FAST AND LOUD
FAST AND LOUD
Out on the town in Brooklyn again. This time to a bar named The Fifth Estate @ 506 5th Avenue, Brooklyn to see Bob of the Shirts. If you don’t know who The Shirts are then look them up. One of the seminal punk bands from Brooklyn in the 1970s and CBGBs.
But tonight I am at one of the many bars on Fifth Avenue in Brooklyn. I’m drinking Jameson’s and a beer chaser. My old man was a shot and a beer guy. Probably Four Roses and some shit beer, but never the less I follow in the old man’s footsteps when it comes to bars and drinking. It takes a long time in life to figure this out.
We walk in, to the sound of Pinballs clanging and Rock and Roll.
We are there to hear Bob of the Shirts. Bob was a member of The Shirts. He plays bass and sings and writes songs and paints art and God knows what else. He just carries on. Tonight is about older rockers and older listeners playing on into the night. Who gives a fuck? We just keep going.
I am into fast and loud music. Now being an old fuck it is not always easy, but this is what I need and want. The crowd here tonight is also mostly older. They like this music too. Older listeners reliving the 60s and 70s and CBGBs and when music had some meaning to our culture. We are young again for a night with grand guitar solos, not the droning muddy sound of much of today’s music. This music is strong and clear. I wonder what the fuck is wrong with most current musicians. Why can’t they pick up were we left off and carry it into the future. Instead, they play dull, monosobilic music that deadens my ears. They either play crap or this hip-hoppity music, bitches and hoes, music. (yah, yah, I know, but fuck you.)
We are part of a community. Lovers of straight up rock and roll. We love it because this music changed our lives. It taught us not to obey authority just to obey. Not to believe all the bullshit that was puked out of the media. Not to believe the propaganda that all would be good if we worked hard, loved out country, obeyed its laws, and were willing to die for all of it. We questioned everything.
Check this out if you like it fast and loud.
Bob of the Shirts plays on. He has to survive. What else can he do at this stage of his life? Turn it all around and become an accountant? Fuck no, he bangs out the music and looks into the abyss. If you want his music, log into CDBaby.com and search Bob of the Shirts. It is there and is great Rock and Roll.
I walked home in the heavy rain with my wife. We did not care about getting wet. We did not care about all the bullshit of the world. Brooklyn is where the good music is. Forget Manhattan and all the touristy bullshit music blues bands catering to college boys. The rain cleaned the streets just like the music cleansed our souls.