When we first moved to Seattle in 1983, we had opened for Translator who had the hit "Everywhere that I'm Not."
We had also opened for Nico. We'd try and hustle a gig with anybody that was even
remotely related to the
genre of music we were creating, because by that time we had two hours of
original material -- some mellower some stranger -- so we could tailor a
shorter set that would work for most situations. We didn't care we worked a
lot. Every week somewhere. For better or worse we played with anybody that
did original, we were not cliquish on our bills.
It was a room called Baby-O's down in Pioneer Square, operated by a Greek family. But
the promoter putting on Nico was a guy who had briefly had a stint as a band manager for TKO when our lead guitar player Greg
had been playing in a brief-lived touring incarnation of that band. So that's the
connection that got us the Nico gig.
In the afternoon the English band shows up in a station wagon pulling a
trailer. They seem tired and anxious for the tour to end. The promoter has
two shows planned. He's going to turn the house. We'll open each set.
Nico calls him from San Francisco at 5:00 p.m. She had stayed in SF to score
heroin now she's at the airport but she needs him to buy her a ticket. The
show's at 8:00.
He tells us to start and "keep playing" as he races to the airport and gets
a speeding ticket on the way. We start playing but she's not there yet.
We finally stopped playing when he walked in with her. Amazingly the
audience had tolerated us for 75 minutes and we were originally slated to
play about 35 mintues. But by this time we've played too long and the promoter has given up on two
shows. She takes forever to go on, putting on makeup and getting stoned.
Then she starts. Great to hear her even though she's in rough physical
shape. They don't have a soundman, so I even took over running sound after
our soundman got bitched at by her. But there was no way around it, she had
a friggin' acoustic harmonium -- a small pump organ -- right in front of her monitor and she wanted
it cranked and there was no way to do it without feedback.
And she bitched relentlessy about it over the mic. Wanting it louder. Then
bitching more when there was feedback.
So yeah, I remember that show.
The Ditto was in Belltown. It was small, like playing in someone's living room. But a welcome addition, another room on the scene. A lot of bands played there.
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