The ’90s were often a strange time for New York Hardcore and what was, for the most part, post-core. While bands like Quicksand, Into Another, Burn, and Orange 9mm each thrived to some extent. There were many more that seemed to flicker, yet quickly burn out before making much of a name for themselves. I got to see many of these acts at places like CBGB’s, The Wetlands, Brownies, and The Continental, to name a few. Lady Luck (pictured below) was one of those bands. Featuring a cleaned up looking Roger Miret (Agnostic Front) on bass and his wife Denise on vocals. They recorded a ‘7-inch ep for Mendit in ’97. A split LP in ‘ with another promising band named Fully the same year and a full length ‘Life in Between’ in 2000. I only saw them this one time at what was pretty much a hippie club in the Tribeca area of Manhattan. I remember Denise having a beautiful voice and, if memory serves, they delivered an excellent set, but as someone who was used to seeing Miret work the stage covered in sweat, tattoos, and screaming into the mic with a sense of primal rage. Seeing a subdued version with slicked-back hair and a velour shirt was just a little too surreal for me.
Though popular within the punk community at the time, bands such as The Casualties and (pictured here) L.E.S. Stitches never really appealed to me. As a pretty clean-cut hardcore kid, the punk revival of the 90’s never captured my interest. Considering how often I ventured out to see the Radicts, Turbo A.C’s, Suicide King, Snake Charmers, and Electric Frankenstein, it’s safe to say I liked the music a lot more than the clothes and imagery. With that said, I admit to having a positive reaction when it came to the one, and only time I caught them live. There was a lot of energy from both the band and the people in attendance. Not bad by a long shot.
Though some of my negatives haven’t stood the test of time, my memories have remarkably held up pretty well. At the time this image of New York City’s The Candy Snatchers was taken at 3rd avenues The Continental. I had just begun dating my future wife and working nights at a record store a few doors down. At the time, the Continental was hosting a lot of great bands that seemed to fit into the cities punk rock revival. During a relatively short time, I got to see bands with names like The Deviators, The Turbo AC’s, The Suicide King (Featuring Nick Marden of the legendary Stimulators, The Snake Charmers and (pictured here) the Candy Snatchers. The Continental was tiny with the bar on the left and the stage in the back. Like most of Manhattan, the Continental and the adjacent St. Marks Street bare little or no resemblance to the once edgy character it was once known. The last time I visited the area, The Continental was a yuppie bar, and St. Marks was lined with trendy restaurants and frozen yogurt chains. What I liked most about this particular band was that element of danger tthey always seemed to carry. That kind of Stooges vibe. Being in my twenties at the time. I liked the element of anything can happen at any time. A stark contrast to today, where so many people at shows are more engaged with their phones and social media, than the actual event.
When my wife and me first moved to Seattle, I recall an exchange where my wife lamented, “I think we’re going to run out of things to do pretty quickly, here.” Though I thought of things quite differently at the time, I accepted her lament while seeing it as a challenge to find new adventures while exploring the limitless places and things I had never experienced having lived my entire life in one corner of the east cost.
Little did either of us know just what kind of adventure exploring new towns, cities and locations would be. Within time, we found new restaurants and coffee shops where we’d spend enddless amounts of time filling our stomachs and fueling our passions.We found an apartment we loved and visited Portland and Vancouver, BC for the first time. On the days or weekends we decide to saty somewhat local, we are never far from one new adventure or another. Yesterday was a good example of such when following an excellent breakfast at Redwing Cafe and some random clothing shopping. We found ourselves in the somewhat familiar territory of Rat City. (Don’t judge the town by it’s cover.) After some really good ice cream and a few healthy rounds of Gallaga at Full Tilt Ice Cream, we went next door to Pho An’s tasty Vietnamese joint to pick up what would be our dinner. In the end, it doesn’t matter how far you travel. Adventure is what you make it. What matters most is who you do it with and what you make of your time together.
Over the weekend, my wife and I drove south for our first ever trip to Olympia. Aside from all the rain I became increasingly excited when I began seeing signs bearing the name “Sleater Kinney Road.” Being that a fairly recent vinyl reissue of the bands work has not only reintroduced, but enamored me to the band’s recorded history. I couldn’t help but imagine seeing Corin, Carrie and Janet seeking shelter under the nearest bus stop canopy. “What came first, the chicken or the egg?” I thought. After securing a parking spot. We headed over to the Capitol Theatre to get a glimpse at the historic building before crossing over to Burial Grounds for a hot cup of coffee. From there we dodged the rain drops and found an awesome book store to explore Browser Books before heading a few blocks over for some excellent pizza and 80’s eye candy at a place appropriately called Old School Pizzeria. As we drove home in the rain. We agreed on what a good idea our little road trip was. Adding that we both looked forward to returning on a warmer, perhaps dryer day. I noted how it seemed we were only there for a quick hour or so. That’s when she reminded me of the two hours we spent digging in Rainy Day Records. With all the time I spend going to record stores. I can honestly say, Rainy Days stock, prices and staff are all pretty awesome. I can’t wait to return with a thorough list and a few more hours to dig at Rainy Day Records
Below are the two records I picked up. “Why two?” you ask. Well, shopping for records when your wife is standing just a few feet away. Isn’t the same as shopping for records when your wife is a few zip codes away.
As Dim Sum was the order of the day we hopped the PATH train headed to the WTC and headed up to our Mott St. destination. Taking our normal route through City Hall Park to the Court Houses and onto our final destination Mott St. The park, though small always offers something for the eyes and the sense. On this particularly overcast day. It was color. Hungry beyond belief. I could only spare seconds before I would start to gnaw on my own flesh. “Snap, Boom, Pop” and I was off. No time for pleasantries with the tour bus tourists. I plowed my way through to my prized Dim Sum.
As I often see myself wanting to leave my city to the tourists and all the other artless savages. I’m drawn in to it’s art, culture and ever evolving and continuously rewarding cuisine. Like that memorable quote from The Godfather III, “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.” Well done New York City. Well done Buddha Bodai. Well done indeed. I remain tangled in your web of deliciousness.