Music at Melrose Place

One time I said I didn’t like Noo Yawk, and this is what I got back: “It’s awhl raght for us ta badmouth awr city, but strangers ain’t allowed, so take a flyin’ leap off the friggin’ Brooklyn Bridge, ya bastard. What, you maybe wants a little sympathy cuz yer not in yer sunny, laid-back, lotus-eatin’ land? FUHGEDDABOUTIT!” He couldn’t explain what a lotus was, or why anyone would eat it, so I didn’t take it too seriously, but it does give me a good laugh every time I remember it.

Caught the bus in stride, which is great. . . except for the fact I’m not leaving early enough, which means soon I won’t be catching one. . . thank you, red light. A little hungry but not too much at Union Station, certainly not enough to grab something at the Subway above the subway, or cross over to Olvera Street for a bean and cheese burrito. Instead I grabbed a Wetzel’s pretzel bites bag for the first time in ages; lasted a very long time, a couple of hours and several bus routes. . .

Saw Jewel’s playing at the Saban on Wilshire, instantly thought of Paulina Logan and let her know. I’m such a good friend. . . Anyway, I got off at La Cienega, waiting for the bus to head north, on a route I hadn’t been on for quite a while. Had forgotten how huge the Blue Whale looks from the street–you know, that big shopping place–but got off at Melrose before I could get into any trouble. The address told me the location I was seeking was literally on Melrose Place, not street or avenue or boulevard, so I cut through a parking lot to see if it was that alley. . . it wasn’t, which is good because I can’t remember ever seeing so many potholes in one road, not even in third world countries. Floating around to a smaller street I found the Place in question, the walked half a block to the place in question–if you don’t get that, check the capital letter.

Today’s concert was in a tiny space called Alfred’s, with some tables outside, some inside, and then a downstairs where the food and drink were dispensed, as well as the setup for the music. Being too hot for the coffee/tea/hot chocolate in the place, I found a bottle of Sprite–yep, a bottle–which the caffeinista called a Mexican Sprite; a check of the label shows it is indeed from south of the border, as well as featuring real sugar rather than the usual “corny” stuff. Okay, enough of that.

The diva for the day was Shannon Hurley, whom I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen in over a year, last time being at the Coffee Gallery.

1 Sunrise—-This is the first time an artist has ever asked for requests to start a show. . . although I think it was all a cunning plot on her part, knowing I would pick this song, the tune I played while shooting the dawn at Machu Picchu. Too bad I didn’t get a peek at her set list. .

How to advertise. . .

How to advertise. . .

.

2 Matter of Time—-An oldie but goodie.

Throwback, or really that old? I mean, vintage. . .

Throwback, or really that old? I mean, vintage. . .

3 Mexico—–That’s more as expected; she said later she was using the place to try out new stuff. I kept glancing at the bottle, though the song wasn’t about the Sprite. . .

That is the longest keyboard evah! Talk about pianist envy. . .

That is the longest keyboard evah! Talk about pianist envy. . .

4 Stay—–Heard it before, but not often enough to have it in my head.

!IMG_2607

5 Angelyne——The famous billboard bottle blonde–who someone mentioned married a guy who owned billboards, thereby ensuring said fame–gets immortalized in a more permanent way. . . especially since that story about the husband cannot be confirmed.

Plenty of light, but worst lighting ever. . .

Plenty of light, but worst lighting ever. . .

6 Silence—-Didn’t know it from the title, but once she played it. . .

Didn't know fingers bent like that! Ew. . .

Didn’t know fingers bent like that! Ew. . .

7 Overboard——My second fave, though she didn’t mention that this time.

Headbanger, right next to keyboard.

Headbanger, right next to keyboard.

8 You Make It Better—–New one. . .

!IMG_2646

9 Blue Skies—–Everyone’s talking about making up a new song with mad lyrics, the funky new alternative to madlibs. I contributed “You are the sunflower of my heart” and left it at that.

Working on closeups. . .

Working on closeups. . .

10 Nightingale——About an old friend who sings in the dark, but all I could think of was having Zoë–from UCLA Volleyball, last name Nightingale–hear it. . .

Wallpaper

Wallpaper

11 I’ll Turn It On——Shannon mentioned playing at the Getty and writing a song for an exhibit on the Zuccaro brothers. . . at least I think that’s what she said, based on research. {Yes, I’m bored}

Didn't get enough shots, so here's an oldie

Didn’t get enough shots, so here’s an oldie

12 The Light—–Another new one, and you know how I feel about that. At the nearby table a gent in his fifties–I’m guessing–has been sitting with his computer since before Shannon got there, making comments as people are prone to do, generally liking her stuff. But now he’s about to leave, so he packs up his computer and picks up his. . . skateboard! Ha!

Sorry guys, she's taken!

Sorry guys, she’s taken!

13 How Long?—–New one.

One more fashion and hair look. . .

One more fashion and hair look. . .

14 Garden Path—–VERY old one!

She had to go move her car to avoid a ticket, and I was tapped out for the day–so to speak–so I waited for her at the door for a while. . . but after two or three whiles I gave up and headed for the bus stop, where I found I could wait on the same corner for either the 105 on La Cienega back down to Wilshire or the 10 down Melrose; did not take the 105 north to Sunset, cuz the Strip is notoriously glacial during rush hour. As might be expected, both buses came at exactly the same time, so I hopped on the 10 for fun, having not been along that route in years, but nothing interesting presented itself. Did recognize the two Argentinean grills as well as the Groundlings, but couldn’t remember the name of the music venue that usta be there. Spotted a place called Franco’s on Melrose, which doesn’t sound like my kinda place but has to be checked out if only for the name; knew I shoulda trademarked it. Can’t remember the last time I passed by the gates of Paramount Instead of getting off at Vermont and walking to the subway, I stayed on all the way downtown, over an hour. . . good thing I didn’t have to piss. . .

;o)

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