to yell into the equally old-fashioned phone); it also had the well-lit side with the dartboards, little tables in the middle of the room, the burger kitchen, and the toilets. Jerome and I would have one, at most two beers, and I admit I enjoyed the Krakus. We'd play "Back On the Chain Gang" on the jukebox and dance in front of it like the Pretenders were live in the bar. He looked like a very tall eight year-old girl and we'd cruise people together. First we'd dissect the sex appeal merits of any and every man in the bar. If we agreed on someone, we'd play the teasing game from both our abilities - me by staring at the target with parted lips, and Jerome by coyly hiding everything but his eyes (which stripped their subject nude) behind a long blond curl he twisted endlessly around his finger. Then he'd freak out anyone with the urge, by pissing in the men's room urinal. Most of the time they'd just back out sheepishly muttering apologies, check the door, and go back in. He'd smile openly, cock his head to the side while zipping it up, and unapologetically say, "Hi." Soon after, we'd walk up the other side of the valley and go home.
Around the same time, I'd occasionally meet up there with my brother-in-law in mid-afternoons. Again it was a mix of people: flats workers, beefy with hardhats; cab drivers or delivery guys still on their shifts; assorted other happy drunks. The jukebox was always cranked up in this place, and anyone drinking in the middle of the day wants to hear some music, so it got loud in the afternoons. We played lots of Centipede and Pac Man. Eventually, we'd go home drunk to our respective houses, one above the other, where he was usually late for dinner (if my sister hadn't already met up with us by then).
(Anna van der Meulen)
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| | Harbor Inn (the Flats)
A hang out for those early proto-punks that were destined for AA, (unless they were destined to die a premature, infamous, ignoble and igneous death in their parent?s Bay Village home).
Recognizing that because some punk engineers had dug the St. Larry Seaway, Cle was an international port, The Harbor Inn served over thirty different imported beers and an international selection of liquors.
Before you were mixing margs with Cuervo Gold (gold because it has been aged in oak barrels and why the fuck would any self-respecting Mexican age tequila in an oak barrel?) there were oodles of El Toro and Gavilan tequila to be had. Violet liquor from France, Pernod, Raki, Arak and Ouzo. They even said at my request, they would inquire as to bottle of Absinthe from Lisboa.
When you would finish a bottle you would get the first shot of the next bottle free and you always got a gratis drink on your birthday.
In an era before commensurate coolers of imported beers were in every ubiquitary Lawson?s and omnipresent Korean Bodega, before even the ubiquitary and omnipresent Korean Bodegas, The Harbor Inn served Fosters, Dos Equis, Whatney?s Red Barrel, Guinness, St. Pauli Girl and for those that remained sissy, there was plenitudinous, ubiquitary and omnipresent Bud, Black Label, P.O.C. and Genny.
It was the place where I slow danced with Brian McMahon in the hopes of broadening the cranial usage of the exclusive clientele.
An unmemorable jukebox, an unmemorable dart board, you went there simply for hours and hours of memorable hardcore, blackout, under aged drinking.
(John Morton)
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| | Nemeth's (Painseville)
If you are from Painesville, this is where you had your first drink in a bar. Nemeth's has been here forever. Johnny Nemeth runs the joint, as did his father before him. During the day, it has always been a subdued working mans bar. A handful of flannel shirt, construction types killing a rainy day. As evening arrives, the balance shifts towards the local youths who begin to file in. It's also the place that if you are home for the holidays or from college or whatever, you make sure to stop in.
Johnny has always maintained the best jukebox of any bar I have ever frequented. During the late 70's, I remember sticking money in the machine and I could find Pagans, Cramps, Pistols or Ramones and more of the like to choose from and the tunes would blast out. It would always amaze me to be sitting there at two in the afternoon listening to this stuff, surrounded by ten to fifteen guys who I am sure would rather be listening to Skynyrd or Clapton. But they never seemed to mind. Johnny started bringing bands in occasionally over the last decade. Swank Motel, Buddy Love Combo, Satan's Satellites, the Phantoms, Ditch to name a few. But I would never consider it a live venue, just a great bar. Johnny has always maintained a great selection of beers as well.
(Cheese Borger)
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| COLLEGE RADIO | |
| | Miscellany
I'd have to say Michigan Mom, Cliff Faintych (sp?), Chris Rockmore, Larry Collins, and Joe Banks from WRUW. From WCSB, Penny (her last name escapes me), Maria (my sister), Tim Lanza, Elizabeth Jadud, and the
absolute king of the air waves, Tim Gilbride. I know I'm forgetting some good people, so help me out here.
(Carol Spiros)
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| | Miscellany
I tripped over college radio in late 1982 in my desperate attempt to find an exit out of the finite spectrum off the radio dial. Little did I know that it was going to feed me into the visible spectrum of live hand to hand punking in clubs like the underground, lakefront et. all. All I know is one night I was scrambling to find used tapes to record over. I did not use good tapes and the quality was shit. Those tapes are gold today and I treasure them and try to keep them on life support. Did anybody have the same dilemma as I in trying to figure out if I should turn off psickick dance hall to switch to the first church of Howard Devoto with Michigan Mom. talk about sophie's choice! I have a tape of the very last drug oriented pop experience with Lars Harper. Anyway, college radio in its invisible transmission along with all the young punks I drank and decayed with are very much a part of my blood. Do you remember rock and roll radio? Crazy Lady Blue, Cheap Heroin, Pre-Ukraine, Insecure Hilarity, Seven, Twentieth Century Groove Angel, Cave Drawing 101, Dead Rubber Bubbas, Your Favorite Rebellion, Millions of Dead Chicken Heads, Brother Jimmy, on and on and on. Hell yeah, I do and I will. We'll always have those memories of back in the day and the soundtrack to those memories.
(Jeff Dodge)
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| | WBWC
The radio station of Baldwin Wallace college (out of Berea) is testing the
waters of a wattage increase, which just took place last February, and has an
unnamed punk show run by a young man who goes by the name of Casper. It airs
Friday nights from 11 to 1 am. Other that that, the "Sting" plays different
shit, as well as some fomatted-mainstream-college-prep-type music (which i
have mixed feelings about , ahem). Our music library is actually quite
varied; the first time I saw it I was lightweight impressed - there are a ton
of old records in there. Anyway, Casper has fit a five piece band into that
little air studio before; he usually has some guests and from what I have
listened to of his shows (when Ii'm concious enough to remember he's on the
air on Friday nights) he plays decent shit. Some of the punk is new; some old.
at least he's trying. Just letting you know.
(Monica J)
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| | WCSB
Okay sure I remember listening to college radio as a young teenager,
but the person who was the most important for bringing great local punk rock
to the air was Steve Wainstead.
He was the man, the God for me and I am sure many other young punks
in Cleveland. His distinct voice and on the air style is a true classic and
something that no one should never, ever forget. He is the quintessential
radio personality for WCSB and I am sure he is missed to this day! A great
memory of mine is.....
I was an apprentice at WCSB during their Annual RadioThon, and
Steve's show (Blood and Shaving Cream) was quite early in the morning, so no
one wanted to come in so early and answer phones. I truly considered it an
honor to help him and take the phone calls. The phones literally ran off
the hook. It was bitter sweet because such a diverse group of listeners
called in to donate to the Radio Station and they all had such admiration
for Steve, that I truly think it over whelmed him (and I may even saw a tear
or two!) The callers were awesome and they told me such great stories about
having Steve in their lives for so many years, that it really makes me sad
to not hear him on the air anymore! Steve we love you and miss you!!!
Oh and what about those crazy, lovable Punks..Matt and Mike from
"Blows against the Empire" That was the show to hear the coolest and newest
stuff the punk world had to offer. Who can forgot there wise cracks and
jokes as they spun such awesome punk rock. I can remember all my friends
would be at home listening to them and we would compete against each other
for the free tickets they would give away for every cool show. Man those
were the memories!!
Overall, I think that WCSB changed my life for good. The programming was great and thanks to the university for letting the station
be a true student ran organization!!! Rock on WCSB!
Heather Young
Event and Gallery Manager
Cleveland Center for Contemporary Art
8501 Carnegie Avenue
Cleveland, Ohio 44106
Ph. 216.421.8671
Fax. 216.421.0737
Visit our website @ www.contemporaryart.org!
(Heather Young)
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| | WRUW
I remember being woken up by my clock/radio during my junior year in high school (1985)to "Diane" by Husker Du, forget about it, I was hooked. I remember calling WRUW to find out who the band was and the DJs name was Diane, she always ended her show with that song and I think I listened to her show every week after that until she graduated. WRUW, WUJC and WCSB were some of the best college radio stations anywhere. I remember scheduling my day around some of the shows. Wednesday nights on WUJC was "Boots Upside Your Head" with Ingrida, man was that an eye opener for me. I think it was all about the summer of 85 for me, I had been on the sidelines until then, but really dove in head first that summer. I saw Black Flag at Cleveland Public Theatre and bought "Can I Say" by Dag Nasty and it was all over.
(Jason Merhaut)
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| | WRUW
I owe my Clepunk existence to WRUW-FM. In 1980 I was 17 and I was your standard mainstream WMMS-listening teen from the 'burbs. My friend Sue and I listened to the radio a lot because we had overprotective parents
who wouldn't let us out of the house much. One night she was messing around at the low end of the dial and found some show called the "Drug Oriented Pop Experience (D.O.P.E.)" where the hosts did unprofessional things like leaving (gasp) dead air and throwing cassettes around on mike to listen to them break and hanging up on callers ("It's Your Hangup!") She called me up and said "You HAVE to hear these guys,
they're the worst disc jockeys in the world." So I tuned in and discovered they were playing bands I'd never heard of, with the exception of the Velvets and the Sex Pistols. This got my attention, because I was totally jaded and figured I'd heard of every band out
there. I mean, I never missed an issue of Scene (ha) and I'd read every rock book at the Lakewood Library AND Westgate Mall.
Sue and I started listening to D.O.P.E. every Saturday night and calling up the hosts, Lars Harper and Larry Collins. Lars played about the same ten records every week so pretty soon I got to love Chrome and Magazine
and could even tell them apart (!). In an effort to capture our heroes' attention, Sue and I decided to start a Lars and Larry fan club. We wrote a newsletter and made little "I Love Lars and Larry and WRUW-FM"
buttons with a kit I borrowed from our school's Latin Club. We also made up funny stories about Lars and Larry and what we imagined they did all day when they weren't on the air, and we talked about them all the time at school. Our other friends had never heard of these guys and thought we were nuts. At one point my mom got suspicious of what we were doing on the phone with these "older men" (ha) and called up Larry herself and talked to him. (To his credit, he managed to be reasonably polite.) Another time we went down to Larry's "Hotdoggerama" cart outside the Justice Center so I could see what the guy actually looked like.
The high point of this infatuation came when WRUW sponsored the First Annual Studio-A-Rama in summer 1981, hosted by Larry as an outgrowth of his "Live from Studio A" program. Sue and I desperately wanted to go and badgered my mom into giving us a ride. That was the day I first laid eyes on the Wombats and the Human Switchboard (who had their soundcheck interrupted when the wedding party from the chapel next door came onstage to complain about the noise). After we saw a few bands, my mom appeared, took one look at the Wombats' girlfriends who were dressed
in sexy punk bondage outfits, and yelled at us all the way home, "Do you want to go around looking like THAT?" Well, yeah, kinda...maybe a little more conservative, wink wink.
At any rate, I had already been accepted to Case and the minute I hit campus I made a beeline for WRUW, where I not only got to hang with my heroes, Lars and Larry, but also met scads of other cool deejays including M. Mom, Neal Martin, Chris Rockmore, Cliff Faintych, Catherine Butler, the always ever-so-cool Wade Tolleson, and many more. It was a bittersweet night when Lars finally hosted the very last D.O.P.E. show before heading off to greener pastures in North Carolina, even though I got to take over his slot. But that's...another story.
(C.L.Blue)
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