Cafe Bourbon Street

Though a local live music institution at this point, it’s kind of funny to look back and recall that Cafe Bourbon Street took considerable arm twisting before owner David Brown agreed to host a single show. Considering it was the guys from Superstar Rookie who finally convinced Brown to give it a shot, it therefore soon turned out that the bar and the band both were marking this as their first ever live show. At the time, understandably, Cafe Bourbon Street didn’t even have a proper stage.

Regarding the photo up top, I took that on an actual film camera (gasp!) back in 1998. The exterior still looks basically the same, with that dark blue awning, the name spelled out in white. I love the color composition on this shot, as it possesses a warmth you normally can’t get with your handy little smart phone, at least not without a filter. And it looked the same at the time, too, it hasn’t really faded much if any.

Chef Ninja X used to run the Taco Ninja business inside here, up through at least 2006. Was also drummer in something called Classical Ass. Cafe Ninja had homemade falafel. Other signature dishes are Big Bad Buddha’s Black Bean Hummus, Nunchuck Chimichanga, unfried pinto beans, shredded chicken. He liked to say, “your hunger has been assassinated by the Taco Ninja!” when serving you.

A line of mirrors, halfway up the north wall, has always lined the stage. They would string Christmas lights up and leave them well past the season, perhaps even year round. There for a while – I’m not sure if they still do this – musicians would get free Black Label beer on the nights they played. One other interesting tidbit is that my all-time favorite piece of bathroom graffiti was formerly located inside the men’s room here, a scribble on the stall which declared moustache + beard = face. And then demonstrated such with a drawing of just a moustache and a beard, which was indeed enough to suggest a full face. I’m not sure what inspired it, but found it so moving that we eventually used it as a name for one of our albums.

That was for one of my crappy little “bedroom” type home recording projects. Regarding real bands that have, you know, attempted to learn their instruments in earnest and rock out through the years, I will attempt listing every show I can find here, as well as whatever other history I can dig up on this establishment. Since this club remains a going concern, though, this is going to make for a daunting task, in that the meter is still running, so to speak, with live shows booked constantly. But you’ve got to start somewhere, so here’s what I’ve come up with so far.

Click the year in question to jump ahead – otherwise keep on reading…

2006

2007

2008

2025

II.

Our first visit here will transpire only a few weeks before this initial live show, during that summer of 1997. Dan Bandman rings up the house and talks to Alan, suggests we meet him at this place up the road called Café Bourbon Street. The two of us have never frequented this establishment, though it sits just a few blocks from our house. With its eyesore interior of tacky multicolored tile and walls painted so bright they nearly glow, the horseshoe shaped bar in the center is a point of refuge we scamper for and cling to, more so than usual. The bar stools represent a small chain of islands, ports against the storm of crass interior decoration. Of course we’re still left basking in an eerie hue of orange and green overhead lights, molding our faces into monstrous masks if we catch the wrong angle.

Dan is one of the good guys, among the cooler people I’ve ever met, a stout, dark haired, conscientious Jewish boy who’s loyal to his friends and kind to the casual stranger. When he smiles his face actually seems to shine, somehow. Our core group often remarks that he could and should probably be the fifth member of the inner circle. The only reason he isn’t, really, aside from possibly not having quite the same enthusiasm for our more off the wall stunts, is that his first passion has always been music, and he works relentlessly at it. Hence the instrumental demo cassette he’d played in our kitchen earlier this summer, featuring him and another friend, Travis Tyo, and a drummer we’re not familiar with by the name of Dave Copper. Now Dan tells me they’ve settled on the tentative moniker Superstar Rookie. I think it’s great and suits their sound like a well-oiled kick drum, but he is having second thoughts, at present considers it a mismatch.

The old man who runs this place is pacing around between this bar and the one next to it, Summit Station, a lesbian hangout. He oversees both through a door connecting these two disparate establishments, though he doesn’t seem to be doing much of anything at either.  Wondering how he’s going to pay the bills this month, maybe, judging from the sharp creases on his brow.

Slinging drinks here, while the owner paces around, is a sharp Asian fox by the name of Seresa. Seresa, it turns out, graduated from Clearfork, a country school district in the sticks about ten miles southeast of Mansfield. She smiles a lot and flits through each of the conversations taking place at her bar, which at this hour and day doesn’t amount to much. Her shiny silver blouse and tight black slacks accentuate a body I’m already a big fan of, that and everything else I’ve seen from this girl.

“You gotta watch her, though,” Dan cautions, “she’ll start you a tab and keep slapping drinks down in front of you when you’re not paying attention. Last time I was here she hit me with an eighteen dollar tab.”

Aside from the three of us, Dave Kemp’s sitting further down the bar, at one of the corners, next to another face I remember from high school, Tiffany Miller. Tonight Kemp’s already drunk and just as hilarious as ever, though he’s also apparently taken a serious turn with his music, and is now playing in a band called Secret Of Flight. As for Miss Miller she’s wearing a sleeveless black blouse with tattoos up both arms. She’s younger than the rest of us and I never really knew her, but don’t recall that she ever looked this incredible before. Elsewhere, across the bar from us sits a tall, lanky goon who resembles the bass player from Nirvana, with a couple teeth missing and messy black hair. He and the chick sitting next to him, representing the only other people in the bar right now besides Seresa and our Mansfield crew.

One of the perks hanging out with some fresh faces delivers, apart from the possibility of catching up on old times, is that it allows you to shake up your conversational game. With Alan, Damon and Paul, the four of us pretty much never talk about anything else but girls, alcohol, and classic rock music. That’s it. Entire weekends have been kept afloat without a single variation in this material. Seated at the bar tonight with Dan, however, we’re venturing into offbeat topics such as Beethoven, jazz, and the films of Kevin Smith, all of which are welcome diversions – although some of the old standbys aren’t necessarily verboten, either.

“You guys try that Pink Floyd/Wizard Of Oz thing?” Bandman asks us at one point.

“No,” I admit, having somehow become the mouthpiece for our party as Alan’s not saying much tonight, “we keep meaning to rent that movie, but I always forget.”

“My roommate Norman tried it,” Dan explains, and by this he means Norman Flores, yet another familiar face from our Mansfield days, “but he said it didn’t work. I don’t really see the connection anyway – The Wall and The Wizard Of Oz?”

“No!” I protest, laughing, “it’s not The Wall you’re supposed to use, it’s Dark Side of the Moon!”

“Dark Side?” Dan returns, intrigued, as if he’s just been afforded some amazing revelation. “Well, no wonder it didn’t work…I’m gonna call him right now actually…”

At this, he strolls over to this alcove where a working payphone awaits. I take this opportunity to have a look around at the rest of this fine enterprise. A piano along one wall, a jukebox next to it. A tiny raised platform in one corner utilized exclusively on karaoke night, as they’ve never had live music here in all the years that old man’s owned this tavern. By the door, this minuscule booth with a window serving a small selection of pub grub, though closed at present and the lights turned off.

Concerning the embargo on live music, Dan addresses this upon returning, when he explains that they’ve just about convinced the wearied owner here to host his first ever rock band. Naturally, that band would be Superstar Rookie. They wouldn’t fit on the stamp sized karaoke stage, obviously, but there’s no reason a handful of tables couldn’t be shoved aside in that vicinity, enough to cram in their gear. They’ve been practicing with a singer of late, Brandon Tuber, and are just about ready to play out. The owner isn’t sold yet on the concept but they’re convinced they can draw enough if persuading him.

2006

January 10, 2006: Early Empire is already three songs into their set when I arrive. They sound great as ever, though I can’t hear Tony’s guitar quite as well as I’d like from where I’m standing. They play three new songs, one of which, Medicine, has this really cool semi-jazzy breakdown in the middle, just Tony and Joel playing. Something different for those guys.

Norman, Taylor, Martha, Tim, Artie, Scott Smallwood are all here. $3 cover, small crowd. The second band is from Jersey, Scream Hello!, and despite the dumb name they are fucking awesome. The drummer has a beard and looks almost like he should be wearing a turban, but no, he’s white, and he is a complete animal. No lie, I think he might be the best drummer I’ve ever seen. Anywhere. He never overplays, even though he’s playing the hell out of the kit, and has all these terrific ideas. Keep in mind I’ve seen Neil Peart, and while Peart may technically be better, I’d rather have this dude in my band. The singer is this scholarly type, tall, dark haired, somewhat of a wisecracker but not too bad, he plays a red guitar the same as Eddie Vedder’s. Tall, bald, muscular bass player does a lot of the between song bantering, and the kid w/ big nose and long black hair headbangs, dances around while he plays. While Early Empire were playing, Dan and Martha were doing goofy dances as well, though Martha later explained to me these were “Heidi Palermo dances,” making fun of some night I guess the notorious band hag was out making a total ass of herself recently.

“This song is about a friend of mine who lived across the street when I was growing up,” the singer explains, “he was literally about 80 years older than me. I was 10 at the time, and he died. My parents tried to cover it up but that didn’t really work too well,” he laughs.

“Was it Bruce Springsteen?” someone from the crowd shouts.

“No, he’s still alive,” Taylor calls out.

“Yeah, unfortunately, he’s still alive,” Copper yells.

“Ooh. Hey now,” the singer grins.

“Must have seen the video for Tunnel of Love!” someone else in back speculates, as to why the old man kicked it.

-The Handshake play last, and new bass player aside (tall, older guy w/ receding hairline and beard) they only sound okay. Nonetheless I’m shaking Rob’s hand afterwards, as he’s leaving, telling him they sounded good. “That’s always nice to hear, anyway,” he laughs, putting their performance down.

-Dan tells me about this writing club he & a couple other guys are attempting to start

-Joel and Travis are talking about the Anthrax show tomorrow night. Travis about has a heart attack, acts like a robot, says, “does….not….compute…..” when I admit I actually like John Bush better than Joey Belladonna singing for those guys. Joel leaps to my defense, agreeing Sound of White Noise is a great album and they did some quality material w/ Bush.

-Tim is working for Bob the Fish Guy now, down at North Market. Says, “I need a new job.”

-Martha has gotten a job teaching down in Raleigh, she and Travis will move there in July.

-half assed string of Xmas lights, one string, spanning these two walls – a W with one extra ass cheek, so to speak. That’s it.

-Chris says after hours at their place; Tony and his girlfriend say they’re coming over, not sure who else.

March 9 – Man Man

August 25 – The Minor Leagues

October 13 – Grafton play a CD release show for their album Jumpstart Wire. Times New Viking, Guinea Worms, and The Patsys open.

October 14 – Earwig play a CD release show for their latest album Center of the Earth. Rosehips and The Proper Nouns open.

October 26 – Mission Man is in town to ply his wares.

2007

All shows start at 10pm unless listed otherwise, though bands generally don’t begin playing until 10:30ish. They would typically start loading in around maybe 8, through the front door, then chill a bit – no small concern considering the bar at this time had a policy of unlimited free PBR (canned) for musicians on the bill. A door guy would cost you $25 and sound man $50, however. Most shows cost a buck, but a popular touring act might bump it up a little. Circa ’07 they are also boasting a bigger stage, touchless paper towel dispensers in the restrooms and, according to their Myspace page, a “staff who despise bullshit.”

March 16 – a benefit for the lead singer of ? And The Mysterians, who had apparently suffered a recent house fire. Cheater Slicks headline, with Guinea Worms, The Patsys, and Magic City also playing.

March 17 – a “St. Pat’s Garage Rock Shindig” featuring The Beatdowns, The Gentleman Callers, and once again Magic City.

April 13 – Columbus Power Squadron, The Proper Nouns, The Libertines US

April 14 – The Main Street Gospel, Modena Vox

April 20 – Shellshag

May 25 – Wifey, Voluntary Mother Earth, The Sutra, German Castro. Was apparently quite a spectacle considering that J.R. Wifey, a member of that first band, is apologizing the next day on said Myspace page for their behavior: sorry if i yelled at anyone. hopefully we Wifey will play a show at Bourbon street and i will NOT make an asshole of myself.

May 28 – DJ Captain Lonesome is spinning soul, garage, and other types of albums. No cover, $1 tacos.

May 29 – Knockem Sockem Robots, Jacoti Sommes, Bitwise Operator, Nick Messer

July 10 – J Roddy Walston and The Business

July 21 – Shellshag

October 29 – Sonic Chicken 4

2008

Now they are touting $1 well drinks that rotate daily; also a happy hour special at Mr. Peepers Pizza where you stroll up to “Dave’s window” and order a cheese pizza for $3.50. A new and improved PA, as well as urinals that work! The classic Simpson’s Pinball Party game, video crack, and “the best goddamn juke in cowtown.” Oh yeah, and the staff still allegedly despises bullshit.

March 14 – The Helio Sequence

April 14 – American Music Club

June 3 – Mudhoney, surely the highest profile gig I’ve stumbled across here so far. As such, their set list is known:

The Money Will Roll Right In
Next Time
I’m Now
New Meaning
The Lucky Ones
Into the Drink
Suck You Dry
It Is Us
Inside Job
You Got It
Sweet Young Thing (Ain’t Sweet No More)
Touch Me I’m Sick

Cheater Slicks opened.

August 19 – Black Cobra, Weedeater

September 5 – Don Caballero

September 18 – Dan Melchior

October 3 – TsuShiMaMiRe, Jellyhearts

October 5 – The Antlers are listed in one events calendar, Excess Karaoke in another.

October 9 – an “Outer Sounds” show (whatever that means) featuring Russenorsk, Melty Melty, James & James, Blood On My Neck

October 10 – Rosehips, Sexes

October 11 – Royal Pines

October 15 – Hip Hop with So What Wednesdays

October 17 – Jerry Decicca & Matt Bauer

October 21 – The Anabolics

October 28 – Pale Young Gentlemen

October 31 – Sword Heaven

November 1 – Cotton Jackson, Ghost Writer, Swamp Witch

November 7 – Ugly Stick

November 8 – Black & Whites, Fey Gods

November 11 – HEALTH

November 13 – Penetrator

November 29 – Jeb Morris Betny, Country Death Rats, Couch Forts

December 15 – Times New Viking

December 19 – Mors Ontologica, Warhorse, Tree Of Fern, Time & Temperature

?

I have busted Dan Bandman’s chops (member of The Handshake) about this before, regarding a different flyer, but…it’s driving me (retroactively) nuts that a lot of these don’t state the year. I have a paper copy in my collection, yet don’t remember attending it, and doubt that I did. Guaranteed at least The Handshake portion was a good time had by all, though. Um…depending on which member(s) of Kopaz were involved, then I might have liked Jinx Palm as well. And presumably Life In Bed did not travel all the way from Pittsburgh to completely suck. But yeah, if you have a hot tip concerning the exact date, by all means hit me up!

2025

March 29 – KJ Valium

I spent most of this day, off and on, working on the very post you are reading now. Then was finally kicking back in front of the TV, much later (technically 3/30 by this point) and decided to pull up my Instagram account. The instant I did so, a message flashed on the screen, saying there was a live broadcast of some show at Cafe Bourbon Street in progress, if I cared to watch.

Anyone who knows me or for that matter has read much of my stuff might recognize that I could scarcely resist this bit of coincidental happenstance. Though often chalking up such occurrences to “randomness,” I believe the technical term is actually synchronicity – and yet whatever the case, am a huge fan of following these so-called rabbit holes or huge flashing signs to see where they will lead. It’s just really weird, because I’ve never done anything like this, and for that matter don’t even recall getting one of those notifications before concerning any account that I follow.

So I tune into this live show, which is already in progress. It’s a static camera, tilted to the left of where this one guy is playing. I can’t tell 100% what’s happening but he appears to just be playing records and occasionally screaming over them. The song in question sounds like someone singing something about I’m just trying to make a living, etc, and at times this KJ here shouts along with parts he either knows and/or likes, while at others screaming stuff not found in the song at all.

You can’t see any of the crowd from this angle, although I do occasionally catch the tiniest sliver of the right side of this one girl’s face, and an occasion or two where she’s holding up her phone to take a picture. But it does at least sound like a decent sized audience. Even so, and not to rip on this guy or anything, but according to the little “eyeball meter” up top on my screen, I am the only person tuning in for this broadcast the entire time I’m on here. Which I would clock at about a half hour or so.

I find this more interesting than anything else, as it has me thinking about how maybe some of these concepts have come full circle. Back in the late 90s and early 2000s, live venues and musicians were just dipping their toes into the water with stuff like this – single cameras mounted in a fixed location, left rolling, with the show broadcast live on the internet. Even the image quality in this instance I would have to imagine is probably not much different (and there are even a few brief buffering delays!) And so it would seem we have now seen this complete arc over the past 25-30 years: stuff like this went from total obscurity, to where it was only oddball cultish weirdos who would have been online watching live shows, and you might have realistically had just a single viewer; to where it kind of blew up into a mainstream phenomenon and people would have been flocking to this relatively novel trend; but then the current landscape, where we are maybe just so overly saturated with all these events happening all the time, everywhere, with people flung in every direction following them, that the audience is diluted to the point it’s reminiscent of that earlier internet vibe.

So it’s fascinating to think what the next major trend will be. Regarding tonight’s actual performance though, when the first song I’m watching ends, our guy here engages in a little audience banter. Someone in the crowd shouts that they love him, and he says he loves them, too. As if you probably couldn’t guess, I should mention that our performer is a shaggy haired white kid in a tee shirt, college aged from the looks of things – but it’s just dingy enough that I might be wrong about that.

“I’ve been drivin’ a lot,” he says at one point, and also offers other such disconnected tidbits as “I’m like, super autistic n’ stuff,” and, “I didn’t mean for things to be all silly n’ stuff…I’m a serious artist.”

The walls in here are black, as is the drop tile ceiling. They don’t have much of a light show beyond some swirling red, green, and blue circular patterns swirling around off to the right side of this performance area. A black light also beams directly down from overhead, onto this table, in front of him, that’s supporting much of his gear. Like a boombox I think I see there, and a keyboard or a synth, who knows what else. Directly in front, where it looks like a crowd could be gathered, nobody is, possibly because they do not wish to appear in this live feed. Beyond that, however, are a couple of open internal windows, which you can see people walking past every now and then, and even one girl with glasses and a face mask (possibly the one I could partially glimpse, though I’m not certain) pausing to lean into the window and watch for a handful of seconds.

I’m trying to figure out where these various pieces are all oriented in the room, but can’t match it to the furniture in my head, and am forced to conclude they must have remodeled since the last time I was in here. Which was admittedly eons ago. I also for example don’t recall this one giant decorative art piece painted on one wall, featuring a bunch of interlocking black and white geometric patterns, random, like triangles and parallelograms and so forth, with exactly one red circle I can see in the middle.

But back to the music. Up next, for the second selection, some other kid joins DJ Valium on stage. He kneels on the floor, facing this way, to bang on some kind of plinky percussion piece. While the main dude now shouts spiel into the mic – no other music to speak of during this stretch, just some windy sounding background noise piped in. Except then Valium switches to synth and begins cranking out a bunch of crazy sounding squeaks and squiggles.

There are some cool sounds on this one, though no actual “song” to speak of. And it does go on a bit too long for my tastes. For example this other keyboard part that follows, either programmed or taped I think, which drones on for an eternity. Having stopped, the percussion guy now starts back up atop the keyboard drone, which buys the ringleader time to get his gadgets set up just so for the next segment. In this instance it’s an unholy buzzsaw synth that overpowers and outlasts everything else. And then he is definitely messing around with the boombox now, as it sounds to be broadcasting some staticky radio station.

That was the 2nd to last song of their set, meaning I get to watch 3 total. The final one consists mainly just of an echoey, slowed down spin of this somewhat popular tune I remember, maybe ten years ago, about “…I wish I could…be like the cool kids…” which he’s just sort of singing along with sometimes.

In summary, though initially believing that this was going to suck – and actually wasn’t entirely sure he was even officially “playing” yet when I tuned in – I have to admit, this was better than expected. There were some mighty interesting ideas and sounds on display here. Having said that, I wouldn’t exactly be listening to this material every day or anything, in part due to the repetition and the excessive song length. But, you know, I would have to conclude that he is on the right track, if he can iron out these kinks.

When the song ends, some guy in blue jean coveralls runs on the stage and grabs the mic, announces that this “Sanctuary” event continues tomorrow and will be streaming live on Twitch. KJ Valium, or should I say most likely whoever was in charge of filming this, “waves” to me on Instagram, and then the broadcast ends.