The Dears and the decline of western civilization.

If the decline of western civilization could be romanticized as a album it would be summed up as a album the Montreal group The Dears. The tittle of such album would be Degeneration Street. On a cold wet November night I witnessed the exhilaration of a band and its music fill a room. It was an event that could of brought down the world around us and we wouldn't care as long as the band played into the night of forever.

I arrived more than "10 minutes early" I was there a whole hour before doors opened. I decided to do my usual catch up with people I don't usually have time for since I work all the time and no would be a perfect opportunity to see what's up in there lives bit, whew. As my eyes panned around the front bar of the Knitting Factory I only saw a few people sitting here and there. A group of three at a table looking over a laptop, a congregation of people at the bar, oh look there's Murry and Natalia of The Dears, bartender....what? Wait rewind, as my friend Wayne starts about wrapping up work on his book sordidly he began to melt away as I saw Patrick, Rob and Roberto. Holy sweet monkey tits its the band! I quickly end my conversation with Wayne promising to call him back later. I had them all to myself, my sink or swim duck-duck-goose game began as my inner monologue rolled out a whole conversations worth of question for the band. I tend to live inside my head far to often and as I was emerging from the inner recesses of my cavernous mind I watched as the band rolled towards the door and heard my self let out a "I LOVE YOU GUYS" in the most shrill teenage love song of a voice.

Getting over my outburst and after running out to get a slice I returned energized to take on the night. As I dived for a open spot I realized I was the only one in a ten foot radius of the stage. Success, also in hindsight the doors just opened and I flung myself in the room like a drunk hitting the pavement. I pried myself away from the stage long enough to get over to the merch table. All proceeded collected from the sale of The Dears Merch on this residency tour was going to be donated to the War Child organization, I can get behind that. I got a tour poster aw well as a tee. I packed up my swag and found my way back to my spot before the opening band began to play. It was a good set by the band and well I still had at least five feet of room around me before The Dears went on. I thought I had it made, a off center spot to shoot from as well as room. Neither lasted. The crowd swarmed in and Natalia's keyboards were set up smack dab in my face. I saw trapped between the rock and a hard place, well squishy human bodies. The lights lowered and the band took the stage. What followed was Ragnarök to my ears. A symphonic juggernaut of sound and waves of emotional bliss, The Dears playing, in its entirety, their all new material - Degeneration Street.

Alternating between shooting photo's, video, and taking in the show with all my senses I collected a few videos and photos to share. Enjoy.

The second track off of the album "5 Chords"

The Fourth song off of the album, "Thrones"

The eighth song from the album, "Yesteryear"

The twelfth song off of the album, "Unsung"

And it was done. The entire album played live. It was a great tool to promote the upcoming album release and also help the War Child organization. The Dears left the stage and left me much richer in my state of mind. To bad it wouldn't last as you well know a band doesn't leave the stage there is the required encore, that of which blew what little mind I had left.

If the end could have a sound let it be a album by The Dears, let is sing this world softly into the night down a lonely street, Degeneration Street.

I feel like a Dirtbomb.

So I was on the train one day, it was a Monday to be precise. I was running errands in Brooklyn and after stopping at Nicolas, on Fulton St in downtown Brooklyn, and seeing some friends there I was heading back into the city. I felt like it was a good day for me. I turned the corner on Fulton st. and on to Flatbush ave. and proceeded down into the subway. I decided I was going to stop off in the est village before I made my way uptown, so I was going to take the 4 train into the city. I looked down the tunnel. I saw the head lights of another station not that far away and a train was pulling away from it. My bags began to weigh in my hands. I hope I was going to get a seat in the oncoming train. As the train was slowing down and pulled up to the station I noticed there were open seats in the car through a window. The doors opened. I did my usual New Yorker hustle, the ol' push the old lady out the way if she's in your way because or she or the baby mama would get you first and take the seat hustle, into the car. I stopped. Before me was a legend. Not like the movie but a genuine rock legend. My thoughts raced to Detroit and the online doc I saw last week with friend about the city, in part because he's from their also because members of his band we're in it. Before me was none other that fricking MICK COLLINS.  *Pause If you don't know who Mick Collins is take a look,

Mick Collins as the lead singer of The Gories. Along with Mick were Dan Kroha on guitar, and Peggy O'Neill on drums. The band formed in the late 1980's as a blue/rock outift. Very stripped down three piece rock. It was rough, it was guttural and it was pure.



The band went on to produce a few albums before a break-up of the band with Mick eventually creating The Dirtbombs (currently the Gories we're on a reunion tour as of 2010). Originally conceived as a singles release band, they were only going to release 7" vinyl record in the vain of various blues, R&B/soul, and punk traditons, they however eventually put out a album worth of material and have continued to do so.



So there he was sittng there on the four train before me. Mick FRICKING Collins. I was vaclepesd none the least. Why was he here on this train, the train I'm on, where's he going, what's he doing, Who, What, Where, When. My mind was racing to ask him question or say hi in the least. It wasnt like this was the my first time meeting him. I met him once before when I was helping out with the Afro-Punk festival one year and the Dirtbombs played.



 -If you pay attention you can see me in the crowd shots near the drummer.


You know I wasn't like a noob or anything. I've been behind the velvet ropes, in the bath rooms of CBGB's, backstage at more concerts than I care to count (pssst that isn't were the music is, its live and on stage) I know how to act around artist but for some reason I was loosing my cool seeing him just sitting there. He kinda looked like he was in a funky mood, but I was the eager puppy trying to recognition. I went through all the emotions, Acknowledgment - "Oh my fricking moon shine its Fricking MICK COLLINS". Regression - "I wonder if he remebers that time I also saw him outside that dumpling place on 23rd st".. Anticipation - "Just look up, just look my way oh geez what do I say?".   Denial - "Maybe he doesn't know who the fuck I am and my staring at him like a salivating puppy is giving him the creeps, piff naw Mick it me". Realization - "Sigh I have my own curse, doomed to be never remembered by anyone." So as the train swept through the stops and my heart pounded out "Sharpest Claws" the train filled and my direct line sight, glare, was obstructed. I reached my stop my head all spinning from lack of air and I realized that it wasn't my stop oh well. Lesson - maybe I should pick my guitar and lean to play it so I can have random people hyperventilate when they see my just just being me on the train.