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Oh
my god! I'm an ass I don't even remember who was playing drums
with us that first time a cbgb's. Had to be allan or bob.
Any body out there still have a mind that was around then, set
me straight. I love them both. I just lost too many brain cells.
Hope they rejunivated or else I'm running this business on wispers
from beyond. |
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It
was our first show at CBGB's. I'm still not sure how we got
there. We were all broke. Friends drove us, friends put us up.
I stayed with Sharon Cadick. She and her boyfriend wanted to
be alone so he gave me goodies and cash to go out. I walked
the streets for two days and nights. Went to see David Johansen
do his Buster Poindexter thing. We sat arround the bar and sang
gospel songs after hours then Moose (played Bass for Lou Reed
at one time) and I took off and went to a diner. Then everything
went blank until sound check. Sound check goes ok and I went
back to Sharons to get dressed for the show. Go to the gig and
boy the boys did great! The house was packed, lots of frends
that had moved to New York showed. The energy was infectuious!
Larry's guitar work was like a rocket that never went into orbit.
He just kept going. Not ounce was there a lull or repitition.
Tim just drove the thing to a peak from the git go and never
stopped, never dropped a note on that bass and Alan kept us
grounded, steady and hard. I was having fun screaming my heart
out. The crowed loved it. I had jumped off the stage and was
running my hand up inside the pant leg of this guy sitting at
a table right in front. It was a song called tight pants. I
was on the floor moanin' and groanin' and reaching higher up
his leg when I looked up and saw it was a Hell's Angel and he
only had one hand. The other one was a stainless steal hook.
I was taken aback and got back on stage. That didn't stop this
guy. He jumped up on stage and tackeled me to the floor. The
music never stopped, The crowd is going nuts! I'm still singing
and we're rolling around on the stage. I get on top and pin
his arms (so I thought) by stradeling him and knealing on his
forarms. I was astounded when he hurled me over his head with
just his upper body strength. He's back on top and I'm stunned.
we're still doing the song. I Look up and there is Tim and Larry
playing their guitars and looking at me like what do we do now?
The guy finally lets me go and jumps off the stage and the set
continues. What a great gig! Playing CBGB's is a high I'll never
forget. The energy you get just from being on that stage where
so many great musicians have been grabs your soul.
Sure was different the second trip....
Val |
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O.K,
here we go, the second Lurid show in New York at CBGB's and
let the truth finally be told. I've given up my years of silence
for just the facts. And to come clean.
First of all, our first gig there was great, but there were
only a handful of people there, mostly transplanted Clevelanders
and old friends. The stage antics Val described were wild and
true. I do remember looking at Tim, mid-song, and just thought,
"What the hell?". But that was/is Lurid.
The first gig I drove to New York with my then girlfriend in
some beater, praying it would make the distance. She was a goth-like
girl, and of course stopping for gas in a hicktown part of Pennsylvania
at three in the morning, the local sheriff eyed us as he drank
his coffee in the station, and followed us as we left until
we exited his county line. I think we all know, don't judge
a book by it's cover. But certain people, especially the law,
will. But I'm digressing here.
So the car made it, and we were in the Big Apple. We were gonna
stay with a couple of friends that I knew from Cleveland. And
hell if it wasn't a pain in the ass lugging the Fender Twin
up four flights on narrow stairs. There was only street parking,
and fuck if I was gonna leave it and my guitar in the car.
I'm not really naming names here; that's in the book that tells
all. I guess this is just a tease. Anyway, I think our gig was
on a Tuesday or Wednesday night. The girls had left the apartment,
my friend asked if I wanted to get high. It tempted me; I had
only a few times partaked in this drug. But hell, it was New
York, and I was finally playing on stage at CBGB's! "Sure,"
as I tied my arm.
I never played that good that night in my life. I had no idea
where it came from, but I just felt like God.
Back in Cleveland, we get the call Hilly wants us to come back
to play at CB's on a Saturday night, headline. He liked our
set. Maybe we were on to something. We were going back!
So Val set up with some hippy guys who were gonna drive us in
their van, Bob was gonna drum and was flying in from God knows
where, and Val, Tim, and I rode in the back of this van, on
the metal floor (no seats) and I gringed as these two "roadies"
smoked pot and laughed at how fast they could go on the mountain
highway. I just looked down at the "plunge" factor,
and shut my eyes.
Well, we made it. But in the city I had told myself, it's a
Saturday night gig. I'm gonna shine again. No DOPE! I didn't
want that to be my crutch. I was on. WE were on. So, to end
this fast, I decided that a fifth of Vodka could replace that
feeling I had less than two weeks ago.
I'd play even better.
Disaster.
Four bands played before us, a real lot of people there this
time. That was exciting, this was our moment.
It's kinda a blank. I kept kicking my cords out, I couldn't
keep in tune, I forgot the songs. I think I might have fell.
I just don't know, but it was a total flame out for ME and us.
I remember waking up in the van, on that steel floor, looking
up, and asking, "Did We play yet?"
The two "roadies" were driving, I noticed the freeway
sign that said "Youngstown". Tim, Val, and Bob, who
had flown in just for this gig just glared and didn't say a
word. I knew then that I had just killed the band. I went back
to sleep and hid my head.
But unlike some stories, this one has a happy ending. After
21 years, our CD is being released on Smog Veil Records this
year, and we'll do it again, a hell of a lot smarter, tighter
than hell, and yes, at least just for me, no dope or fifths.
And that's my side; well, as much as I remember.
Peace out
LAIR |
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