[NOTE: All kinds of cool MPMF photos and multi-media are here.]
The last thing I expected the Pizza Bar to be missing was beer. For some reason I had wondered if there would really be pizza, but I never even considered that the venue might not have alcohol. And I was so much more thirsty than hungry!
My friend Luke and I stopped into MidPoint just to be out and around some humans on Thursday night. I had a couple of acts in mind that we would check out, but we were more or less just bullshitting around and drinking beers.
We went to Know Theatre first to see Vanity Theft, an all-girl AltPop band that reminded me of high school. They sounded OK and looked pretty adorable (I wanted to mention to Luke that the lead singer was a cutie, but she kind of looked like his girlfriend so I didn’t say anything). They didn’t bring the house down or anything, but I liked the electric keys being mixed in to their garagey punk sound, kind of like the Distillers with a contemporary, playful Indie feel.
We went upstairs to check out the international stage because some guy yelled that there was free food and beer up there. This statement was just vague enough that we had actually hoped for free beers, but all we got was an overly-emotional rock band called Vanderpark. Luke bought two beers, handed me one and said he’d rather listen to the girl band. After they finished, Vanity Theft hauled their gear up the steps to the right of our table and, while sitting, I called Luke an asshole for not helping them.
During the walk to Main along 12th Street, MPMF logos shined on sidewalks and street corners illuminating the area with the festival’s mark, which was a nice touch. It’s weird enough walking around the desolation that surrounds Main Street, but the lights sort of made you feel like you were supposed to be there. Luke and I turned the wrong way on Main from 12th and some random dude started to ask us what club we were looking for, but Luke told him we knew where we were going even though we didn’t. We were only about 200 feet from the Pizza Bar, and I pretty much knew that — it just took a second.
The front of the bar was fairly crowded for Ann Driscoll when we showed up and filed past the Boston-based singer/songwriter’s small stage next to the door. In the back of the room the wooden bar looked strangely undecorated, which was actually due to the fact that it had no tap handles poking above it and no colorful bottles of liquor behind it. I didn’t even particularly want another beer, but without them we just looked like a couple of black-sweatshirt-wearing bored jerks.
Driscoll sounded pretty great. I noticed her super-nice voice on the MPMF compilation, and her live set was probably more impressive. She played some neat guitar, switching from normal, country-sounding riffs to more playful, moderny bridges and choruses. She seemed like a nice person, too.
Luke and I stood outside for about a minute and decided we didn’t really have anywhere to go and there wasn’t a big crowd on the street yet, so we decided to go to the Northside Tavern and sit around talking about current events and our lives and stuff. On our way to the car another random dude walked past us and smoothly stuck a Harry Potter DVD our way without saying a word. Luke said no thanks, and we laughed at his impressively non-threatening technique.
My windshield was all foggy, but I tried to drive anyway and almost hit four people crossing 12th Street. That was a pretty stupid thing to do, but we pulled over and waited for the defroster to do its thing. At the Tavern some crazy band with about 16 people in it was playing the loudest shit ever heard — and it was seriously loud even from the parking lot across the street. Here’s the thing: This band had two trumpet players, two saxophone players and a trombone. First of all, there’s no need to double up on any of those loud-ass instruments in such a small space; it really just sounds shittier anyway. Secondly, you don’t even need trumpets if you have a trombone — that is just a big trumpet anyway.
Tonight I will be visiting MidPoint a little late, as the importance of a St. Xavier/Elder football game must be witnessed for a future story. And you don’t need to judge me for it either; it’s not like I went to a school like that. If you must know, I went to Northwest — you ever heard of Olympic gold-medalist Jaycie Phelps?
Tonight I’m hoping to catch johnnytwentythree, Fairmount Girls, Jake Speed & the Freddies and Of God and Science and also any cheap DVDs that might come my way.
— Danny Cross
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