I took myself out to Tritone on Friday night. I had passed the place many times, as it's right across the street from Bob and Barbara's Lounge. Bob and Barbara's is the kind of dive where, even though Philly is smoke-free, you can still smell the ground-in smoke of years past. It has what is probably the largest collection of Pabst Blue Ribbon memorabilia on the Eastern Seaboard -- the walls are covered top to bottom. The specialty of the house is a shot of Jim Beam and a can of Pabst. (Insert appropriate quote from Blue Velvet here).
Bob and Barbara's is known for Friday and Saturday night jazz, so it makes a cool hangout. And now that The Happy Rooster has changed hands, I am looking for new hangouts.
But I hadn't been to Tritone and it was obviously a hopping place. A funk/jazz bass player I had met at Philly Songwriters was playing there last Wednesday, but my wife's schedule kept me from attending. So on Friday I went on a whim.
The group onstage was KeN, a punk band. The lead singer was female, a fierce gal with glasses. I then realized that most of the band was female with the incongruous exception of the middle-aged male drummer. They rocked out, and I realized I could barely make out the words, but that wasn't really the point. The noise and energy and anger was the driving force -- I could try to write a punk lyric but there wouldn't be much point. You can't hear the words while they're singing and if you had the CD you wouldn't be worried about the lyrics either.
It's like a blues band -- the lyrics aren't the key component. When I hear blues, I hear the repeated chorus and that's about it. Other than that I'm just going with the music, not looking for a story.
Slowly discovering the various corners of Philly music....
No comments:
Post a Comment