A few months ago I was hanging out with my buddy Andrew and his girlfriend Laurence. We went out for a confit de canard, and then headed over to the Fleche D’Or to see a DJ set. Except that when we got there, the bouncer took one look at us and denied us entry. We were stupefied by his rejection and I’m still scarred by this incident.
About 17 years ago, I was standing in line at the Limelight in Manhattan, and when they let me in I couldn’t believe it. Equal and opposite reaction, I suppose.
Ironically, the day before yesterday, Bombazine Black received a last-minute invitation to play the opening slot last night at (wait for it) the Fleche D’Or. We were the first band on a four-band lineup. We went on at the very rock & roll hour of 8:15.
Yet again, the smoke machine went off while we were playing – in spite of the fact that Elli plead for its’ dismissal. The Frenchman insisted that it made the lights look pretty. It wasn’t nearly as bad as last time – to the point that I barely noticed, so I let it go.
For some reason the club decided to change exactly one word of the online bio that we submitted – “Austin” to “Montréal.” Not sure why someone would decide I was French-Canadian when I’m so obviously Franco-American, but maybe it has something to do with George W.
We played a good show, got a free meal (chicken with pasta), free drinks (whiskey and beer), and some pocket money (euros) – which we promptly blew on champagne. We’ve been invited back to play some shows in late April, which is great, considering that the Fleche D’Or is so cool that you might be denied entry for, say, being me. Or, alternatively, beating someone “to blood” – on site – as is the case with an acquaintance of mine named Florian.
My photographer friend Laurent Zylberman stopped by, but missed the set. He took this photo of us in the bar afterward. I recommend you check out his web site. He used to live in Real de Catorce, Mexico and we met via mutual friends who live en pueblo.
I have fooled a lot of people into thinking that I am a passable drummer. Including a Belgian fellow who happened by during our petanque match last weekend and a multi-million-selling Australian singer-songwriter whose name I cannot tell you.
In other music news, the French beat Edison to the phonograph. They now hold the title on records and films. But something tells me this little tid bit will go the way of the Thor Heyerdahl/Cheng Ho/Christopher Columbus debate. Revisionist history is such a pain in the ass.