After that to Goodwill, buy badly needed work shoes and a 99 cent old answering machine – thinking it might play my old micro tapes. Doesn’t work, but oddly enough, in desperation I try my old microplayer again, and two years after it last worked, today it miraculously does again! Kick ass! I can now transcribe some of those old tapes before it’s too late.
Record some vocals on computer, too, and mix down one song, burn to disc track by track, then delete the files to free up memory on there.
Then it’s time to assemble the troops for our big outing to Marshall’s, for Shauna’s 21st birthday. Our lives sure have taken some weird twists and turns, and this year is already shaping up as possibly one of the strangest ever. Seemingly at a time where things were kind of winding down (I mean, I’m living in freaking Hilliard these days, to cite just my own example), which makes it doubly odd. For example in the early going, our group at the outset is Shauna, Norman, Jay Taylor, Hostetler, Kyle, Amy, Elissa, me…but also this one peculiar middle aged couple who shop at our store. Somebody invited them, I’m not sure who. The other 8 of us are all Wild Oats employees, these are Wild Oats shoppers. But it’s cool, we pull together some chairs and tables for this huge conglomeration in the middle of the room, game on. That hot new Buckcherry song, Crazy Bitch, is spewing forth from the jukebox. Apart from that one couple, our troop is four dudes in their thirties…Kyle, the “young lad” here in his mid-late twenties…and then three chicks who are all exactly 21. At the age of 19, Shauna was my roommate, then began hooking up with a friend of mine (Norman). These other two girls are much more recent, ahem, additions to the entourage.
Hilariously enough, Tim just happens to be wandering around here for some strange reason. He had no idea any of this was going on, is literally meandering about the bar aimlessly. “Every time I come here I see someone I know,” he mumbles and pulls up a chair next to me. Then as we seem to be the only two actually listening to Shauna’s stories, she gets up, sits in between us now. Doing a good job pacing herself, though, I must say, which is difficult for most folks on their 21st, and definitely a struggle for most chicks on their 21st.
Tiffany shows up, then Jim Marshall, Suzie. We pull up a third section to add to our table. Tim’s telling me he quit Bob The Fish Guy and is now repairing bicycles at this mom & pop shop in Westerville. Fitting because he’s not driving these days and is instead riding a bicycle everywhere himself. Jay buys Shauna some minty shot, not knowing that she’s actually allergic to mint. He is the first person to leave, too.
Elissa is desperate for my attention. Tonight she tells me the same thing Amber G. said when I was dating her, almost verbatim, in that I remind her of a “little boy.” But the funniest aspect about that, or should we say one of the funniest, is that while possibly possessing somewhat of a baby face and definitely youthful with my energy at this age, I feel like I’m actually pretty decent at playing these girls at this point. It just seems like there’s no way some of us guys cannot have the upper hand with a lot of these females, and certainly younger females, at his stage in the game, after the past 10-12-14 years of…man, I’m not even sure what you would call it, but it’s certainly been an epically wild ride, somewhat all over the map, but a definite learning experience. You’re almost on autopilot at this point, if you choose to be.
For example, I fall into this off the wall conundrum. I know by now that ignoring Elissa to some extent, and treating her somewhat dismissively, is the paradoxical best way to keep her around. But then you tell yourself, well, no, I actually like this one, I should treat her better. Except THEN there’s actually another level above that where you almost have to tell yourself, and force yourself to stick to it, of, okay then but if you do actually like this girl quite a bit, and want her to stick around…then the best way to accomplish that, nonetheless, is to…ignore her, and treat her somewhat dismissively. Or you can be nice, watch her scamper away, kick yourself for being an idiot and not doing what you actually knew would work and wanted to do on top of it, anyway, all because you were on some big nobility kick or something. This is the minefield you’re negotiating right now as a guy.
At least until the drinks start a-flowin’, at which point it maybe doesn’t matter as much. But then let’s look at things from her point of view, or maybe what we should say I feel like must be going through these girls’ heads, at least on the oddball occasions where they are actually maybe into me, and are picking up on what I’m throwing down. It must run something like this: okay, he’s distant and kind of a smartass, but he’s not actually a mean personwith any of this stuff. He’s got some wacky theories on life, yet at the same time seems to possess some peculiar confidence in them anyway, like he believes he knows what he’s talking about. I mean, Elissa did after all tell me one night here recently, “there’s no reason I would ever say, wow, this Jason guy’s an asshole,” when I was explaining others were often not quite so amused by my antics. Beyond that, she’s already worried she might not have anywhere else to stay after fighting with her roommate last night. Is a chick in this situation going to waste her time with, like, some normal, nervous acting but really nice guy who is jumping through the proper hoops and timelines and so on of trying to be serious and date her? Or would they prefer some dude who, even if a weirdo, does appear to have his life together and tends to muddle forward with a kind of unflappable shrug no matter how chaotic things become? Well, whatever the case, this is my take on everything. Plus one other additional consideration: is this somebody you would want to get serious about, anyway? So that’s why I tend to think being distant is typically not an issue.
Tim and I are discussing Sequoia Lanes, Capri Lanes. Elissa chimes in, then somehow this morphs into a discussion of “crustache rock” as she calls it. She’s brought with her of course her cute little backpack with the red strap and the buttons pinned everywhere.
Come to think of it, this must have been before Jim Marshall even showed up. Elissa tells me, “Amy says you look like Steve Buscemi, but I disagree.”
“That’s good. I mean I know my teeth are fucked up, but come on,” I joke.
Anyway, Chris, Tiffany, Shauna, and Amy are all outside, smoking a joint. Amy is wearing this red dress with heavy material, like denim, with a button up blouse part, short skirt, but vaguely I must admit cottage cheese thighs. Shauna calls Jim, to try and talk him into joining us, and Amy slurs, “if Jim comes here, tell him I’ll fuck him!” into the phone.
“He was there about a minute and a half later,” I will joke, after the fact, “his tires were still smokin when we left the bar.”
So soon enough, they’re all over each other. Jim has shown up in this thinly vertically striped, blue and white, button up shirt, in other words his classic attire. The middle aged couple split, and so does Tim – it turns out he’s actually driving his boss’s van for some reason tonight. Tiffany has the right idea, too: a couple of drinks and then bye-bye. Shauna’s wearing a black sleeveless dress, low cut neckline and cleavage. Suzie a black sleeveless blouse also, looking sharp, but no cleavage.
Funny, the first time I ever saw her, I thought, “now there’s a chick that’s right up my alley,” without any specific explanation why. Tonight’s the first time we’ve actually spoken, but I think I was right, maybe subconsciously picking up on something (then again it ties into these massive rivers of water under the bridge I was alluding to earlier).
Forgot to mention that also much earlier, before Jim showed up, Amy was reading an Other Paper at our table, and I said, “don’t read at the bar – that’s lame,” and threw it across the room. Totally unfazed, she reaches down and pulls a book from her own backpack, holds it aloft with both hands like one of the girls from The Price Is Right.
“The Sun Also Rises?” she says, and I nod approvingly.
-Elissa (to me): You’ve got a great laugh. It reminds me of my uncle (Tim) (not our friend Tim who is here) (this is actually the second time she’s told me this, but she doesn’t remember).
By now we’re progressing to the middle-later stages of our outing. She comes over and plops down in an effort to disrupt my conversation with others. Flips me off, other standard shenanigans, and so on.
-And this is all before Shauna’s whole Xenos crowd shows up – fellow practitioners of her somewhat controversial religion. This seems to me as the moment where matters escalate into exponentially even greater weirdness (but not necessarily wildness), somehow. I remember there’s a black chick (cute!), and Elizabeth (Shauna’s current roommate, with brown hair and preternaturally, possibly fake, blue eyes), some John guy (curly red hair, extremely talkative) from the Xenos crew. Meanwhile Pitt is here now too and trying to work his magic with the black chick. I’m locked into an extensive conversation with Suzie – telling her about my writing, some nonsense estimating I make “sixteen” bucks an hour, just total gibberish. It doesn’t matter provided you stay in character and just keep going.
It’s all meaningless, up to a point. She does throw me for a loop, though, asking why I don’t hook up with Amy, who plainly appears ripe for the plucking. But I say no, “I gotta be good to my girl.”
Then there’s another moment where she, Jim, Chris, and I are having a highly involved discussion about our collective war stories. One extremely peculiar tragedy those two guys share is that they have both been shot at and lived to tell the tale – as in not just shot at, but the bullets actually hit them. For Jim it’s still lodged in the small of his back, and he shows us his wound; Hostetler of course was attacked by some stranger at a park when he was five, and still walks with a limp. “I would’ve died if it went out the other side,” he says, as it’s resting to this day against his spinal column. When it comes to my history I’m estimating, “I know I’ve used up 4 of my 9 lives,” with reference to two serious car wrecks, this time that idiot at Jamie’s apartment was playing with a gun and it went off (everyone says it missed my head by about an inch) and then also at least possibly the strangest occurrence, if not necessarily the closest brush with death, of having survived a plane crash.
“I work for NewsCenter,” Suzie marvels, “I’m surprised I never heard about it.” (I have no idea what this is, am merely guessing at the spelling/styling).
“Check the London paper, early March 2001,” I tell her.
-Jim insists upon buying himself, Chris, and me this “oil slick” shot: it’s 151 and Jager. Never heard of such, but it is about as nasty as it sounds. Hostetler slugs his, while I sip mine, feel like I’m obligated to at least finish it.
-Shauna goes outside and forces herself to stick her finger down her throat and puke up some of the alcohol. I know a lot of the guys consider her annoying, that she tells outrageous tales sometimes, but I don’t care what anyone says or how much they bitch about her – I think she’s a pretty cool person, overall.
-Kyle’s trying to rustle an afterhours coalition. But no. It’s time for most of us to get out of here.
-one guy I know pissed in someone else’s bed tonight, though, at said afterhours. I’ll be a real chum and omit his name. It sounds like some of us made the right call in skipping this puppy, however.
-then again I’m saying that despite, never mind my “early” exit, getting up just a handful of hours later and calling off at Target anyway.
Epilogue: I seem to recall writing about other 21st birthdays and/or similar occasions in the past, and that there used to be much more detail, a more coherent narrative. But I think those were the absurd outliers. It’s borderline insane to have even this much scattershot detail about a night such as this one, and after awhile you recognize that there is no overarching narrative to anything. It’s just a bunch of random, intersecting nonsense. By extension those other nights were freakish to the extreme, in holding together as some sort of actual story, with somewhat of a real semi-point. But endlessly fascinating, in any case, whatever way you wish to slice it.
In summary I would say this was a somewhat arbitrarily chosen, but fun and representative day, for this little sliver of our collective personal lives. It was also sunny, and warmer than expected, with temperatures topping out in the high 60s. But what else was happening around this fair city, on this date? It turns out there weren’t a ton of newsworthy developments, at least not that I’ve unearthed so far. Yet here are a few of the highlights:
Columbus Symphony Orchestra backs vocalist Barbara Cook at Palace Theatre. The CSO plays an instrumental first act of old standards, before Cook joins them onstage.
Comedian Kathy Griffin performs a 90 minute set at Southern Theatre, her first of two nights in town.
The OSU Medical Center emergency room treats 84 year old Leo LeVan for minor injuries, before releasing him – he was helicoptered in after a badly driven dump truck plowed into his living room.
Pitcher Aaron Small, making a rehab start for the Yankees, leads the Clippers to a 7-2 win over Louisville, at Cooper Stadium. Kevin Thompson keys the offense, with a 3 run homer in the 6th.
Harper are playing at Blues Station.
Park Street Tavern has an open stage jam with Jimmy McGee.
Andyman’s was such a crucial C-bus institution that it’s still shocking to me that it’s no longer around. You’d have thought at the very least that, like, some arts council would have come up with a grant or something, to keep it afloat, or maybe an executive order would have drifted across the governor’s desk at the 11th hour, demanding that it remain in operation – this place was seriously on that level, it seemed, in our minds and hearts.
Andyman’s sprang to life in the late 1990s when veteran bar manager/bartender Quinn Fallon agreed to join forces with his best friend, local DJ Andy “Andyman” Davis (of CD101 fame) in purchasing the place. At the time, this bar was a major dive named Hidden Cove, had changed hands often, wasn’t making any money. Fallon and Davis bought this place for a mere $30,000 or so, decorated it exactly as you might expect some indie and especially homegrown rock fanatics to do so, and flung this teensy door open wide. Let’s just say they struck gold with this whole treehouse concept, the loose, shambolic, ultra cozy aesthetic – it seriously felt like hanging out in your living room, or maybe more accurately a friend’s slightly spruced up, basement rec room – and booking a wide array of mostly local talent. It officially opened its doors to the public on May 26, 1999.
In many respects, it’s surprising that I haven’t created a page for the Treehouse until just now. After all, this eventually became such a predictable second home for me that I started getting personal phone calls here, during that whole era where I wouldn’t answer the landline at my actual home and refused to acquire a cell. Which became its own separate problem – the phone calls, that is, not the part about not having a cell.
But, although this site might seem like complete chaos, there is a certain strategy in place, as far as the order of topics I’m tackling. It’s just that this pattern would make no sense to anyone but me. And now is that time. Regarding that first phone call received here (hard to even accurately depict now, if you’re not of a certain age and weren’t around for that ancient epoch; many businesses probably don’t even have a dedicated phone, aside from the an owner/manager’s cell, and it’s even unlikelier still that you would call them nowadays asking if a certain customer was there), this was understandably an eye-opening moment. The bartender, Brandon, answering the ring behind that bar, then handing the phone off to me. This is when it first sinks in, okay, I guess I do spend quite a bit of time here…
Though I would eventually work the door a time or two (I think exactly twice, if memory serves), I was never an official employee in any way, shape, or form. At least in my experience, the bands themselves had to perform the dirty work of lining up their own doorman here, although you would be paid in some cash and unlimited beer for your services. And while I had been here a fair amount of occasions, would slide through a respectable amount afterwards, the real wheelhouse of my haunting these grounds would occur the three years where I owned a house in the same neighborhood, well within stumbling distance. Hilariously enough, if I’m not mistaken, however, that initial phone call of someone tracking me down here via clever detective work (my good friend Matt Montanya), that occurred before I moved over thisaway. Only after which, it’s safe to say, my attendance truly exploded.
But what made Andyman’s Treehouse so special? Well, for starters, to state the obvious, yes there is that tree. My stepdad is still talking about that tree, twenty years after I brought him here. On that occasion, he somehow wound up doing shots with Andyman, who apparently recognized me well enough at that point to tell my stepdad I was “a good kid.” One other side note is that Andyman’s wife worked in the customer service department at various Kroger stores around town, including for quite some time the same one as my ex-girlfriend Jill. So we got a little bit of intel about the inner workings of this place via that route as well.
That’s me on the far left in the photo above, from Halloween of 2005, in the long frilly blonde wig. I cobbled this outfit together in a last minute burst of inspiration and, just before leaving the house, decided it would be funnier to shave off every bit of my goatee except for the mustache – to date, the only night of my life I have ever rocked a solo ‘stache. The light’s hitting it kind of funny in this photo, but rest assured, it looked the same on the right as on the left, though quite clearly nowhere near as rad as the Thomas Magnum edition a couple spots down from me.
This window made for a popular photo op spot. In the 12/31/01 issue of The Other Paper, there’s a review of owner/bartender Quinn’s band X-Rated Cowboys and their debut CD, Honor Among Thieves, where they are posing on the other side of it, i.e. the small middle room with the pool table. I know enough about this place that I can tell you, just to the right of the dude who appears to be smoking in their group photo, there was some old movie poster hanging which had Norman Fell listed as one of the actors. And actually, there’s also an Early Empire article in one of those weeklies where they too pose in front of this window, albeit (if I recall correctly), on the side we assorted dorks are in this Halloween classic.
The main entrance, located on what was technically the backside of the building, basically poured in from the direction of whoever’s holding this ray gun. The photographer must have been more or less blocking the men’s room door. And the jukebox was located right beside Darth Vader here. As one might suppose, this puppy was stocked with an impressive arsenal of prime slabs, some obvious and others not so much. I can remember at least a couple specifics about it, like how on 2-3 separate occasions I tried to play Beck’s Lost Cause, but there was evidently some glitch and it would spin a totally different track instead. Which I forgot about until it happened again. Also, in the way it’s oddly majorly gratifying, like you were somehow personally involved with their creation or something, a night where I was somewhat aglow after picking out a handful of cuts, and different random people came up to me to rave about the choices. One of these I know was Jesus and Mary Chain’s Sometimes Always, which I’d never heard anyone else pick before, wasn’t even aware of anyone knowing much less liking this song…but would subsequently hear in here on a semi-regular basis, including a night where it was blaring when I entered the bar. Funny how that can almost make you feel like a band’s producer, or at least their publicist. If nothing else, it became a small sliver of the soundtrack.
But anyway. With this photo as again our reference point, to the left of me would be the bar. Behind us, you took a single step down into the pool room, and could continue more or less straight on out of it, to the obscured patio area which faced Chambers Road. To the left, also accessible and fanning out as a wide open space from the bar, a sort of living room-esque chill space with couches, an Elvis lamp, odd trinkets like these Kiss figurines with giant hands in a glass memorabilia case. Shooting off to the right of the pool room, meanwhile, a single step back up into the performance area, which also featured that infamous oak tree in the middle of the room, standing 3 and a half feet wide, tall enough to extend outside and tower over this local music mecca.
Sometimes, national acts would even grace the “stage” here, the most prominent of which that I can recall is possibly Cracker. More commonly, though, it was instead a secret handshake type place, which visiting musicians might attend on the down low, to hang and soak up some suds along with supremely homespun vibes. If you were lucky (ish)(maybe?), you might even rub elbows with them. Like for instance I remember some friends telling me Nash Kato of Urge Overkill was in here once, standing beside the bar in his ridiculously oversized shades, a scarf so long it touched the ground on both ends, basically acting like a pretentious dick. Also, in one interview I recall Quinn was guffawing about how Creed tried to book an afterhours party here once, when they were relatively new, and he declined – on the grounds that, as he explained it to Andyman later, they were “some assholes I’ve never heard of.” In between these two extremes, the local and the internationally famous, I might offer the example of Columbus Crew player Kyle Martino, who circa 2004 was just learning the guitar, and came here to polish up his act on open mic night.
If you were in search of the most pristine audio sound imaginable, then this was not your place. For example there was a night I brought some friends here and Paul Radick considered the sound so shitty he claimed he couldn’t even watch the otherwise decent band. And did not, as he dipped out to go sit on a couch instead. But, I don’t know, it wasn’t really that bad, and like the establishment as a whole, the vibe was tremendously warm. A little wooden rail even wrapped around that massive tree, in the middle of the room, for some extremely intimate seating options. Plus, if you were in here on a night where it was snowing, that giant hole cut through the ceiling meant the flakes would often be swirling around inside this space. Totally awesome. Basement-esque paneling in most of the rooms, if I recall correctly, and carpeted just about everywhere.
Andy was a big dude with an ever bigger personality, a person you basically couldn’t miss if he was anywhere inside this building – or any other, I’m sure. He would tragically die in a drowning accident, in the summer of 2010, at the age of just 42. Quinn, eh, I can see where others have found him maybe a bit smarmy, but all I can tell you is he was always cool to me, and I also thought he was quite hilarious. He would go on to, though protesting his bar-owning days were behind him, eventually open another music club years later, called Little Rock – it is now the permament home for that backdrop sign, from the Andyman’s performance area, the one with the earth image and all those signatures everywhere.
I don’t remember exactly when the bar closed. Davis and Fallon sold it in 2008, but it limped on for a while under new owners, I think as just “The Treehouse.” My last visit must have occurred in 2010, which would have been during that era, though I guess it’s telling that I couldn’t even say for sure what the place was called then. But when I research this matter online now, it seems that by early 2009, it had indeed dropped the “Andyman’s” portion of its name. And was just known as the Treehouse, then later, apparently, as the Tree Bar (complicating matters still further: even back when it was Andyman’s Treehouse, if you used your debit card here, it would show up on bank statements as simply TREEBAR) before giving up the ghost entirely.
I’m somewhat torn on whether to include the show dates and Youtube videos et cetera from 2009 onward, because it’s sort of the same thing, except not really. To me, it’s a completely different enterprise. You might stumble across videos as late as 2015 where these musicians are still saying they played “Andyman’s Treehouse,” and not to be a purist snob or whatever, but the two guys who began that who concept are long since out of the picture by that point. The bar might look the same, except it’s changed names once or twice by then, too, so no, you didn’t play Andyman’s.
Other businesses have since called 887 Chambers Road home, yet if I’m not mistaken, it is at present just an empty shell. The magic, I feel confident in saying, you will never reclaim here – but I wouldn’t exactly be opposed if some enterprising soul decided to open these doors again and give it another shot.
Click on the year below to jump ahead. Otherwise just keep a-scrollin’. By the way, when viewing this page myself for errors, occasionally the videos are showing up even to me as “not available.” As far as I can tell, this just means the page is taking a long time to load. It’s possible I am “breaking the internet,” so to speak, with these ridiculously long posts. But, eh, what can you do? I can’t think of any better way to organize things than this. So you can either wait for the page to load or maybe try to refresh or something. Or perhaps buy one of my books, in which case I might be able to afford an upgrade.
September 11 – Fred Haring and Dan Baird show (Baird, the former Georgia Satellites frontman, produced Haring’s forthcoming album); Andy Harrison, Watershed, Franklin County All-Stars, and Quinn Fallon also play.
October 29 – an Andyman-a-thon benefit for local children’s charities, this one features Lucid’s Dream, Fletch, Jamie Walker, Ron Arps, Born Digital, Jason Clayton, Elliot 12 Trees, Rod Paulette, Anna Paolucci, Bobby Cloyd, Jim Rico. Oh yeah and also Quinn dressed as Gene Simmons, playing a few Kiss numbers.
November 6 – The Stepford Five play and according to one band member (see comments below), he thinks they closed with an Afghan Whigs tune. Miranda Sound and The Vague play also.
December 15 – charity event featuring Keith Jenkins, Colin Gawel, Hope Vitellas, Jason Clayton, Quinn Fallon, and Jim Rico
December 16 – Benefit show on behalf of Columbus Coalition for the Homeless.
2000
January 15 – Willie Phoenix, Jason Clayton
January 29 – The Stepford Five. Billy Peake, Christian Hurd, and John Riccardi open
March 25 – Fletch
April 1 – At 4pm, Rhinocerous play a free show for bartender Chey’s birthday. Then there’s a later show called “Attention Deficit Disorder Night” featuring Quinn Fallon, Christian Hurd, Keith Jenkins, and Jason Clayton – the joke being that their sets only last one or two songs.
May 26 – Willie Phoenix plays again, this time in honor of his own birthday
June 9 – a second Attention Deficit Disorder Night. This time around, the musicians play two songs before leaving the stage, but there are approximately eight rounds of this (not sure how it worked the first time around). Chuck Oney, Joe Oestreich, Keith Jenkins, and Josh Kayser are the performers.
June 16 – Prevent Blindness Ohio Benefit with Billy Peake, John Riccardi, Christian Hurd, Rick Kissinger, Bobby Cloyd, Jon Chinn (of Pretty Mighty Mighty). Also each member of The Stepford Five doing one song solo.
August 29 – Acoustic Stonebyrd
September 8 – Sin-o-Matic play a loud show, at a time where this bar is still mostly known for acoustic nights. Wolfgang Parker opens.
October 23 – Andyman-a-thon show with local musicians dressed as their favorite rock stars, performing covers.
November 11 – another Andyman-a-thon. The first of the ’80s Power Ballad Nights. The Stepford Five play as a complete unit for the only time at one of these. Also features Billy Peake, Chuck Oney, Quinn Fallon, Wolfgang Parker, Bobby Cloyd, Rick Kissinger, and Rhonda Everitt.
November 30 – Mamontovas plays an acoustic set, followed by a normal one from Willie Phoenix
December 9 – latest Andyman-a-thon show, this one features The Vague, Watershed, X-Rated Cowboys, Jack Neat, Emperors of Bad Luck
2001
As of January 2001, Quantum Parker was here every Tuesday. Colin Gawel played every Wednesday from 7-11pm. Their Friday and Saturday night shows start at 10 and have a $2 cover charge.
January 5 – Columbusmusic.com’s Showcase Weekend kicks off at Andyman’s Tree House. Watershed, Detroit All-Stars, Scott Gorsuch, Jon Chinn and The Ryan Horns Band perform. Entry is just $5 at the door, for tonight and tomorrow each. According to Rob Harvilla of The Other Paper, Chinn played a straightforward but solid set, Watershed went over extremely well (crowd members sing along, keep time on beer bottles, etc) and Gorsuch rocked. Accompanied sometimes by second guitarist Andy Harrison, he blew through some originals and a Jeff Buckley cover in sloppy yet compelling fashion, beatboxed on one song, and in another instance had this dude in a black leather looking coat (can’t tell for sure, but this might actually be co-owner Quinn) hold up a lyric sheet. Then Joe Oestreich of Watershed returned for some reason to play a Cheap Trick cover (I’ll Be With You Tonight) before Gorsuch encored himself, playing his own tune Popular. Finally, Ryan Horns Band closed things out on a mellow note, strumming some decent but not especially memorable modern folk music.
January 6 – Showcase Weekend continues at Andyman’s. Fletch, Clayton Band, The X-Rated Cowboys, and John Morgan are tonight’s scheduled musicians. Harvilla’s Other Paper piece explains that tonight’s crowd is fuller and rowdier, though John Morgan kicks things off as if continuing the Ryan Horns Band vibe of last night – more of an old fashioned sound, albeit in this instance Morgan is ripping through his instumentals with incredible dexterity. He relates that Clayton delivered a credible rock set, replete with numerous guitar solos, and that X-Rated Cowboys (apparently just two guitarists and a drummer at this juncture) were a little shaky initially, though eventually settling into their standard crass groove. Finally, Fletch closed things out with a mighty set, expanded lineup and all, with her on acoustic and two more electric guitar players.
January 12 – Chris Mulvoy, Steve Poulton, and Angelo Palma
January 13 – “Fetch” is listed, although I suspect this may be a typo and was actually Fletch instead.
January 19 – Microphonics, Ukelele Man, and Fred Haring
January 20 – Delyn Christian
January 26 – Harold Chichester, Christian Hurd
January 27 – Billy Peake, Jon Chinn
April 13 – Jack Neat, to promote his Three Way CD coming out the same day.
April 19 – Tim Easton
June 1 – something called Leroy’s Dinner Theatre, which I guess can be described as some kind of variety show: bands Le Petit Hurlemonte and Apocalypso play, but then there’s also a spoken word performance by Julie Otten
June 22 – a night called “I Didn’t Get Invited To The Prom,” featuring five bands who applied to play Comfest, but were denied: Superstar Rookie, Salthorse, The Black Swans, Parker Paul, Ohioanna
October 11 – open stage with Jim Volk
October 12 – League Bowlers
October 13 – Good Kissers, The Randys
October 15 – Jamie Walker’s Keyboard Karnage
October 16 – Poophouse Reilly
October 25 – open stage with Jim Volk
October 27 – CD release party for Parker Paul’s Wingfoot, featuring him, Black Swans, and Christopher Forbes.
October 29 – Jamie Walker’s Keyboard Karnage
October 30 – Poophouse Reilly
October 31 – Colin Gawel
November 1 – open stage with Jim Volk
November 17 – an Andyman-a-thon benefit show, this one themed an “80s Power Ballad” night. Hosted by Keith Jenkins (Stepford Five) and featuring many other local musicians. This is the 2nd of three such planned events for the year.
December 8 – final Andyman-a-thon event of the year. This one is dubbed the “X-Mas Bash” and features Prison Tattoo, Aaron Pauley, Joe Oestreich, Aaron Pickering and Doug Beale (Johnson Brothers), Matt Surgeson and Josh Kayser (Jive Turkeys), Todd May, Jon Chinn, X- Rated Cowboys
December 15 – X-Rated Cowboys play a CD release party for their debut album, Honor Among Thieves. Fletch also peforms.
2002
January 12 – Ben London plays solo just a few hours after his similar show at Used Kids Records. Here, Pat Dull and the Media Whores and Salt Horse also perform.
February 6 – Adam Stokes
April 15 – Adam Marsland, The Vague
May 3 – The Stepford Five acoustic show. Also Twincam.
June 27 – Tim Easton and Kosher Spears
June 29 – just Tim Easton, no Kosher Spears
August 17 – John Mullins and the Citybillies
September 26 – Pee Wee Fist, Moviola
October 24 – Mark Eitzel, The Black Swans.
I wasn’t aware until reading Jerry Dannemiller’s review in the 10/26 Dispatch, though, that Eitzel used to live in Columbus. As far as the show itself, he relates that aside from early volume related troubles, it was mostly a success. I’ve Been A Mess is singled out as the emotional highlight, while later selections such as Theme Show For Any Song on the Discovery Channel were a bit more on the lighthearted and comedic side.
November 9 – another ’80s Power Ballad Night, this time with Rick Kissinger, Chuck Oney, BA Baracus, and The AquaNet All-Stars (Jamie and Ben from The Honeys, Mike Lovins from The Roomful, and Keith Jenkins).
December 21 – next installment of the ever popular Andyman-a-thon shows – leading up the actual stunt itself, which is his 48 continous hours on the air at CD101. All in the name of children’s charities as always. Manda & the Marbles, Scott Gorsuch, Pretty Mighty Mighty, X-Rated Cowboys, The Sun, The Jive Turkeys and The Johnson Brothers play this one.
2003
February 15 – The Caribbean
May 16 – Adrian Crowley, Milan Karcic, The Black Swans
May 23 – Moist Star CD release show
June 2 – Barn Burning, The Black Swans
July 18 – The Damnwells, Mrs. Children
August 16 – Audio Van Gogh
October 22 – Rosa Chance Well
Despite the poor recording quality, you can tell these guys are playing some decent jangle rock. Although even so, I have to admit the background footage of the pool room is nearly as interesting to me.
December 11 – Daryl
December 26 – Christine Costanzo
2004
January 3 – Compiler
March 13 – moveon.org voter fund benefit show. It’s a whole slew of solo performers from local bands on tap: Sue Harsche, Jake Housh, Ron House, Jerry DeCicca, Jerry Dannemiller, Ryan Horns, Chris Forbes, and Lou Poster.
April 6 – The Method And The Result, Dan Gerken, Billy Peake
May 1 – The Whiles, Trapper John, Miranda Sound
May 10 – Chris Brokaw, Hal Hixson, The Black Swans
May 22 – Cavendish
July 15 – Jack Rose, Christina Carter, Jerry DeCicca
September 17 – another moveon.org event, this one in support of the Democratic Party. Whether this is your political bag or not, the lineup is still mighty diverse and jam packed with talent: Columbus Power Squadron, Log Almighty Players, Catalpa Boys, Fort Recovery, 3 Amigos, Barry Hensley, Cassie Jacobs, Ricki C.
October 2 – The Black Swans, Moviola, Sword Heaven, Alwood Sisters
October 8 – AIDS benefit show featuring The Bygones, The Pleasure, The Hoodwinks, Bum Wealthy, Elliott 12 Trees, Olly, Paul Goll, Garnett and the Midnighters
October 29 – Halloween bash where attendees are encouraged to dress like dead rock stars. Admission is $7 and all proceeds benefit the Andyman-a-thon. As far as performers, we have The Black Swans, X-Rated Cowboys, Fletch, $3 Shirt, Ron Arps, BA Baracus, The Shatters, Trapper John, Glare
December 18 – ’80s Power Ballad Night featuring Keith Jenkins, Chuck Oney, Christian Hurd, the irrepressible Quinn Fallon, Jamie Walker, Billy Peake, Brian from Kopaz, Rick Kinzinger, Ian Hummel, and Jamie Cambpell. A CD101 Show For The Kids tying in with the Andyman-a-thon charity drive.
2005
The big city-wide indoor smoking ban goes into effect early this year. Andyman’s Treehouse sits in this weird zoning anomaly called Clinton Township, however, which means they are exempt – for now.
March 19 – Tupalev, Last Hotel, Box
April 8 – The Method & Result
May 5 – Miranda Sound, Tiara
May 6 – The Randys
May 7 – The Midnighters, Stella
May 27 – my buddy Travis Tyo arranges for me to work the door at tonight’s show. I’m paid $30 and all the beer I can drink.
June 22 – Hoy, Lori
July 9 – Nick Castro, The Black Swans, In Gowan Ring
July 14 – Christian Hurd, Keith Jenkins
August 13 – Unfinished Wood CD release show
August 16 – Slow Dazzle, Eric Metronome, Jordan O’Jordan
December 16 – Homeless Families Foundation Benefit show with Colin Gawel and Joe Oestreich of Watershed performing, as well as Joe Peppercorn, Bob Sauls, John Vincent, R.J. Cowdery
December 17 – the latest ’80s Power Ballad Night. This time around we have Keith Jenkins, Chuck Oney, Happy Chichester, Joe Oestreich, Poophouse Reilly, Rick Kinsinger, Evil D., Tom Boyer, Bullet Jones, and Jamie Campbell
December 31 – Trainwreck, which is Kyle Gass’s side project, is listed in one prominent directory. However according to the Dispatch, X-Rated Cowboys and Lab Rats play. Then a couple weeks later they have yet another different listing that mentions Cinema Eye and Lab Rats instead. Although I suppose it’s possible all of these things are true.
2006
January 7 – Coltrane Motion
January 15 – The WMDs
February 20 – Voxtrot
February 28 – Cola Coca Death Squad
March 6 – Mi and L’au, Jerry DeCicca
March 10 – The Black Swans
March 17 – Trapper John
March 18 – The Stepford Five, Jon Chinn, Autumn Under Echoes
April 6 – The Wells, Jason Quicksall, Chris McCoy and the Gospel
April 7 – Bullet Jones, The Doggers, Sarah Asher, Aaron Hibbs
April 8 – Early Empire CD release party
Tonight is the long awaited Early Empire CD release party. A five song EP titled Resolutions and a Gun, it’s the first thing they’ve put out, after 4 years together (and official releases from The Handshake and The Judas Cow are still nowhere in sight, even though they too have both been around since ‘02). Recorded it a long time ago, but money hassles and just general dicking around even after the thing was pressed have kept them from booking this until now. As among the first 15 people in the door, our $5 cover charges mean we get this CD for free – I had no idea, but gladly accept.
Slow at first, talking to Quinn about this article I read recently saying he and Andyman are trying to sell this Treehouse. “Yeah, I’ve been in this business pretty much my whole life – eighteen years – it’s time to try something else,” he says, mentions devoting more time to the X-Rated Cowboys, etc.
Tony Bair comes up and does fake boxing moves, which I match. “Hey, I heard you guys’ stuff, man, you gotta look up this one friend of mine, he goes by Nate Dominion!” Tony enthuses, “his stuff reminds me of yours, like really off the wall, you guys should get together. You can get his email off our MySpace page…..”
Copper asking me about my experience at the Anderson’s, says he couldn’t find the place, was thinking about applying. I tell him about the ultra-precise filets, ridiculous cutting list, etc. He’s mildly discouraged, but intrigued by the potential (top dollar, I tell him, for it is) pay. Talking about how he plays street hockey in the abandoned Big Bear warehouse lot on 3rd, tore up his hamstring, should have taken a few months off, but came back after a month and tore it up again.
Elissa’s wearing this puke green shirt tonight, okay, and when she showed up at the door earlier, she had this red backpack on. Except I didn’t know it was a backpack, not initially, all I could see was this diagonal red strap cutting across the front, which even has buttons all over it. Therefore…it seriously looked to me like a Girl Scouts outfit. “Okay, I want a box of Thin Mints, and two boxes of Do-Si-Dos,” I joke, as she punches me in the arm.
The reason she’s rockin’ the backpack tonight though is that she wanted to bring her new Hi-8 camera to the show. She’s walking around all night filming stuff, pregame footage, then the bands playing, et cetera. She and I are singing along with Thin Lizzy’s Jailbreak which somebody played on the jukebox. I think she’s totally awesome and am really into this now. The only downside is I know she slept with Ultimate Donnie over there in the deli, and I’ve heard rumors about Gold as well, but, eh, for some reason I just don’t care when it comes to her. I don’t know, our personalities just seem to click.
Her sidekick Amy meanwhile is admittedly dressed to the nines tonight; Crystal I feel like I bust on repeated occasions checking me out from across the room; talking to Carracher about the motorcycle he recently purchased, he’s sitting at the bar. On opening day, the Indians night game we all watched over at the Glass House (before rainout), everyone (Carracher not present) was sweating this purchase, saying it “was too much bike for him,” and worried because he tends to space out, they were saying. But I don’t know, he seems like about the most straight-laced no nonsense dude in the world to me, and is surely proud enough, confident enough talking about his bike at this moment.
Vena Cava are the opening act tonight. I saw them in ’98 at a Superstar Rookie show at Little Brothers, and remember being considerably unimpressed. I think in my journal I might even have said they were horrible. Tonight, as it turns out, just two of the four members are playing, though I don’t initially know this; I wander back about three songs into their set, and assume they’d suffered a gradual defection of other members.
Whatever the case, I find my attitude concerning this group, aftere all these years, instantly thrown overboard. Who knows, maybe had all four members been present, I wouldn’t have felt the same way. “The other two are on vacation in Florida,” the singer/guitarist explains, a guy I later introduce myself to, after the set, name Keith.
“Really?” the drummer says.
“Well, one of them is, the other one’s stuck closing a Borders bookstore tonight.”
Wearing some kind of archaic plaid sport coat over a white tee shirt, a vertically rectangular goatee spotted mostly with grey and the wildest yet most natural looking bedhead ever – which means it most likely is a genuine bedhead, not some look he’s affecting – Keith’s voice has this husky genuineness to it, and his guitar playing, while not the greatest on the planet, manages to wring out these terrific little passages now and then, from the whole less-is-more camp mostly during these moments, just a line picked out w/ the right kind of mournful effect on it. A cornucopia of effects pedals down by his feet, and most of their songs feature at least one extended, high energy jam, but the aforementioned bits are what impress me more than the latter.
“This means we can play songs we never get a chance to,” Keith adds, in reference to the missing members, “this one here goes waaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyy back, it’s one of the first ones I ever wrote.”
“How far back?” someone in the crowd questions.
Keith’s mouth flies open in a dismayed smile as he ventures, “‘88? ‘89? I don’t know, it was right around then, back when I was still living at my mom’s house.”
“So last year, then,” the drummer jokes.
Wearing a dapper tophat from roughly the same smoking-a-pipe-by-the-fireplace era as Keith’s sport coat, the drummer is nothing short of amazing, armed w/ a steady supply of perfect, original, impressively creative beats, without overplaying. My only complaint is that their songs are often structured as verse-chorus-verse-chorus-extended jam to the finish line, but that’s a minor one. Glad I had a chance to catch them again, here almost a decade later.
“You caught us in our infancy,” Keith laughs, when I track him down by the pool table later, explain my first experience.
“Same four guys?” I question.
“Yep, same four guys,” he says. A pretty nice dude – Travis and Chris were remarking earlier that they’d met him a bazillion times, and he was cool, but they felt bad because they could never remember his name.
Bumping into Tony Allman in the restroom: we both issue near simultaneous sarcastic, “well, well…..”s, and I add, “they’ll let just about anybody into this place, won’t they?”
The Pretty Weapons play second, and are a hard act to classify. Travis tells me beforehand they rock, but need a different singer (“he sounds like a bad Geddy Lee”), whereas Spain swears they’re heavy, but not good. Having watched them now myself, I’m not sure what to think. First off, the bass player does have about the most phenomenal sound I’ve ever heard in such a setting. I honestly had to leave the room at one point because I thought my kneecaps were going to melt. He’s playing some obviously heavy – literally, physically weight-wise – full bodied bass, and his amp has that logo of the little dude wearing, like, an ancient Roman battle helmet. Like a Stratego piece, whatever brand that is. And the guitarist and the drummer – they were a trio – could definitely play, but the songwriting surely needs more work. Like they’ll get on this cool groove, and sure, it takes chops to play it, but they ride out this same groove w/o any changes, and often no vocals, for sometimes up to two minute long stretches, and after awhile you start to figure – yeah, so what. I didn’t mind the vocals so much, actually, but thought the drum chair in particular could use an upgrade – Vena Cava’s was better, for instance.
Dan Bandman’s here w/ this cute brunette he just started dating, really nice. The story of how they met is odd and funny, which makes you think, as the old rule of thumb goes, they’ll stick around. He was buying a guitar off someone and she was the gopher, for whatever reason, bringing it to him at this coffee shop on behalf of the seller, and they hit it off, she stuck around, chatted, the rest is history.
“Good for Dan,” Spain tells me, “she’s gotta be better for him than that other nut he used to date, I hear she was a psycho.”
“Who, Kara?” I laugh.
“Yeah,” Spain nods.
Anyway, talking to Dan & his girl before the Pretty Weapons play, stage right on the other side of the tree. Leaving the room during my kneecap melting episode, I encounter Spain sitting at the bar. He’s told me, earlier, that Matt Miner is all about the Pretty Weapons, which doesn’t surprise me; now he wants to know what I think.
“Well, it’s like, they rock, but are they good? I don’t know. They get on these grooves and ride them forever, it’s like, big deal.”
“Exactly!”
“I wish Miner was here so I could debate him,” I lament.
“Matt Miner tries to come across as being into all this extreme music, but you’ll find he is actually really very conservative in what he listens to,” Spain says, which is funny, because Miner says the same thing to me about him almost verbatim. But Kevin has a point, talking about how Miner claims to be into total noise merchants like Sword Heaven but that he has a hard time believing Matt “gets home after a long day at work, and says to himself, hmm, I think I’ll throw on the Sword Heaven record to wind down to. I just can’t picture him sitting around actually listening to that stuff at home.”
Early Empire play a smoldering set, of course. Chris drunk and commiserating, before one song, that the Dispatch bought out Columbus Alive and are about three weeks away from completely overhauling that weekly, cheesing it out with a format change, et cetera. “Three weeks…three weeks…,” he says repeatedly, into the mic. Copper distressed because someone drew an arrow to him on the flyer above the men’s room urinal, with a caption that read, “fire this man.”
Chris telling me he’s had writer’s block for a year and asking me for advice. “You’ve got to find some way to break up your routines,” I tell him, “you know what really helps me, walk around the library aimlessly and don’t even pay attention to what section you’re in, then if some book catches your eye, whatever it is, pull it out and start reading it. It sounds crazy but it works.”
April 20 – Jonathan Hape, Eric Metronome
May 5 – Mark G. Turns
May 12 – Keith Jenkins and the Moving Parts, Jon Chinn, The 1803
June 23 – Semi-Precious Weapons
July 11 – Willie Phoenix
July 18 – Say Hi To Your Mom, Dirty on Purpose, The Polyatomic
July 21 – Early Empire farewell show
July 22 – Electric Grandmother, The Lindsay, and Greenlawn Abbey
July 23 – Tigersaw, This Is Smoke Signals, Matt Hubbard
September 8 – Los Caminos
September 21 – Yummy Fight, The Stragglers, Slim Red Soul
September 22 – Unkown, Matt Beckler, and Micah Schnabel
September 23 – Chris McCoy CD release event, with The Townsmen
September 26 – Willie Phoenix. Or else/also Ryan Cox, Josh from The Doggers? My notes are conflicting and confusing.
September 27 – open stage night
September 29 – Cracker, The Whiles. Admission was $15, possibly a record for this establishment.
October 5 – Richard Buckner and Doug Gillard, Joe Anderl & The Universal Walkers
October 27 – Halloween bash and benefit in support of the Andyman-a-thon charity drive. The Whiles, Fletch, Elliot 12 Trees, Jamie Campbell, Unit 1, Postcard, Teamtim, The Slang, Pretenders to the Throne, Hells Bells perform, which Andyman himself acting as MC throughout the night.
November 3 – Poop House Jug Band
December 9 – Shapes and Sizes, Eric Metronome, Joe Anderl. There’s at least a small clip of Metronome’s set:
December 16 – this year’s edition of the ’80s Power Ballad Night, to benefit CD101 for the Kids charities.
2007
January 26 – Mark G. Turns CD release(s) party to celebrate his dropping three albums on the same day: Just Like It Is, Stop Spraying Cologne and Perfume on Odor and Funk!!!, and Are You Aware? Can You Accept?
January 27 – Sarah Asher
An artsier approach with this clip, to say the least. But you know, I kind of like it – a lot of these other videos all tend to look the same. Whereas this individual seems to have just set an unfocused camera down and walked away. Plus, more importantly, it allows you to focus more on the actual music.
February 26 – Relay, Lymbyc Systym
March 1 – Little Brazil
March 11 – +/-
March 16 – The Mike McGraner Podcast is this cool series of videos that were filmed at Andyman’s. I’m not going to post all of them here, but this clip here should give you a good idea of what you’re in store for. Quinn Fallon, Nealbot, Twin Cam, and Bullet Jones perform on this particular night, though only those first two make it into this clip:
April 5 – Say Hi To Your Mom
May 1 – Zelazowa
May 4 – another Mark G. Turns CD release event! This time in support of The Message and Hearing Your Words
May 15 – Ole Soap
May 27 – Devilcake
July 6 – Lollipop Factory, Aether, Go Robot Go!, Postcard. Filmed as part of the Mike McGraner Podcast series. Some of Aether’s set was filmed, at least:
July 9 – Weird Paul. His set list is known and runs as follows:
What I’m Gonna Do to You Cold Drinks Pay for Your Tacos Quickly and Securely I Dropped My Almond Joy Bar Bowl Cut Robot Armor Acting Like Mel Torme I Got Drunk at Chuck E. Cheese Human Eye If You Choose Rock ‘n Roll More Time for MySpace Wine Coolers
August 17 – Willie Phoenix, Twin Cam (they have one member from Watershed) play Andyman’s Treehouse
October 21 – Adam Franklin (of Swervedriver fame) & Bolts of Melody, Heavy Mole
October 27 – Darynyck
November 13 – Eric Bachmann
November 15-17 : a unique offering in the form of a 3 night residency from Megan Palmer. Miss Molly opens on the 15th; Joe Kile, Luther Wright, and Chris Brown on the 16th; then Church of the Red Museum, Wright, and Brown again on the 17th.
January 4 – Steve Shank (AKA Timid Blue). Clearly the video footage is becoming a little more plentiful as the years progress. Although still mostly on handheld cams, and uploaded by fans rather than the bands promoting themselves.
And so it is we also have footage, thanks to one dedicated fan, of The Black Swans playing here on this same night:
And then also Megan Palmer – same night:
January 11 – Willie Phoenix, Ryan Cox
August 22 – Hawkline, The Vague, Adam Marsland
November 1 – Hammer Of The Frauds, which is apparently some thrown together Zeppelin cover band, but dressed in costumes for Halloween. Sean Sefcik, Dan Bell, Billy Peake and “Party Steve” Howell are the fearsome foursome involved. Captain Exploder also plays, but I think that’s a whole separate thing.
Glass House, as it came to be known over time, was a memorable and dare I say even legendary residence located at the corner of Mulford Avenue and McClain Road. Well, the house is still there, of course – it’s just that the people and circumstances which made it so remarkable, lending it that nickname which would even wind up making its way into places like Columbus Alive!, have long since gone away.
Among the unique features, at least during this time, were that it was a large house chopped into two separate units, and yet both shared the same basement. One had a Mulford address (1177) and the other McClain (977). Also, which is probably the ideal setup – considering the whole shared basement business – all the people living in both halves during this period in question knew one another prior to moving in here. You wouldn’t exactly want to roll the dice with some random dude having access to your half of this funky duplex, only for him to wind up as the next Dahmer or whatever.
But anyway. My first visit to this residence occurred during the New Year’s Eve transitioning from 2001 to 2002. I can’t quite recall the exact mix of roommates at this time, because for example Norman Flores hadn’t entered the picture over here yet, but the most “famous” lineup I would say eventually consisted of Chris Hostetler, Keith Spain, and Norman on the Mulford side, with Kevin Spain and assorted roomies or even flying solo on the McClain half. Whatever the precise mix of occupants at this point, though, I know Chris was living here, because he was the primary instigator and ringleader for a big New Year’s blowout at his pad. Which would become, if it wasn’t already prior to this, an annual ritual.
Speaking of annual rituals, Mad Dog 20/20 entered that hallowed realm itself on this very night, but only on New Year’s. We had all long since moved beyond our formative years drinking Mad Dog otherwise, which is what made it such a hilariously retro pick for the party. To be reprised every single year thereafter, by whatever crew I happened to show up with. On this initial occasion, it was Matt Montanya, Libby, Kevin Kasper (I don’t think Vanessa was with him for some reason), Kim, and me, riding together to the house, which had not yet been labeled Glass House. Libby and Kim had both eaten mushrooms prior to leaving for the bash. We stopped off at this convenience store on Kenny Road for some alcohol, which was when an already half drunk Kasper insisted with a mischievous snicker that we should totally show up with some Mad Dog, totally. Which is where the whole thing started.
Of course, by this stage in our lives, if you’re showing up with Mad Dog, you’re going to suffer some wild guffaws and eye rolls. It’s the equivalent of maybe rocking a bottle of Boone’s Farm wine or clutching cans of malt liquor or something as you roll up into the shindig. One year, by which point the MD 20/20 had long since become ingrained in our New Year’s culture, a bunch of us wasted no time in passing the bottle around the kitchen, instantly upon arrival. Scott Imsland declared, “you guys are fuckin stupid”…then proceeded to immediately reach out and snatch it from whoever was holding it, tilt his head back for a healthy slug himself.
Eh, so onto specifics. I actually don’t recall a ton about that maiden voyage into this precinct. Other than it was still years before I would get a cell phone and, this being an era where I was messing around with Lisa, I called her at some point from the kitchen landline phone, surrounded by mobs of people, only because I had promised to do so. But couldn’t stop laughing for whatever reason, which in one of the most baffling examples ever, made her ultra-paranoid mind leap to absurd conclusions. “Why are you laughing? Are you getting a blowjob?” she demanded. Which only served to make me laugh harder, in turn upping her paranoia. “You are, aren’t you!? You’re getting a blowjob right now!”
I’m like, “what!? What on earth would make you think that?” but she just kept going on and on, and therefore so did my laughter.
By the next year’s party, I had long since become a basic fixture here myself, and become that much more comfortable. Enough so to show up toting a film camera, snapping photos…and to also bring Miles with me as my lone guest. He was already quite blasted and this was the infamous New Year’s where, though not bringing up this topic at all prior to our arrival, somehow the instant we strolled onto this quite crowded scene, he got on this huge kick, practically shouting, “AW, DUDE, WHO’S GOT THE COKE!? ANYBODY GOT COKE?” in that notorious loud and chalky voice he gets when drunk. He went around from room to room, repeatedly, demanding this of its occupants. When everybody he encountered basically just shrugged and told him sorry about your luck, but no, Miles then eventually pivoted in most unexpected fashion indeed: by going through the kitchen cupboards until he found a big bag of totally normal white sugar. And chalking up lines of that on the countertop, snorting it instead.
Andy Lorenz holding on for dear life to Dan Bandman. Seeing this picture for the 1st time, Dan joked, “the most remarkable thing about it is I’m wearing a long sleeve shirt on one arm and a short sleeve shirt on the other.”
Word of Miles’s sugar snorting antics spread like wildfire, more so than actual drug usage ever would have. And as such this became a huge attraction, watching Miles continually vacuum up a line of Domino every so often – because, try as he might, he was unable to convince anyone else that they should join him. Despite, pinching his nose, his continual instance that, “DUDE, I’M SERIOUS, YOU GUYS SHOULD TRY IT! YOU CAN REALLY FEEL SOMETHIN!” and so on.
He wound up leaving at some point, but I crashed there that night. Then the next morning a handful of us were sitting around the living room, recapping the events, when Crystal said to me, “was that your friend?” regarding the already infamous sugar snorting fiend.
“Yes….,” I reluctantly admitted.
“What an ass,” she concluded with a disbelieving laugh.
I don’t think I ever really made an ass of myself at any of these, personally, although maybe it’s just that my bar for embarrassment is so high (or is it low? This is one of those euphemisms which somewhat confuses me). The closest you might argue I came, though, was one New Year’s where I worked two jobs, back to back, but had seriously eaten nothing all day, prior to coming here. Was kind of banking on there being some food here of some sort, but instead only encountered…this gigantic frosted red velvet cake, sitting on the dining room table.
After the long work day, no food, probably not much sleep the night before it’s safe to say, I was just completely spent. Therefore all I did was inhale a couple pieces of cake, drink actually very little, before effectively saying fuck this to myself. But not a word to anyone else, as I stealthily crawled behind the couch, in this gap I had spotted between it and the wall (don’t ask me how), and passed out for the night, I think before the ball even dropped. It seemed like an awesome hiding place. Yet I awakened the following morning to discover I was completely covered in red velvet cake – people had eventually spotted me there, then found it hilarious to drop little cake bombs from up above, chortle over how I wasn’t even responding.
Norman making a triumphant Glass House entrance.Me outside the house. I don’t think this was the red velvet cake night, but it may very well have been. I actually kind of like this picture, except of course MUST have something spilled all over my shirt – I suppose it’s too much to ask that I would ever take one totally normal photo, ever.
II.
Live music would of course become a staple here, too, in the basement. In addition to the show referenced above, I recall at least one other where Superstar Rookie played (I think) their only ever reunion set, some five years after disbanding. That was I believe the night Matt Montanya acted as between-band entertainment, as he got up on the mic and did his world famous, spot on Bill Cosby and Richard Pryor imitations, reciting many of their comedy bits verbatim, to the delight of the masses.
Naturally, in a sprawling house at least partially occupied by musicians, some tunes were recorded here as well. Including at least one full-length album I’m aware of, A Year At Mulford & McClain by Kevin Spain and Phil Minor. It’s a stunning, fully instrumental effort, somewhat of a departure – at least for Spain, from his work with The Judas Cow and others. You can listen to a solid chunk of it here, along with one video I made (on my own, but with their blessing) of my favorite track, Weave:
As you can see from the liner notes, this was fully recorded and mastered et cetera right here. The project has a tremendously warm and atmospheric sound to it. Unfortunately, for years now my disc has been so scratched up that it won’t play or rip the last three songs on the disc. And I’ve discussed this with Spain, but it appears that he doesn’t have any left in his possession, or at least can’t locate them if he does. He probably has those tracks somewhere in his files, but admits at this point he can’t remember what names they gave to which instrumentals, and isn’t fully confident exactly what these last three tunes are. So it remains an incomplete mystery. Copies were only ever handed out to some of his friends, so if any of you have one, by all means please let me know.
As the name would suggest, in August of 2018, a business catering to both local beer enthusiasts and the album revival crowd opened in Grandview Heights. And before you even enter this space, you’re aware that it’s going to look marvelous, if the exquisitely modern, untreated wood facade is any indication. Also, just to eliminate any doubt regarding what they offer here, static cling stickers running along the top and bottom of its plate glass window spell it out for you:
CRAFT BEER COUNTER – VINYL RECORD SHOP – SONGWRITERS RECORDING SUITE
Owner Troy Stacy is a barrel chested gent with a big blonde beard and condensed Buddy Holly glasses. And it certainly helps to learn that he seems like your average obsessive hobbyist/hipster nerd, i.e. basically into the same stuff most of the guys I know are. He also embraces the current entrepreneurial vibe by apparently running a one man show here in many respects, down to booking events, answering all the emails and presumably handling their social media as well.
Regarding the interior, the wooden floors and light grey walls lend a tastefully alluring appearance – as do the framed rock posters mounted everywhere and, more to the point, the racks of vinyl albums, the bar with its handful of – ahem – curated taps and matching high topped tables for sampling such. He’s even got a couple of couches in here, for those so inclined, some rock themed pinball machines.
Then there is the Songwriters Recording Suite, a separate, enclosed room with hanging guitars, drum kit, and some start of art recording gear. Gold records for a handful of famous albums also adorn these walls, in case a musician is in need of motivation.
When it comes to in-store performances here, though lacking a stage, Troy gets crafty himself both in rearranging furniture to accommodate, and in booking the shows themselves. One such example would the New Music Now Showcase, a three day event held from January 24-26, 2019. Though single show tickets were $18, demand for these was at a premium, with at least Friday that I know of being completely sold out. More than 900 bands auditioned to play at this mini-fest, with only a fraction of those making the cut. Here’s a rundown of the schedule for each night:
Thursday 1/24/19
Kyla Mainous
Ben Marshall
TATTAT
Walking In Circles
Blend
Friday 1/25/19
Bishop Battle
Brave The Sea
Project Phoenix
Trauma Illinois
Letters Of Transit
Saturday 1/26/19
The Biographer
MOSSOM
Crushing Gravity
A Decade Apart
Something Else
Not all of these outfits hail from Columbus, it’s worth mentioning, though as far as I can tell they are 100% Ohio based. Friday night will find Rhinegeist Brewing on hand “promoting” the event (dispensing product) and DaveMan from 610 WTVN doing a little live broadcast warm up show. Frank Harrison, though not officially listed on the bill, plays some background music on guitar to get the crowd in the mood. My buddy Matt Montanya is among the attendees, too, and has brought with him a clutch of CDs (maybe that will be the next mini-trend, who knows) to hand out to whomever seems interested.
Then at 7pm Bishop Battle, who is signed to Exquisite Noise Records, takes the stage playing what I guess you might term pop music with a bit of an edge. Though plagued at times by equipment malfunction from non-cooperative backing tracks, his vocals were nonetheless sharp and he was able to convey plenty of charisma.
Another cool thing to see is that this showcase is missing much of the competitiveness found at other, more “battle of the band” oriented events. Here for the most part the musicians seemed interested in meeting one another, making friends and networking. I suppose that their interest in this gig does indicate they too lean a bit more in the music geek direction than most, and that they are just digging the fact that an operation like Craft & Vinyl exists. Brave The Sea is possibly the most outgoing of tonight’s acts, and one of the members will tell me (sorry, I didn’t quite catch any names), “for us, it was a great way to connect with other bands and artists from the region,” which pretty much sums up the vibe.
For the musicians here, promoting themselves, while important, appears to have taken a backseat at the moment. Personally I think – which you can probably glean just from the minimal photos and video on this page – the whole enterprise has more of a big city art gallery vibe to it than anything else, which is really cool. This feels like a trendy showing in Manhattan or something, with a handful of hot local bands providing the soundtrack. It’s hard to picture Craft & Vinyl existing in Columbus, even in the Short North, say, five years ago, but here’s to hoping they last at least five more, and preferably much, much longer.
The house on 1795 Gerrard Avenue is where I like to think my 3rd act of life in Columbus really ramped up into gear. Or maybe the 4th act. At any rate, as a first time home owner, I was stoked on that level, but also in that it felt like a return to where I belonged, my favorite general region of the city. Before this, it seemed as though I would probably just continue moving farther and farther out, until winding up in the suburbs somewhere, married and living in a quiet subdivision. And possibly worse still – the horror! – I never even thought about it, never considered any other option at all. If I had, I probably would have thought it just what a person did in growing older, and why fight it.
So over time, I had lost contact with countless friends, living in such far flung, exotic locales as Upper Arlington, or out off of Morse Road. We might catch a crappy cover band every now and then, nearby, but I had completely lost the pulse of the music scene otherwise, not to mention what was happening downtown, on campus, or in my favorite neck of the woods, Grandview.
One of my favorite Jill pictures for some reasonsame couch in need of fumigation, after contact with Steve
It wasn’t a conscious decision to jump back into the fire, so to speak. Like many major overhauls, in retrospect I can see this was prompted, in a roundabout fashion, by things going south between me and some girl. But on the plus side, not being with her meant getting serious about this concept instead, meant taking on a second job, meant kind of thinking for the first time, once finances stabilized, that, hey, I can actually afford to buy a house if I want. Not to mention looking up many old friends for the first time in who knows how long. Next thing you knew I was actually looking at houses, and though driving around and checking out something like 20 in the space of a single day, with a realtor chosen only on the recommendation of a friend, I kept coming back to the first house we had walked through that morning…1795 Gerrard Avenue.
The idea was that I could rent out 2 of the 3 bedrooms if I wanted, and the basement as well, and break even or perhaps show a slight profit on the monthly payment. This would prove a hit or miss proposition, though I’m fortunate that in the extensive scroll of bill-paying roommates at that house (Damon, Matt, Brandon, Clif, Steve, Megan, Clif again), the good ones far outnumbered the duds. Living here would help me reconnect with the city, and reinvigorate my social life in a major way.
As expected, it also turned into party central. And as an unseen, never considered bonus, for some reason the basement in this place had insanely good acoustics for recording live music, in particular the drums. Vocals were a different animal at times, but you could put one crappy mic in the middle of the room and pick up all the instruments in remarkable balance, sounding crisp. And as I’ve said, the drums especially stood out in this setting, sounding much better than anywhere else I have experienced. As a result, this place did become somewhat of a hotbed for musical activity. Impromptu jams with an audience happened frequently, or, sometimes on a nightly basis for a week straight, we’d come home from the bar at 3am or whatever, hit RECORD and goof around to see what might happen. Here are some tracks which were recorded as live improvs in this spirit, entirely in that basement:
The basic rule of thumb with these is that whatever sounds like the hardest instrument to play, that was probably Matt. Whatever sounds like the easiest, that was definitely me. Other random people would fall in and out of the mix on a continual basis. We have a boatload of similar evidence in the can, and while the songs themselves are debatable, I do find the audio quality amazing at times, considering no work was done to them whatsoever.
When I move in, there’s this light grey Berber carpet everywhere, which was supposed to be stain resistant – mmm, not so much, at least not in our hands – yet really didn’t look that great from the outset. Then at some random cookout, this Bill character (pictured below), who was a maintenance man of sorts, said he would almost guarantee there were hardwood floors underneath this carpet. We peeled back a section and discovered he was right. Beautiful hardwood floors covered most of the house, but had been obscured by this ghastly carpet – which we began removing that very night.
living room at 1795 Gerrard Avenue
Random scenes from random cookout:
Dionne, Bill, Jenny. The latter appears to be asleep.handwritten roommate communique on back of envelope
The house was built in 1942 and clocks in at 1800 square feet. I only met the previous owners once, and even then it was really just one of them. There was some random, rainy afternoon where I was chilling out in the living room and heard a knock on the door, got up to go answer it. Was surprised to encounter a senior age woman on my porch, clutching this bound packet of papers – her husband remains behind the wheel of the car, in the driveway, though he and I exchange waves. She explains that they are the people I bought this home off of. As for these papers, these are the entire history of this place, an insane amount of material going back to even before it was built. While standing here, she even gives me a shorthand verbal rundown, about how this neighborhood was built for factory workers coming home from WWII. And then she walks back to their car, and they are gone.
I think about this encounter quite often, and am so glad I was home that day to accept this handoff of papers. Otherwise, who knows if I would have ever seen them? They might not have left them if I was not around, considering the rain. Whatever the case, it remains a touching encounter, and I’m forever grateful that they took the effort to stop by like this. I’ve flipped through this packet here and there throughout the years, and will at some point get around to uploading the highlights.
Stop Rewind Fast Forward: 1993. (click to view/read more)
Pick up a copy of my latest music history tome, concerning that iconic year! Among the shows covered are a Primus and Smashing Pumpkins, both held at Newport Music Hall. Also the Lollapalooza stop at nearby Buckeye Lake, where local band Scrawl was on the bill, and Cbus musician Foley played as a member of Arrested Development.
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