Last night was the first time in eight years that I had the chance to see the mighty Letters to Cleo. I wish I could tell you how many times I’ve seen them now, but I lost count somewhere along the line. I saw them on the Common at a Hemp Fest right around the time their second record came out. I saw them at Merrimack College. I saw them at Avalon at least once. I think I might have seen them at the Hatch Shell once. Did I ever see them at TT the Bears or the Middle East? I don’t think so. It’s The Paradise that throws my memory off though. There were so many that I lost track. At least five before last night, but maybe as many as eight? I can’t remember. Suffice to say, I’ve seen Letters to Cleo a whole shit load of times, and each time has been fantastic. They are just a great live band. I’m hoping that this reunion thing will become a regular happening. A little new music, a few shows in some big cities, and a stop or two at The Paradise… where they belong.
The full photo album is here, but they all suck. Just warning you.
There are so many people today who are fans of the Boston Red Sox who have no idea what it means to be a fan of the Boston Red Sox. Once they finally won the World Series, back in 2004, the idea of the Fellowship of the Miserable sort of went away. Now, 12 years later, it’s a distant memory.
For those who don’t understand what it used to be like, let’s just say that last night was like old times.
The Sox magic number to clinch the American League East was one. One Red Sox win or one Toronto Blue Jays loss and the Sox are division champs. The Blue Jays were playing Baltimore, and the Red Sox were playing the Yankees (of course).
Late in the game down in New York, the word comes through that the Blue Jays have lost. Congratulations, Red Sox, you’ve won the division. They had a 3–0 lead and just needed to put away the Yankees so they could start celebratin’.
Bottom of the ninth, their closer on the mound. Kimbrel decides he doesn’t want to throw any strikes. One hit and a slew of walks later and it’s 3–1 Yankees. In comes Joe Kelley to try clean up Kimbrel’s mess. At first it looks like he might get through it. He gets the first two hitters out. Then, bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, two outs, friggin’ Mark Teixeira hits a grand slam. Yankees win, 5–3.
This is what the damn Red Sox used to do to us all the time. Just as it’s time to start the party… lose in gut wrenchingly awful fashion.
Thanks for the memories, guys. Now DON’T DO IT AGAIN!
On Monday my step daughter had to work. My step son suggested that we take advantage of the situation by going to the Museum of Science. Seemed like a good idea to me. We didn’t stay long, but we had a good time while we were there.
iPhone camera evidence follows:
This picture represents my impression of every 1950’s science fiction movie.
It is hard to imagine that this is accurate, but this shows that a T-Rex has bigger feet than I. Ridiculous, am I right?
Here we see a model of the kitty that left the gigantic foot print. I kept telling my step son that this was just a big kitty with a baldness issue but he wasn’t buying it. Meow.
Here we see the downside of dieting. No… that joke wasn’t funny. I can’t come up with anything even remotely funny to add to this image. Well, at least I hope that I look this good when I’m a zillion years old and an extinct fossil.
This photo shows why I could never have been a Mercury Astronaut. I am way too big to fit in that tiny little capsule. John Glenn must have been really small.
And there you have it. My goofily lame Museum of Science recap post.
Feeling a little musically nostalgic for Boston in the 90’s. Pardon the youtube flood.
Gigolo Aunts. I never actually saw this line up. Once at Christmas I saw the Phil Hurley sit in with them while this drummer was in the crowd. That was one of the best shows I’ve ever seen by any band ever.
Jack Frosting. They weren’t around for terribly long, but we thought they were seriously cool.
Betwixt. Same guitarist as Jack Frosting (same drummer too, I think), but add in a lead cello. Possibly the weirdest awesome band ever.
Kustomized. The Drummer from Mission of Burma and the Volcano Suns comes up front. Also… extremely goofy video. I had never seen this one before. It was the 1990’s after all.
Smackmelon. This band should have ruled the universe. No kidding. Only a couple of records. Unbelievable awesomeness. I never got to see them live. When they announced their final show I really wanted to go, but I had a gig of my own at a Halloween party my boss was throwing. Mike on bass, my brother on drums, and me on guitar and vocals. We played a bunch of our own songs that Mike and I had been playing off and on for years. No one was impressed. I bet Smackmelon was wicked that night. I’ve never seen this video before, but I seriously think this is one of the best songs in the entire universe, known or otherwise. Spaceshot.
Buffalo Tom. There’s really no reason why these guys weren’t disgustingly huge. They had the songs. One perfect song after another. I consider it a cultural injustice that their Let Me Come Over record wasn’t a 10 million seller.
Letters to Cleo. Again, how were these guys not a household name? Cleo shows became events for us. Not to be missed. Perfect. Over and over again. Perfect.
The Dambuilders. Kinda sad that I can’t seem to find any live videos. I’ve never seen this one, and also never heard this radio edit. Eff-bomb free rock and roll for the kiddies. This band was incredible live. We saw them in the middle of Mass ave once. The one show that I remember most was actually kind of a bomb. They were playing a bunch of songs from what would be the last record. It was the first time I, and probably many others in the room, heard them and the reaction was not all that positive. It was at TT’s. I can remember the band members giving what I thought were “oh shit” looks back and forth, although I might have imagined that. When they got to the end they did a few older songs and it was the usual awesome. Fast forward a couple of months and they played the Middle East Downstairs. 3/4 of the band were living in New York by then (I think, it’s been a while and I might have heard the wrong stories) so they weren’t playing out much. That night though, all of those new songs were played with a ferocity I couldn’t believe. It was like a redemption. Of course, this could all have been in my head, but they were so good that night it was scary. They were also louder than I’ve ever heard any band indoors. Even with really good ear plugs I had to move to the back of the room. It was unbelievably loud. Also, unbelievably awesome. I think that may too have been the last time I saw them. Shame, they were fantastic.
Throwing Muses. No explanation needed. For my fanboydom they are second only to the holy triumvirate known as Rush.
Throwing Muses get two videos because song perfection. Also because both of these are from the 80’s which I wasn’t going to do, but perfect songs. So, yeah…
Pixies. I believe there is a state law that declares if you share Throwing Muses videos on a blog you are obligated to follow up with at least one from The Pixies. I want Lizardfish to play this song.
Big Dipper. Well… this is also from the 80’s, but the Gigolo Aunts covered this song in the 90’s… so if you squint a little it works.
Mission of Burma. I didn’t see them until 2001 and this video is from 1979 so I guess the whole 90’s theme is down the tubes, huh?
I guess I’ll stop now before I go off topic again.
It’s a sad night for Boston area music. Tonight is the last night we will have TT the Bears in Cambridge. So many nights watching so many great shows. Talk about your first rate downer.
(I didn’t start bringing a camera to shows until well after rock clubs stopped being a regular thing for me. I only have pics from two trips to TT’s, one with Kay Hanley on January 3, 2007, and one with Cordelia’s Dad, two days later on January 5, 2007. Had I owned a digital camera as far back as 1995 or so, there would probably been hundreds more to share today.)
Fare the well, oh TT the Bears. You will be sorely missed. Thanks for the memories.
Inside the Red Head's Head 