Art Inspiring Art
The following will be musings on my experience at the Garden State Art Center this past Sunday where hair-metal bands Cinderella and Poison rocked it 80s style. This shall be fractured and transitionless, I have to report to BearStearn's India Conference at 6:45am today the rent needs paying and the blog don't pay the rent.
"New Jersey, are you ready to Rock?" shouted Tom Kiefer, the lead singer of Cinderella.
"My name is Rachael." I retorted, but he couldn't hear me over the roar of the several 100 people at GSA apparently named New Jersey who were indeed ready to rock. Tom Kiefer is the poor man's Steve Tyler for those not in the know. Keifer's lips were big and his voice scratch but his microphone stand only had 2 hankerchiefs.
Poison took the stage and the place errupted. Bret Michaels, the lead singer, kept saying how great it was to be back home. After some research earlier today on allmusic.com I learned 3/4 of the band, including Bret, are from Pennsylvania---er...close enough I guess.
It also turns out that C.C. Deville (lead guitarist) either has Attention Deficist Disorder or can not count musical measures because Mr. Michaels kept having to tell him "Play that guitar C.C." You'd think after 20 years of playing the same songs C.C. would know when it was his turn to solo. I guess that's how they keep it fresh.
At one point Mr. Deville sang a Poison song I had never heard before, however it was not new. Poison don't do new. The chorus of the Deville lost classic contains these words, "I hate everybone in your body except mine." Hard to believe this man is still single.
I was surprised by the lack of hipsters in attendence. You'd think a hair metal show in NJ is choc' full of irony. But, alas, I saw not one thick rimmed pair of glasses, and my messenger bag was the only one in the whole place. Perhaps, it was the lack of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer offered for consumption at GSA that kept the hipsters in Williamsburg. There were, however, a number of bandannas worn about the heads of men with greying beards.
The Garden State Arts center seems to have accepted that their patrons smoke pot on their premises. To accommodate these patrons GSA has vendors walk the grounds selling ridiculously marked-up candy. Brilliant. I think those kids on the NYC subway who sell candy should take a page out of GSA's capitalist handbook. Get off the subway kids and start selling your goods at Tompkin's square park, Prospect Park, Washington Square Park--Hell, any park in NYC will do. Of course, if the kids change their sales territory would force these candy pedlers to change their sales pitch. Right now it goes, "Ladies and Gentleman I'm not selling candy for no sports team or school club. I'm selling candy to make money and keep myself out of trouble." Which is code for, "Buy my box of peanut M&Ms now, or I'll be forced to mug you later."
When I see these kids I always like to ask, "What team do you play for?"
"I don't play for no team." Is the response
"Exactly. Which one?"
"I just told you I don't play for no teams."
"Oh do you mean you play for all teams?"
Then I get pistol whipped with a snickers.
I know you're thinking, "Rachael, who are you to judge someone else's grammar?" I'm a hypocritical smartass with a splitting pistol-whipped headache. Anyway, the kids' new sales pitch, when they move their operations from the dripping underground to the open air of New York's parks, should be, "Execuse me, ladies and gentlemen. I'm selling candy to provide a service for our cities' parks' stoners. I want to make your altered state most enjoyable, God Bless you. M&Ms $8."
"New Jersey, are you ready to Rock?" shouted Tom Kiefer, the lead singer of Cinderella.
"My name is Rachael." I retorted, but he couldn't hear me over the roar of the several 100 people at GSA apparently named New Jersey who were indeed ready to rock. Tom Kiefer is the poor man's Steve Tyler for those not in the know. Keifer's lips were big and his voice scratch but his microphone stand only had 2 hankerchiefs.
Poison took the stage and the place errupted. Bret Michaels, the lead singer, kept saying how great it was to be back home. After some research earlier today on allmusic.com I learned 3/4 of the band, including Bret, are from Pennsylvania---er...close enough I guess.
It also turns out that C.C. Deville (lead guitarist) either has Attention Deficist Disorder or can not count musical measures because Mr. Michaels kept having to tell him "Play that guitar C.C." You'd think after 20 years of playing the same songs C.C. would know when it was his turn to solo. I guess that's how they keep it fresh.
At one point Mr. Deville sang a Poison song I had never heard before, however it was not new. Poison don't do new. The chorus of the Deville lost classic contains these words, "I hate everybone in your body except mine." Hard to believe this man is still single.
I was surprised by the lack of hipsters in attendence. You'd think a hair metal show in NJ is choc' full of irony. But, alas, I saw not one thick rimmed pair of glasses, and my messenger bag was the only one in the whole place. Perhaps, it was the lack of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer offered for consumption at GSA that kept the hipsters in Williamsburg. There were, however, a number of bandannas worn about the heads of men with greying beards.
The Garden State Arts center seems to have accepted that their patrons smoke pot on their premises. To accommodate these patrons GSA has vendors walk the grounds selling ridiculously marked-up candy. Brilliant. I think those kids on the NYC subway who sell candy should take a page out of GSA's capitalist handbook. Get off the subway kids and start selling your goods at Tompkin's square park, Prospect Park, Washington Square Park--Hell, any park in NYC will do. Of course, if the kids change their sales territory would force these candy pedlers to change their sales pitch. Right now it goes, "Ladies and Gentleman I'm not selling candy for no sports team or school club. I'm selling candy to make money and keep myself out of trouble." Which is code for, "Buy my box of peanut M&Ms now, or I'll be forced to mug you later."
When I see these kids I always like to ask, "What team do you play for?"
"I don't play for no team." Is the response
"Exactly. Which one?"
"I just told you I don't play for no teams."
"Oh do you mean you play for all teams?"
Then I get pistol whipped with a snickers.
I know you're thinking, "Rachael, who are you to judge someone else's grammar?" I'm a hypocritical smartass with a splitting pistol-whipped headache. Anyway, the kids' new sales pitch, when they move their operations from the dripping underground to the open air of New York's parks, should be, "Execuse me, ladies and gentlemen. I'm selling candy to provide a service for our cities' parks' stoners. I want to make your altered state most enjoyable, God Bless you. M&Ms $8."
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