By: Corey C.
While The
Pizza Underground were licking the sauce off of their wounds after being
heckled in Europe, leading them to cancel the rest of their tour, another band
was doing a Velvet Underground tribute properly over at The Met in Pawtucket,
RI. Macaulay Culkin and his under-cooked
pizza pies could’ve learned a trick or two from Glenn Mercer and company.
The New Jersey
group has been playing on and off, in one form another, since 1976, and this
time the line-up featured Mercer on lead guitar and vocals, Bill Million on
rhythm guitar and vocals, Brenda Sauter on bass, Dave Weckerman on various
percussion, and Stan Demeski on drums.
Note how none of them are former child actors, already a huge
improvement from The Pizza Underground.
This was my
fourth time attending a Feelies live performance. I admit I’m just plain addicted to their
style of music. Every song starts with a
strummy two or three chord progression, usually catchy as fuck, then builds up
to a climatic, Mercer-destroying solo that reminds me of Neil Young for some
reason, but really sounds something like Ira Kaplan or even Bob Quine. OK, no, you’re right, he sounds like he only
listens to the second and third Velvet Underground records. Whatever.
Every song is exactly the same and perfect.
The first time
I saw them a few years ago at The Middle East in Cambridge, MA, they finished
the night with “I Wanna Sleep in Your Arms,” a deep Modern Lovers cut. From that moment on I’ve been hooked. The third time I saw them perform was notable
because I ended up in the front row grinding with a pretty girl during their
take on The Doors’ “Take it as It Comes”.
Yes, The
Feelies play a shit load of covers, but I swear their originals are great, too. This time around they came out for their
first encore with the VU’s “I’m Not A Young Man Anymore” and “White Light/White
Heat.” Their second encore started with
The Monkeys’ “I’m A Believer”, then they went, ironically or not, straight into
The Beatles’ “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except For Me and My
Monkey”. They played a couple originals,
came out a third time and played The Doors tune I mentioned previously. The fourth and final encore was The VU’s “Rock
& Roll.” Mercer flung his guitar off
at the end, due to some equipment malfunctioning, and then stormed off the
stage. Lou Reed’s ghost was clearly
lurking and it wasn’t hard to imagine him sitting in the corner, nodding and babbling
incoherently to himself, yet still making a motion of approval towards the
night’s proceedings.
It was 12:15
am. The Feelies had been playing since
9:15 pm and had only a twenty-minute break in between two sets. They always do this: no opening act,
back-to-back sets, and one long-ass show.
By the end, the crowd had thinned out from the original 75 attendees to
around 25 hardcores still rocking out. I
looked around and thought to myself: so here’s my future. The entire crowd was
at least fifteen years older than me.
There was a Harold Ramis lookalike to my left. He was jumping up and down in place and
noticeably sweating. Ben Linus’
doppelganger kept trying to dance with a young lady who was already with Don
Johnson’s twin. I knew at least three
record storeowners there. One hippy with
a Jerry Garcia fro and beard tried befriending everybody. Half the crowd wore glasses. Band shirts and Chuck Taylors were ubiquitous. Everyone was slightly disheveled, chubby, and
intelligent-looking. I had found my
people.
At one point
in the night I was watching the Spurs-Thunder basketball game at the bar and I
started getting into an argument with some bro about a terrible non-call by the
referees that screwed the Spurs over.
They were playing in Oklahoma City, and the refs were doing their best
to give the home team an advantage, yet the Spurs eventually still won the game
in overtime, because they are bad-asses and have Tim Duncan. It occurred to me that The Feelies are the
indie equivalent to the Spurs: humble, quietly dominant, easy to root for, and
magical to witness in their triumphs. I
know, this comparison is quite the stretch, but I don’t care. Go Spurs!
Last note: I
had chosen to see The Feelies that night even though recent Internet sensations
Lumpy and the Dumpsters were playing in Providence at AS220. I’m bummed I missed them, but The Feelies are
old and might die soon. Lumpy’s claim to
fame is that a firework hit a kid in the back at one of their shows in
NYC. Also, all their songs are about
slime.
