Tuesday, January 01, 2008
(1:19 PM) | Adam Kotsko:
Tuesday Hatred: All the Way from Japan
In lieu of Tuesday Hatred today, I am going to tell you the story of my New Year's Eve festivities. Comments are open for any and all hatred.Last night, I went with a friend from the U of C to the Checkboard Lounge, a blues club in Hyde Park. I was expecting it to be a relatively empty dive bar, and so the entire night was a surprise to me. The format of the night was for the backup band to remain steady, while various band leaders took their turn. The opening band leader was an old man who seemed to be drunk, senile, nervous, or some combination thereof, and who simply pointed at the players when it was their turn to do a solo -- once he accidentally pointed at the bass player, who began to play a solo before being cut off abruptly. It was the only bass solo that would be heard that evening, which was also free of any drum breaks.
The old guy made pretty much everyone feel nervous -- I was surely not the only one wondering what the protocol was if a performer dies on stage. But my attention was somewhat diverted by the fact that the band's saxophone player was a young Asian woman. Her solos were all really good, at least to my nonexpert ear, and I at first reasoned that she must be a U of C student who had somehow gotten involved with the club. When the second band leader came up, however, it became clear that no one really knew where she came from. He introduced the soloists by name, except for the saxophone player: "And all the way from Japan... um... the saxophone player! I don't really know her name, but she's one bad mamma-jamma." She then played the solo with aplomb. The headliner, Vance "Guitar" Kelly, also referred to her as merely the saxophone player "all the way from Japan," and over the course of the evening, it became clear that she barely knew English.
Vance "Guitar" Kelly was by far the best among the band leaders. When he first came up, he was wearing a coat and scarf -- which he kept on for the entire night -- so I thought he might be a bouncer making an announcement, but he strapped on the guitar and started playing "Members Only." After an awesome Jimi Hendrix cover, he temporarily handed the reins over to his daughter and her husband -- "all the way from Switzerland" -- who also happened to be a blues guitarist. The daughter was very enthusiastic, though it started to seem like the only song she knew was "Rollin' Down the River," which she sang in two different versions.
Her real passion appeared to be shaking her ass, and at a certain point she decided to do an audience participation portion, where she would teach others her unique dancing style. Despite my protestations, I was chosen as a part of this group, which drew disproportionately from the handful of repressed white people in the club. I was standing next to her for the first lesson, and though I gave it an honest try, looking down at her ass I realized that I simply did not have the muscles required to make anything close to that happen.
Thankfully, a non-repressed white guy quickly took center stage, attempting to outdo the daughter. I gladly stepped aside. The final stage of the audience participation was for us to freeform, or as she put it, "do what you want." I considered sitting down in the nearest chair, but calculated that that would only bring further attention to me. When I was mercifully released, a guy from the next table over -- who incidentally spent much of the evening doing a dance that primarily involved hopping around in circles in his chair -- gave me the thumbs up. I disagreed.
At around 11:15, a meal was served -- a heaping plate of soul food, for which we had to stand in line. I found the late-night meal strange, but it did seem to be a good way of preventing hangover. They distributed glasses of champagne (my friend, who had gone to the Checkerboard for New Year's the previous two years, said they used to give out whole bottles) just in time for the countdown. We left after Vance "Guitar" Kelly's next set.
This post seemed more interesting when I was composing it on the train.
