Weasel
Fest 1997
I hate to
admit it, but this year's NY Intel Music
Festival (July 16-19) kicked the crap out of
last year's Mac Fest. By strategically
planning each evening's agenda (learned my
lesson ) I saw the best collective group of
bands of any festival I've attended -
completely missing the bands that sucked,
while repeatedly getting fed for free. Here's
a peak inside my diary for that week:
Wednesday
7 PM - CB's
Gallery, Reception (read: Free flowing
alcohol and rad buffet) hosted by Columbia
records. Unfortunately, I have to duck out
before the entertainment begins (Ric Ocasek
and piano chanteuse/goddess, Chantal
Kreviazuk were two of the scheduled
performers) because my priorities lay further
uptown: The Frogs are playing at Coney Island
High. I must see them or die trying.
9:15 PM -
Buzzed from three vodka and cranberries, I
dash over to Coney, arriving one song into
the set of the Interpreters, freshly back
from recording the first record in England.
These guys rock hard, make good jokes and,
boy, are they cute. Between acts (Next up:
Perfect, featuring the much lauded Tommy
Stinson, formerly of the Replacements), I
have a close encounter with George Tabb and a
little short guy introduced to me as
Adam...who turns out to be Adam Heimlich.
This is the same week Heimlich publicly
trashes one of the magazines I write for in
his column for that other weekly. Oh Adam, if
only you'd use your powers for good instead
of evil. Frogs come on at 1 AM. I stay until
Jimmy Flemion sings a bit from Jewel's
"I'm Sensitive" and my eyes start
to water from the cigarette smoke. Heard
Sebastian Bach made a guest appearance after
I left. Fuck my day job.
Thursday
7:00 PM -
Dinner with a bunch of Columbia publicists
and a bunch of rock critics. I pray that I
don't drink too much and say something
stupid. The food is amazing. Stabbing
Westward's LA publicist offers to introduce
me to the band when I'm in LA and a guy from
the NY office promises to send me the Toad
The Wet Sprocket CD I've been begging for
three months if I can remember to call him
the next day. He doesn't even ask me to
review it. Press dinners just rule.
8:45 PM -
Arrive at Irving Plaza for Our Lady Peace.
Sit in VIP section next to cutest rock critic
I can find. OLP are a pretty rockin' band who
remind me of The Verve Pipe for their
progressive psychedelic properties.
Headlining are Better Than Ezra. BTE make
great CDs, but live they put me to sleep real
fast. One of life's mysteries I guess. Pick
up a free copy of SPIN (the price was right).
Get to bed early. Rock on.
Friday
9:00 PM -
Brownies is the place to be for an early set
by Hoarse, a great band with a bit of a
rockabilly thing going on but not enough to
turn me off. Bump into the elusive Mark
Hennessy, tattooed singer/sex symbol of the
late great band, Paw. Hug Mark
"Hello" as an excuse to feel him
up.
10:30 ish -
Coney has Big Deal Records night going on
upstairs with about a gazillion of their
bands, and I'm there. Splitsville are the
most interesting of the bunch, being lead by
a pair of identical twins who call themselves
"Messiah" and "Johnny."
Besides playing some intensely fucked up
(i.e. 'Good') pop music that makes me feel
like I'm on acid, these guys publish You Sank
My Battleship, the most righteous zine in the
universe. I smoke a joint and have to walk
around to keep from hallucinating. Run into a
writer I know who introduces me to his new
pal, Sasha. It turns out that Sasha and I
write for the same Florida based magazine and
I end up being her idol (Oh my god, You're
The Gail Worley!?). She tells me I'm the
bomb. I feel really, really stoned. Spot Joe
"Punk Rock Viking" Reineke,
formerly of the Meices, across the room and
we do the slo-mo reunion embrace. Joe's in
town with his new band, Alien Crime Syndicate
(featuring ex-members of NY Loose). Too bad I
missed them. We all go Downstairs to check
out Foetus, possibly the best band ever to
see stoned.
Saturday
7:00 PM - I
skip some assorted shows and opt to have
Dinner with an Ex, thus continuing the free
food theme.
9:00 PM - I'm
on time for the show of the week: Firewater
and Girls Against Boys at the Mercury Lounge.
Opening band, Verbena, is managed by the
Editor of a magazine down south that I've
been trying to get into and I manage to find
and schmooze with him before the band take
the stage. Verbena rock in a nondescript way.
They're from Alabama; Go figure. Firewater,
who I always miss because their shows sell
out in like 2 seconds, do their inimitable
tango/arabesque jam thing. They do it well.
And Girls Against Boys are so hot, they're
positively evil. I worship their darkness.
One can only
hope that CMJ will go so well.
Gail's Dating Tips
I've decided
to continue my service to womankind and keep
the dating tips coming due to overwhelming
demand. Thanks to everyone who sent in those
cards and letters.
This month I'm
gonna give you the basic straight dope on
relationships: Trust your instincts. Many
women spend too much time complaining about
their boyfriend's unacceptable behavior and
lack of attentiveness, and not enough time
talking about how much they rock. I've been
in this boat myself and, with the 20/20
hindsight I've acquired, I can tell you: If
he looks like a creep, walks like a creep and
talks like a creep - he's a creep. Women need
to remember the mantra of the goddess:
"I deserve the best." Creeps should
be given no quarter. If a guy is evasive and
doesn't call when he says he will, he's
seeing other people. If he breaks dates with
you more than once and for no good reason,
he's lost interest. If he refuses to give you
a back rub when you ask nicely, he's just a
pig. I mean, what kind of cretin refuses to
rub his lovers' back anyway? Dump that loser!
As Madonna said "Second best is never
enough/You'd do much better, baby, on your
own."
Next month: Looks
aren't everything
Previous turns
of The Worley Gig:
The
Worley Gig #1--
Summer, The Rules
The
Worley Gig #2-- All Tomorrow's Parties
