Bro Night

July 2nd, 2009

In this Review:

Beanbag cafe
Gaucho at Tartine

Bro on Stingray

My bike at Cassanova
The Ferocious Few on the corner of 16th and Valencia
Terrence McManus and Scott Amendola at Blue Six Center
Tacos at Vallarta, 24th at Treat
The Attic
Beauty Bar
Holly

Track listing of audio:
1) Gaucho at Tartine
2) Magpie by The Ferocious Few on the corner.
3) McManus and Amendola at Blue Six.

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It started out on a low note. Racing down upper Market I hit a number of potholes and ended up with a pinchflat. City, do your job, it’s really hazardous out here. But then it got better. I fixed the tire and my Biology experiment went very well, finally, and I got the beautiful data out to JB and headed out early to the Beanbag Cafe. I was scheduled by the band to go home to re-amp all the vocals through the Crate Limo, but I had a bunch of photos to edit and I was on a roll, focused by all the “tea” and the pretty flowers. They looked gorgeous and some were even band related so i didn’t feel too bad about shirking my mixing responsibilities.

I told myself I would have only one beer (just $1.75 plus tax, $1.92 for Fat Tire or Prohibition or IPA or some micro special from 3-10PM every day) but I was really on a roll and I ended up getting a burger and another Fat Tire and my head was already swimming from the flowers and all the Peet’s Phoenix Mountain Oolong and I was a little afraid for my life riding back through the Western addition to my place up the hill. I had to stop by and pick up some more film at Photoworks on Market and then I raced up 18th as fast as I could on my beautiful LeMond Sarthe with a new tube and everything.

The singer was up and about, smoking the little cock pipe and wondering where I’d been because they made the effort to get the amp up there, but that’s the way it goes. I’m planning on taking the whole next day off to work on this stuff, although now it’s the next day and all I’ve done is clean my room, ride the Stingray down to the Mission for lunch in Dolores Park and now I’m at Tartine with my recycled coffee cup.

Anyway, it was about that time to meet Andrew, Joss and the word was out to Holly to come out to Cassanova. The plan was to meet there an hour before the show at Joe’s Blue Six Center and so I rode through the park and down the hill early because I wanted to cruise around the Mission on my newly refurbished 1969 chrome Schwinn Stingray.

I cruised through Dolores Park, popping a wheelie all the way down the grass, and made it straight to Tartine where Gaucho had a couple more songs in them. They have a great Tuba player and the accordion guy seemed like a standout and they’re well worth seeing, usually at Amnesia on Wednesday nights, I believe, but don’t take my word for it.

I was looking forward to seeing Holly, who has been elusive, but stays in touch and now she’s says that she’s rehearsing until 9:00 and so I move onto Cassanova and wait for Andrew, a new bro from work who just moved into the Marina to be near all the pretty girls, but I’m riding in and out with my bike and using it as a barstool and I feel pretty retro and notable and I’m smoking a Drum outside and coming in for a swig and riding here and there checking to see if the Few are on the corner and I cruise by Monks Kettle to say Hi to Katy through the glass and she gives me a hard time for not seeing Amanda any more, but she can always

Gaucho, gypsie jazz at Tartine Bakery

contact me you know, and then I cruise around and the Few are setting up and I go finish up my beer, wheel out, and now I’m rolling a Drum for the singer and I’m sitting there on my banana seat when Drew rolls up and is digging the scene.

We stay for a couple of songs, the guys are just phoning it in, but I get a better sense of their well developed street sound and I take some mental notes about Gasoline and Cocaine for my mix. It’s gonna be tight.

And now it’s time to head out to 24th and so I wheel on down, Drew’s gonna take a bus but he’s envious of my sweet wheels, as is everyone just about, and I take my

The Ferocious Few on the corner

time cruising by Latin America Club and Revolution but nothing is going on and so I keep it alive and lock up right in front of the little “club” which is already underway.

I enter the dimly lit space, David is at the bar/door and Joe is seated on the left. I whisper Hi because it’s decidedly quiet and respectful, like a church and the guys are in the middle of a hushed section of their avant-garde Jazz masterpiece that lasts about 25 more minutes of masterful drumming that hardly consists of any traditional drumming at all, rather rimshots, cymbal scrapes, clanks on the side of the heads or the hardware, just about anything but stick on head, and guitar playing that has hardly any notes but rather, fun with 60Hz electric hum, hand squeeking on the neck and back of the guitar, controlled feedback, bow scraping, random fingering and paperclipping. It was rad. I had a couple of beers and wondered if Drew was feeling it because there was hardly anyone here, no girls to speak of, and I’m sure the difficult nature of the music wasn’t anyone’s cup of tea although the two were clear experts at their

McManus and Amendola at BlueSix

instruments and he said he really got into it, so there you go. The space is great and Joe clearly has good taste and it’s about as chill as it gets and so I highly recommend it.

It was time for a smoke with Joe, but first we went nextdoor to Vallarta for their amazing $1.50 tacos, best I’ve had since L.A. or San Diego and it’s my new late night spot even though Farolito is nearby, but fuggut, this place is less crowded and even more legit. The salsa was really hot and good and the smoke was great and Joe showed us the greenroom and I really wanted to ask him about some of the details about running a little club but now

Joe at BlueSix

was not the time and we just laughed about women and how they turn our alpha off and then they’re through with us. I guess it’s just a test, I said, to see just how alpha we really are.

It was off to Beauty Bar for Drew and I but we stopped in at The Attic first and there were some really pretty girls in there all hanging out with what we referred to as their Zeta males. It was a Mission conundrum. Here were were too alpha and too beta in the Marina. What’s a guy to do? We just couldn’t get over what these hot girls had for these guys. I’m sure it makes perfect sense, but it’s still a mystery and endlessly mindblowing. Like the guys that go out with those hot girls at Tartine. They must have amazing talents that are not immediately obvious.

The girls were were talking to at The Attic were a dead end and so we downed our Jamisons and made it straight to Beauty Bar, pointing out Medjool on the way

Some French guy outside Beauty Bar

down because I thought he might appreciate although I will never step foot in that dooshy place again for as long as I live.

Beauty Bar was going off although the only good song he played was a Jackson Five song, and all the girls were super wasted and we made the most of it but it was a fools errand and I talked to a bunch of French guys outside and let them ride my Stingray and the one guy told me I should take it to Paris with me because I would have a lot of “success”. It was rad and they all had huge smiles on their faces as they rode around and popped wheelies and then I just took off and rode up the hill.

Yes, I went up Cumberland and I was planning on dropping off a flower but I could remember the license plate number of her car and I wasn’t sure if it was even there and I got a vision of her parked at some other guy’s place and so I kept walking up the hill and I didn’t feel too bad after all.

Holly completely flaked though and so she gets only a half a star out of five. The half comes from keeping my informed of her progress by text all night, but she never made it out so subrtact 4 1/2.