When I received an email from Mike Skliar, a gentleman I know only from the newsgroup rec.music.dylan and as a contributor to a certain musical collection I'm {still} co-ordinating, saying that he'd be playing the Bitter End, I jumped at the chance.
To be honest, I really didn't care if the show sucked, it gave me an opportunity to duck out of work early (I work nights). I explained the situation to my immediate and nominal superior {really more of a lateral}, a bluesologist and Allman Bros. fanatic; he thought it was great, and hence I split, hoping to have enough time to find a parking spot within a half-hour's walking distance.
Which I blessedly did, and arrived at the club in time to catch the last few songs from the night's second act, Chain of Fools. They were a capable ensemble, a bluesrock lineup begging to be horndriven. They did a stalwart cover of CCR's "Who'll Stop the Rain", and finished with the eponymous "(Chain Chain Chain) Chain of Fools".
The performers this night were all associated with something called "The Studio", which is apparently a collective of musicians fortunate enough never to have become rich and famous. They're located somewhere on West 30th in Man-o-hattan. If I get the story straight, along with rehearsal space, there's a club there, with open mike on Saturday nights. If nothing else, sounds like a cheap date.
I hadn't been to the Bitter End in a long time; in fact it mightn't have been the Bitter End when I went there. Anyone who knows the other name of the club, email me: dudley@cloud9.net. First email will be rewarded with a prize.
In fact I wasn't sure I'd ever been to (Paul Colby's) Bitter End, but when I entered (after waiting several minutes in line), I knew the jernt. What looked to be the same red bricks in the wall behind the stage; the same red brick wall where I saw, among others, John Prine's back pinned. This was back when he was still the "new Bob Dylan", but not before he was the "only John Prine", which to my knowledge he still is.
The walls around the club are still festooned with the covers of albums that were recorded there live: The Compleat Tom Paxton, Randy Newman/Live, one by Arlo & one by Pete. The mural behind the bar says "We've all played here": Bob, Joni, Steveland, Bill & Woody.
And draft Bass Ale pints (american) at 5$US make for a cheap date, at least in NYC.
Mike & his 7-pc. electric band took the stage promptly at 8:40 for their 8:30 set. He opened, as promised, with a dylancover "(Just Like) Tom Thumb's Blues". Any qualms I had about the quality of the night quickly melted. Mike Skliar & the Liars are the definition of "tight", and their rendering of this dylansong was both respectful to the original and respectful to their own artistry.
They followed up with two midtempo rockers, original compositions "Can't Get My Mind Off of You" & a number I wasn't familiar with, but which is likely "8 Blocks Away".
Musicianship aside, Mike's strong suit is his lyric content, which occasionally leans to the poignant but more often displays a wry wit. This was exemplified in "Charlie Brown's Nightmare", which chronicles what happened to the characters from the revered comicstrip Peanuts after Charles Schultz's demise. After all, they all must be in their fifties by now. I was particularly concerned with Pigpen; apparently he was busted for possession. If you want to know more, buy the CD; email me for details.
During this song I began to pay closer attention, from my seat at the far end of the bar, to the rest of the band. There was a cat, George Singley, who was dropping science on musicology; his tool appeared to be a Fender Telecaster, but don't quote me. Ken Ficara played a harmonica that was a lot bigger than Bob's, and as I expected his playing was extraordinaire.
Holding down the bottom unobtrusively were Ira Nonkin on bass and Marty Yee banging on his drums all day. Much better than no bass and drums at all.
Thinking on it, the words tasty & tasteful come to mind when I think of the accompaniment to Mike's frontman work. & that's almost a criticism (about the only one I can come up with): The show was almost restrained; not "laidback" which can sometimes lead to somnia, but I think if we ever get to hear these cats let loose & rock out, we'll hope we grow old before we die.
Another Skliar composition "Or So I Thought", which utilises some kind of vocal filter, mebbe a Danelectro vocoder but most likely a cheesy Radio Shack bullhorn, was followed by a stunning "Cold Irons Bound", the night's second dylancover. If there was a taper in the audience (I know there's a video), s/he should get a copy to Bob. It was also during this song I took serious note of the "backup chicks" on harmony vocals. Unfortunately, I didn't get their numbers, but their names were Angelina Powers and Beth Davenport; their contribution was in line with the overall professionalism.
Another humourous outing, "12 to 20", and then the savage satire on the muzik biz "The Look" (dissecting "Look" vs. "Sound") closed the evening. Second criticism: I coulda useda nother number, but such is the nature of showcases.
BTW, "12 to 20" (about a lover who, unfortunately, is serving that time), kicks off "The Big 16", which was available at 5$US a pop... definitely a cheap date, one which, unlike Bass Ale, is not *isse* away. It includes Mike's "Crazy Like a Fox" (which WILL be available on "rmd_does_dylan") and a truly delightful "Mother's Advice".
The packed house responded with rolling thunderous applause. Hope Mike & Krew got at least gas money & a piece of the door.
Mike Skliar & the Liars were followed by an act called Straight No Chaser. They are, if I can say without sounding masculinist nor pejorative, a "girl group". Four women and a coupla supporting maletypes. They did a number of covers ranging from, I think, Pat Benatar, 'Retha, Otis (a fine "Hard 2 Handle") and "Give Me One Reason to Stay Here" or whatever it's called, which is I thnik Tracy.
Good stuff, and they also defined, in their vocal interplay, "tight". As did their stage outfits (Hey, I may be old & married, but not that old & not blind).
Unfortunately, living Upstate a Ways as I do, I had to take off. After briefly speaking w/Mr. Skliar, I departed to SNC's "River Deep, Mountain High".
All in all, a pleasant time was had by all, even the guy who said "My father used to come here". Prolly a *oddamne* NYU student.
The artists affiliated with The Studio are to be commended. You'd do worse than to pick up on 'em, and you could do way worse to checkout The Liars next time they play. They're a cheap date.
You'd also do far worse than to pick up Mike's "The Big 16", and you might then meet Mike's charming & lovely missus, who sells the CDs out of the trunk of their '47 Ford Coupe.
Unlike me, you should have the social grace to introduce yourself, which I neglected to.
Hiya, Helen. I'm dudley. Pleased to meet you.
And thanks, Mike. Good Show. You made it easy writing a favourable report, and not making a Liar out of me. Be seeing you.