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A stint at rehab

July 17, 2008

Ok, so technically not “Rehab” a la Lindsay Lohan and others, but almost as entertaining. Our band What What Where performed last night at Rehab in Alphabet City (formerly Club Midway) and had one of our best shows ever. We all let loose and just kind of ran with it, while still staying in sync. Maybe it was the energy we still had from the craziness of our previous show, when we opened for Mindless Self Indulgence at Terminal 5 to a sold out crowd of 3,000 people that made the Rehab feel so intimate and let us just let go and have fun on stage. There is something hilarious, however, about going from VIP rooms and backstage riders demanding hummus and coconut juice for our Terminal 5 gig to waiting on St. Mark’s Place, alone, at midnight on a Wednesday for the M103 bus to come. And of course, I’m in that middle zone where I’ve drunk just enough to be pleasantly buzzed but not too much that I’m going to pass out the minute I see a soft surface, that I adamantly refuse to fork over cash for a cab. Quitting my job in the late spring when I decided to try to become a full time musician means I got zero moolah coming in, and I know I can wait it out until that damn bus comes because it’s ‘the city never sleeps’ NYC so it has to come at some point– maybe not in five minutes or ten minutes, and I may have to bear the sight of numerous M101 and M102 buses ending their routes right at that corner before the magical M103 emerges like a beacon of hope from the onslaught of traffic barreling down 3rd avenue, but it will come. Besides, at that point I was still kind of high on adrenaline from the show, and lugging around my vocal effects kit, and I sort of wanted that time alone waiting for the midnight bus to think about the gig we just did and watch the late night antics of New Yorkers.
Even though my vocal effects mic somehow didn’t turn on when it was supposed to, and we started late due to a missing band member, it was altogether a really sweaty, awesome show. God, I wish I could do that every night.
(And for the record, I drunkenly lost my willpower and gave in to indulging John in his stupid “Knock knock” joke, although I really don’t think it is as funny as he thinks it is. John, care to share?)

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